Every white will have its black,
And every sweet its sour.
OLD BALLAD.
The birth-day festival at the Rose Croft might be said appropriately to
belong to the eminent dominion of the Lady Maria. It therefore lacked
nothing of her zealous supervision. With the aid of father Pierre and
some female auxiliaries she had persuaded the Collector--a task of no
great difficulty--to sanction the proceeding, and she was now intent
upon the due ordering and setting out of the preparations. The day was
still a week off when, early after breakfast, on a pleasant morning the
business-fraught lady was seen in the hall, arrayed in riding hood and
mantle, ready to mount a quiet black-and-white pony that, in the charge
of a groom, awaited her pleasure at the door. Natta, the little Indian
girl, stood by entrusted with the care of a work-bag or wallet
apparently well stuffed with the materials for future occupation,--the
parcel-fragments which thrifty housewives and idleness-hating dames,
down to this day, are accustomed to carry with them, for the sake of
the appearance, at least, of industry. Just at this moment the
Proprietary came into the hall, and seeing that his worthy sister was
bound on some enterprise of more than usual earnestness, he added to
his customary morning salutation a playful inquiry into the purport of
her excursion.
"Ah, Charles," she replied, "there are doings in the province which are
above the rule of your burgesses and councils. I hold a convocation at
the Rose Croft to-day, touching matters more earnest than your state
affairs. We have a merry-making in the wind, and I am looked to both
for countenance and advice. It is my prerogative, brother, to be
mistress of all revels."
"God bless thine age, Maria!" was the affectionate reply of the
Proprietary--"it wears a pleasant verdure and betokens a life of
innocent thoughts and kind actions. May the saints bear thee gently
onward to thy rest! Come, I will serve as your cavalier, and help you
to your horse, sister.--See now, my arm has pith in it. Hither,
Natta--there is the wench on the pillion--who could serve thee with a
better grace than that?"
"Thanks--thanks, good brother!" ejaculated the lady as the Proprietary
lifted her to her seat, and then swung the Indian girl upon the pillion
behind her. "Your arm is a valiant arm, and is blessed by more than one
in this province. It has ever been stretched forth in acts of charity
and protection."
"Nay, Maria, you are too old to flatter. Fie! I have no advancement to
offer thee. In truth thou art sovereign here--though you go through
your realm with but scant attendance for one so magnified. Why is not
Albert in your train? I may well spare him--as he has a liking for such
service."
"Brother, I would not tax the Secretary. He hath a free foot for his
own pleasure; and, methinks, he finds his way to the Rose Croft easily
enough without my teaching. It is an ancient caution of mine, in such
affairs, neither to mar nor make."
"Heaven help thee for a considerate spinster!" said the Proprietary
with a benignant smile as he raised his hands and shook them sportively
towards his sister. "Go thy ways, with thy whimsies and thy
scruples;--and a blessing on them! I wish yours were our only
cares:--but go thy ways, girl!" he added, as the lady set forth on her
journey, and he withdrew from the door.
At the Rose Croft, the approaching merry-making had superseded all
other family topics, both in parlour and kitchen. The larder was
already beginning to exhibit the plentiful accumulations which, in a
place of strength, might portend a siege: the stable boys were ever on
the alert, with their cavalry, to do rapid errands to the town, and
Michael Mossbank, the gardener, was seen in frequent and earnest
consultation with John Pouch, a river-side cotter, touching supplies of
fish and wild fowl.
Whilst the elder sister Alice despatched the graver duties of the
housekeeping, she had consigned to Blanche the not less important care
of summoning the guests, and the maiden was now seated at the table
with pen in hand registering the names of those who had been, or were
to be invited to the feast,--or in other words making a census of
pretty nearly the whole tithable population of St. Mary's and its
dependencies.
"A plague upon it for a weary labour!" she exclaimed as she threw down
the pen and rested her chin upon the palm of her hand. "I know I shall
forget somebody I ought not to forget--and shall be well rated for it.
And then again I shall be chid for being too free with my
fellowship.--What a world of names is here! I did not think the whole
province had so many. There is Winnefred Hay, the Viewer's
sister,--they have tales about her which, if they be true, it is not
fit she should be a crony of mine--and yet I don't believe them, though
many do.--Truly the Viewer will be in a grand passion if I slight her!
Sister Alice, give me your advice."
"Bid her to the feast, Blanche. We should be slow to believe these
rumours to the injury of a neighbour. Winnefred Hay, is not over
discreet--and gives more semblance to an evil opinion than, in truth,
her faults deserve: but the townspeople are scarce better in this
quickness to censure--especially such as look to the tobacco viewing.
Lawrence Hay's place has something to do with that scandal."
"I am glad, sister Alice, you give me an argument to indulge my own
secret wish," replied Blanche; "for I like not to believe harsh reports
against any of our province. And so, that is at an end. Alack!--here is
another matter for counsel: Grace Blackiston says Helen Clements is too
young to be at my gathering:--she has two years before her yet at
school, and has only begun embroidering. Oh, but I would as soon do a
barefoot penance for a month as disappoint her!--she is the wildest of
all for a dance, and looks for it, I know,--though she says never a
word, and has her eyes on the ground when we talk about it.--Ha, let
Grace Blackiston prate as she will, Helen shall be here! Fairly, my
gossip,--I will be mistress in my own house, I promise you!"
"There is room for all thy friends, young and old," said Alice; "and
you should not stint to ask them for the difference of a span or so in
height. You are not quite a woman yourself, Blanche,--no, nor Grace
neither--although you perk yourselves up so daintily."
"Would you have the gauger's wife, sister?" inquired Blanche, with a
face of renewed perplexity. "I think my dear Lady Maria would be
pleased if I bid the dame--for the gauger is a good friend of his
Lordship--hot-headed, they say, but that does not make him the
worse--and his dame takes it kindly to be noticed."
"Even as you will, Blanche,--it is a mark of gentle nurture not to be
too scrupulous with thy questions of quality--a kind neighbour will
never disgrace your courtesy. But one thing, child, your father will
look to:--see that you avoid these Coodes and Fendalls and even the
Chiseldines. There is a feud between them and the Proprietary,--and my
Lord's friends are warm in the matter,--your father amongst the rest."
"I warrant you they get no bid from me," said Blanche, as the colour
mantled in her cheek. "I hate them stock and branch--yes, as my good
lady hates them."
Blanche had scarcely uttered these words before the good lady herself
rode past the window. The maiden bounded forth to receive her, and
Alice with less precipitation followed.
"I come with pony and pillion," said the visiter as she was assisted to
the ground, and bustled into the parlour. "I could not rest until I saw
Blanche, to know if all her biddings were abroad. My pretty bird, pray
look you to your task--you have no time to lose: there are the families
beyond Patuxent--and our friends across the bay,--besides many at home
that I know have not heard from you yet. And here, sweet, I have
brought you some trinketry which you shall wear at the feast: a part is
for Grace Blackiston, and a part for you. Thou shalt have the choice,
Blanche:--but whisht!--not a word of it to Grace, because I think she
hath a conceit to be jealous of thy favour."
Whilst the two sisters welcomed the lady and responded to her voluble
communications in a tone of affectionate intimacy, the contents of the
work-bag were thrown open to view, and successively gave rise to sundry
discussions relating not only to the objects presented, but also
collaterally to the thousand matters of detail connected with the
festival, thus engrossing the first hour of their interview, until the
subject was changed by an exclamation from Blanche, as she looked
through the window upon the river--
"Oh, but here is a gallant sight!--see yonder hawk following a heron.
He will strike presently--the heron cannot get away. Poor bird! how he
doubles and drops in his flight to escape the swift hawk;--but it is of
no avail. I should almost say it was sinful,--if it was not approved
and followed by those I love best--I should hold it sinful to frighten
and torture a harmless heron by such pursuit. There, the hawk has
struck, and down comes hawk and quarry to the water."
"It is his Lordship's hawk," said the Lady Maria, as she looked out
upon the river. "Derrick the falconer must be abroad to-day with his
birds:--and now whilst I speak, there he is walking along the beach.
And he is not alone neither:--by that short mantle and that feather,
Blanche, you may know a friend."
The colour rose on the maiden's cheek as she said, "it is Albert, his
Lordship's secretary."
"His eyes are turned this way," said the sister of the Proprietary. "A
wager he comes to the house in the next ten minutes!--He would fain
find some business with the Collector--I know Master Albert's
occasions: nay, do not flurry thyself, my sweet Blanche."
"I wish the Secretary _would_ come," returned the maiden; "we have
need of him; he promised to show me how I were best to arrange my
flower vases."
"Then thou shouldst do well to despatch a messenger to him,"
interrupted the Lady Maria, playfully; "dost thou not think he might
forget?"
"Oh no, my dear lady," replied Blanche, "Master Albert never forgets a
promise to me."
"Indeed! Well, I should have thought that having occasion to make you
so many promises--for he is here at the Rose Croft thrice a week at
least--and every visit has its promise, or I mistake--he would forget
full one half."
"I deal but scantily in promises with the Secretary," replied Blanche.
"Master Albert's errands here are for pastime mostly."
"Ah, he doth not forget," exclaimed the Lady Maria; "for there I see
the feather of his bonnet as he climbs up the bank,--and now we have
his head and shoulders; we shall get the whole man anon,--and Master
Benedict Leonard in the bargain, for I see _him_ trudging in the
Secretary's footsteps, as he is wont to do; his young Lordship hath
become the Secretary's shadow. And there is Derrick behind. They are
all bound for this haven."
As the lady spoke, the Secretary was seen from the window with the heir
apparent and the falconer on the verge of the bank which they had just
ascended. Benedict Leonard had a hooded hawk upon his fist; and
Derrick, waving a light rod to which a small streamer or flag was
attached, was busy in luring down the bird that had just flown at the
heron. Whilst the falconer continued his occupation the Secretary and
his young companion entered the mansion.
Albert Verheyden's accost to the ladies was characterized by a
familiarity not unmixed with diffidence, and a momentary flush passed,
across his cheek as, after saluting Mistress Alice, and turning to
Blanche, his eye fell upon the sister of the Proprietary. "I did not
expect to find my honoured lady so early at the Rose Croft," he said
with a profound reverence. "It should have been my duty, madam, to
attend you, but I knew not of your purpose; and the falconer being bent
to fly the cast of lanerets which Colonel Talbot lately sent to my
Lord, would have me witness the trial, and so I came with Master
Benedict to see this sport."
"Nay, Albert," replied the lady, "you should not have been of my
company even if you had sought permission. I come to-day on no idle
errand which might allow your loitering paces and customary delays to
gaze on headlands and meadows, whereby you are wont to interrupt the
course of your journey. The matter of our present meeting has need of
stirring feet, which go direct to their work,--yours are not such.
Still, Master Albert, you shall not be useless to-day:--here is
occupation to thy hand; Blanche is in much want of a penman, and as you
are of the writing craft, she would gladly enlist thee in her
service--that is, if thou hast not been already marshaled and sworn
under her colours."
"Master Albert, our dear lady does but jest," said Blanche. "She knows
I had at first no need of better penman than myself, and now have need
of none,--for, in truth, my work was finished ere she came. But your
service I may command in a better task. You did promise to bring me
some device for my flower-stands."
"The joiner will have them here to-day," replied the Secretary. "I have
not failed to spur his industry as well as my own poor invention to
that endeavour."
"Then all is done but the rendering of thanks," said Blanche, "which
yet I am not in the humour to do, having matter of quarrel with you for
that following of the poor heron which, but now, we saw the hawk strike
down, whilst you were a looker-on, and, as we suspect, an encourager of
the trespass. It was a cruel thing to assail the innocent fowl, which,
being native here, has ever found friends in our house;--yes, and has
daily fed upon the flat below the garden. These herons scarce fly when
I walk by them on the beach. I wish the falconer had sought his quarry
elsewhere than amongst my harmless birds. You should have controlled
him."
"I am deeply grieved," replied the Secretary. "Indeed, I knew not of
the bird nor whence he came: nor thought of it, in truth. A feather of
his wing should not have come to harm had I been aware that he had ever
pleased your eye. I am all unskilled in these out-door sports, and have
scarce worn out the complexion of my school at Antwerp, where worldly
pastimes were a forbidden thought. A poor scholar of the cloister might
go free of blame if, in this sunny and gallant world, the transport of
a noble game should rob him of his circumspection. I thought of naught
but the glorious circling of the hawk and his swift and imperious
assault. I crave your pardon for my inconsiderate error."
"You speak more like a practised cavalier than a scholar of the
cloister," said the sister of the Proprietary; "thou hast a cavalier's
love of the sport, Albert."
"It doth not beseem me, madam," was the Secretary's reply, "to affect a
pastime which belongs neither to my rank nor humble means; but, in
sadness, dear lady, I do love hawk, and hound, and steed. And when in
my sequestered study--where, being, as I thought, destined to the
service of the altar, I read mostly of holy men and holy things, little
dreaming that I should ever see the world--it sometimes chanced, in my
stray reading, I fell upon a lay wherein deeds of chivalry were told;
and then I was conscious of a wish, I am now almost ashamed to confess,
that fortune might some day bring me better acquainted with that world
to which such deeds belonged. Oh, blessed chance! it hath befallen
now:----that is,--I mean to say," continued the Secretary, checking
himself, as his flashing eye fell to the floor, and a blush flitted
across his brow--"it hath pleased Heaven to give me a kind master in my
good Lord, who doth not deny me to look on when these sports are
afield."
"And if we did strike down the heron, Blanche Warden," said Benedict
Leonard, saucily accosting the maiden, and showing the hawk that was
bound to his wrist--"what is a heron good for, but to be brought down?
Herons were made for hawks--yes, and for the hawks of the Proprietary
above all others; for I have heard say that every heron on the
Chesapeake, within my father's boundary, is his own bird: so Derrick
has said a hundred times. And there's my uncle Talbot, who flies a hawk
better than any other in the province--I don't care if Derrick hears
me--and has the best mews,--he says that these fire-arms have broken up
hawking in the old country; and he told me I must not let it fall
through when I come to the province; for my father, he thinks, doesn't
care much for it. I promise you in my time we shall have hawking
enough--chide as you like, Mistress Blanche. It was partly for me that
my uncle Talbot sent us this cast of birds. Look at that laneret,
Blanche,--look at her! Isn't that a bird? Talk to me of a goshawk after
that!"
"Benedict--nephew," interposed the Lady Maria, "why dost thou fling thy
bird so rudely? She brushes Blanche's cheek with her wing. Pray, not so
bold: Blanche will not like thee for it."
"Blanche will never quarrel with me for loving my hawk, aunt," replied
the boy playfully. "Will you, mistress? A laneret's wing and Blanche
Warden's cheek are both accounted beautiful in this province, and will
not grow angry with each other upon acquaintance."
"I know not that, Benedict," replied the maiden; "my cheek may grow
jealous of your praise of the wing, and mischief might follow. She is
but a savage bird, and hath a vicious appetite."
"I will away to the falconer," said the boy. "It is but wasting good
things to talk with women about hawks. You will find me, Master Albert,
along the bank with Derrick, if you have need of me."
"That boy hath more of the Talbot in him than the Calvert," said the
Lady Maria, after he had left the room. "His father was ever grave from
youth upwards, and cared but little for these exercises. Benedict
Leonard lives in the open air, and has a light heart.--Thou hast a book
under thy mantle, Master Albert," continued the lady. "Is your breviary
needful when you go forth to practise a laneret?"
"It is a volume I have brought for Mistress Blanche," replied the
Secretary, as, with some evident confusion, he produced a gilded quarto
with clasps, from beneath his dress. "It is a delightful history of a
brave cavalier, that I thought would please her."
"Ah!" exclaimed the sister of the Proprietary, taking the book and
reading the title-page--"'_La tres joyeuse et plaisante Histoire,
composec par le Loyal Serviteur, des faits, gestes et prouesses du bon
Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche._' Ay, and a right pleasant
history it is, this of the good Knight Bayard, without fear and without
reproach. But, Albert, thou knowest Blanche doth not read French."
"I designed to render it myself to Mistress Blanche, in her native
tongue," replied the Secretary.
"Blanche," said the lady, shaking her head, "this comes of not taking
my counsel to learn this language of chivalry long ago. See what peril
you will suffer now in journeying through this huge book alone with
Master Albert."
"I see no peril," replied the maiden, unconscious of the raillery.
"Master Albert will teach me, ere he be done, to read French for
myself."
"When thou hast such a master, and the Secretary such a pupil," said
the lady, smiling, "Heaven speed us! I will eat all the French thou
learnest in a month. But, Master Albert, if Blanche cannot understand
your legend, in the tongue in which it is writ, she can fully
comprehend your music--and so can we. It is parcel of your duty at the
Rose Croft to do minstrel's service. You have so many songs--and I saw
thee stealing a glance at yon lute, as if thou wouldst greet an old
acquaintance."
"If it were not for Master Albert," said Alice, "Blanche's lute would
be unstrung. She scarce keeps it, one would think, but for the
Secretary's occupation."
"Ah, sister Alice, and my dear lady," said Blanche, "the Secretary hath
such a touch of the lute, that I but shame my own ears to play upon it,
after hearing his ditties. Sing, Master Albert, I pray you," she added,
as she presented him the instrument.
"I will sing to the best of my skill," replied Albert, "which has been
magnified beyond my deservings. With your leave, I will try a canzonet
I learned in London. It was much liked by the gallants there, and I
confess a favour for it because it hath a stirring relish. It runs thus:
'Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind
To war and arms I fly.
'True, a new mistress, now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.
'Yet this inconstancy is such
As you too shall adore:
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Lov'd I not honour more.'"
"Well done! Well touched lute--well trolled ditty! Brave song for a
bird of thy feather, Master Verheyden!" exclaimed the Collector, who,
when the song was finished, entered the room with Cocklescraft. "That's
as good a song, Master Cocklescraft----the Skipper, ladies--my friend
of the Olive Branch, who has been with me this hour past docketing his
cargo: I may call him especially your friend--he is no enemy to the
vanities of this world. Ha, Master Cocklescraft, thou hast wherewith to
win a world of grace with the petticoats!--thou hast an eye for the
trickery of the sex! Sit down, sir--I pray you, without further
reverence, sit down."
The Skipper, during this introduction, stood near the door, bowing to
the company, and then advanced into the room with a careless and
somewhat over-bold step, such as denotes a man who, in the endeavour to
appear at his ease in society, carries his acting to the point of
familiarity. Still his freedom was not without grace, and his
demeanour, very soon after the slight perturbation of his first accost,
became natural and appropriate to his character.
"Save you, madam," he said, addressing the sister of the Proprietary,
and bowing low, "and you, Mistress Alice, and you, my young lady of the
Rose Croft. It is a twelvemonth since I left the Port, and I am right
glad to meet the worshipful ladies of the province once again, and to
see that good friends thrive. The salt water whets a sailor's eye for
friendly faces. Mistress Blanche, I would take upon me to say, without
being thought too free, that you have grown some trifle taller than
before I sailed. I did not then think you could be bettered in figure."
The maiden bowed without answering the Skipper's compliment.
"Richard Cocklescraft," said the Collector, "I know not if you ever saw
Albert Verheyden. Had he come hither before you sailed? His Lordship's
secretary."
"I was not so lucky as to fall into his company," replied Cocklescraft,
turning towards the Secretary, and eyeing him from head to foot. "I
think I heard that his Lordship brought new comers with him. We shall
not lack acquaintance. Your hand, Master Verdun--I think so you said?"
he added, as he looked inquiringly at the Collector.
The Collector again pronounced the name of the Secretary with more
precision.
"Nearly the same thing," continued the Skipper. "Master Verheyden, your
hand: mine is something rougher, but it shall be the hand of a comrade,
if thine be in the service of worshipful Master Anthony Warden, the
good Collector of St. Mary's. I know how to value a friend, Master
Secretary, and a friend's friend. You have a rare voice for a ballad--I
pretend to have an opinion in such matters--an excellent voice and a
free finger for the lute."
"I am flattered by your liking sir," returned Albert Verheyden coldly,
as he retired towards a window, somewhat repelled by the too freely
proffered acquaintance of the Skipper, and the rather loud voice and
obtrusive manner with which he addressed those around him.
"Oh, this craft of singing is the touchstone of gentility now-a-days,"
said Cocklescraft, twirling his velvet bonnet by the gold tassel
appended to the crown. "A man is accounted unfurnished who has no skill
in that joyous art. Sea-bred as I am, Collector--worshipful Master
Warden--you would scarce believe me, but I have touched lute and guitar
myself, and passably well. I learned this trick in Milan, whither I
have twice gone in my voyages, and dwelt there with these Italians,
some good summer months. That is your climate for dark eyes and bright
nights--balconies, and damsels behind the lattice, listening to
thrummers and singers upon the pavements below. And upon occasion, we
wear the short cloak and dagger. I have worn cloak and stiletto in my
travels, Master Collector, and trolled a catch in the true tongue of
Tuscany, when tuck and rapier rung in the burden. The hot blood there
is a commodity which the breeze from the Alps hath no virtue to cool,
as it doth in Switzerland."
"We will try your singing craft ere it be long," replied the Collector.
"We will put you to catch and glee, with a jig to the heel of it,
Richard Cocklescraft. You must know, Blanche is eighteen on the
festival of St. Therese, and we have a junketing forward which has set
the whole province astir. You shall take part in the sport with the
town's-people, Master Skipper; and I warrant you find no rest of limb
until you show us some new antics of the fashion which you have picked
up abroad. You shall dance and sing with witnesses--or a good leg and a
topping voice shall have no virtue! I pray you do not forget to make
one of our company on the festival of St. Therese. Your gewgaws,
Richard, and woman's gear, could not be more in season: every wench in
the port is like to be your debtor."
"Thanks, Master Collector, I have a foot and voice, ay, and hand, ever
at the service of your good company. I will be first to come and last
to depart.--I have been mindful of the Rose of St. Mary's in my
voyaging," he said in a respectful and lowered tone, as he approached
the maiden. "Mistress Blanche is never so far out of my thoughts that I
might come back to the Port without some token for her. I would crave
your acceptance of a pretty mantle of crimson silk lined with minever.
I found it in Dort, and being taken with its beauty, and thinking how
well it would become the gay figure of my pretty mistress of the Rose
Croft, I brought it away, and now make bold to ask--that is, if it be
agreeable to Mistress Blanche, and if I do not venture too far--that I
may be allowed to bring it hither."
"You may find a worthier hand for such a favour," said Blanche, with a
tone and look that somewhat eagerly repelled the proffered gift, and
manifested dislike of the liberty which the Skipper had taken--a
liberty which was in no degree lessened to her apprehension by the
unaccustomed gentleness of his voice, and the humble and faltering
manner in which he had asked her consent to the present. "I am unused
to such gaudy trappings, and should not be content to wear the cloak;"
then perceiving some reproof, as she fancied, in the countenance of her
sister Alice and the Lady Maria, she added, in a kindlier voice, "I
dare not accept it at your hand, Master Skipper."
"Nay," replied Cocklescraft, presuming upon the mildness of the
maiden's last speech, and pressing the matter with that obtrusiveness
which marked his character and nurture, "I shall not take it kindly if
thou dost not;" and as a flush overspread his cheek, he added, "I
counted to a certainty that you would do me this courtesy."
"Men sometimes count rashly, Master Cocklescraft," interposed the Lady
Maria, "who presume upon a maiden's willingness to incur such debts."
"Save you, madam," replied the Skipper; "I should be sorry Mistress
Blanche should deem it to be incurring a debt."
"I have not been trained," said Blanche, with perfect self-possession
and firmness of manner, which she intended should put an end to the
Skipper's importunity, "to receive such favours from the hand of a
stranger; when I have need of a mantle, the mercer shall be my friend."
"You will, perchance, think better of it when you see the mantle," said
the Skipper, carelessly, and then added with a saucy smile, "women are
changeful, Master Collector; I will bring the gewgaw for Mistress
Blanche's inspection--a chapman may have that privilege."
"You may spare yourself the trouble," said the maiden.
"Nay, mistress, think it not a trouble, I beseech you; I count nothing
a trouble which shall allow me to please thy fancy." As the Skipper
uttered this he came still nearer to the chair on which Blanche was
seated, and, almost in a whisper, said, "I pray you, mistress, think
not so lightly of my wish to serve you. I have set my heart upon your
taking the mantle."
"Master Skipper, a word with you," interrupted the Secretary, who had
watched the whole scene; and aware of the annoyance which
Cocklescraft's rudeness inflicted upon the maiden, had quietly
approached him and now beckoned him to a recess of the window, where
they might converse without being heard by the company. "It is not
civil to importune the lady in this fashion. You must be satisfied with
her answer as she has given it to you. It vexes the daughter of Master
Warden to be thus besought. I pray you, sir, no more of it."
Cocklescraft eyed the Secretary for a moment with a glance of scornful
resentment, and then replied in a voice inaudible to all but the person
to whom it was addressed. "Right! perhaps you are right, sir; but when
I would be tutored for my behaviour, he shall be a man, by my troth,
who takes that duty on him, and shall wear a beard and sword both. I
needed not thy schooling, master crotchet-monger!" Then leaving the
Secretary, he strode towards the maiden, and assuming a laughing face,
which but awkwardly concealed his vexation, he said, "well, Mistress
Blanche, since you are resolved that you will not take my poor bauble
off my hands, I must give it over as a venture lost, and so an end of
it. I were a fool to be vexed because I could not read the riddle of a
maiden's fancy: how should such fish of the sea be learned in so gentle
a study? So, viaggio, it shall break no leg of mine! I will dance none
the less merrily for it at the feast: and as for the mantle, why it may
find other shoulders in the Port, though it shall never find them so
fit to wear it withal, as the pretty shoulders of Mistress Blanche.
Master Warden I must fain take my leave; my people wait me at the quay.
Fair weather for the feast, and a merry time of it, ladies! A Dios,
Master Collector!"
The gaiety of this leaving-taking was dashed with a sternness of manner
which all the Skipper's acting could not conceal, and as he walked
towards the door, he paused a moment to touch Albert Verheyden's cloak
and whispered in his ear, "We shall be better acquainted, sir;" then
leaving the house he rapidly shaped his course towards the town.
He had scarcely got out of sight before Blanche sprang from her chair
and ran towards her father, pouring out upon him a volley of reproof
for his unadvised and especially unauthorized invitation of the Skipper
to the festival. The maiden was joined in this assault by her
auxiliaries, the Proprietary's sister and Mistress Alice, who concurred
in reading the simple-minded and unconsciously offending old gentleman
a lecture upon his improvident interference in this delicate matter.
They insisted that Cocklescraft's associations in the port gave him no
claim to such a favour, and that, at all events, it was Blanche's
prerogative to be consulted in regard to the admission of the younger
and gayer portions of her company.
"Have you not had your will, my dear father," was the summing up of
Blanche's playful attack, "to your full content, in summoning all the
old humdrum folks of the province, even to the Dominie and his wife,
who have never been known to go to a merry-making any where, and who
are both so deaf that they have not heard each other speak this many a
day? and now you must needs be bringing the Skipper hither."
"Lackaday, wench! what have I done to redden thy brow?" interrupted Mr.
Warden, with a face of perplexed good humour, unable longer to bear the
storm of rebuke, or to parry the arguments which were so eagerly thrust
at him; "I warrant now I have made mischief without knowing how! The
Skipper is a free blade, of good metal, and of a figure, too, which,
methinks, might please a damsel in a dance, and spare us all this coil;
his leg has not its fellow in the province. You take me to task
roundly, when all the while I was so foolish as to believe I was doing
you regardful service."
"He hath a wicked look, father," was Blanche's reply; "and a saucy
freedom which I like not. He is ever too bold in his greeting, and
lacks gentle breeding. He must come to me, forsooth, with his mantle,
as an especial token, and set upon me with so much constancy to take
it! Take a mantle from him! I have never even seen him but twice
before, and then it was in church, where he must needs claim to speak
to me as if he were an old acquaintance! I will none of him nor his
mantle, if he were fifty times a properer man than he is!"
"Be it so, my daughter," replied the Collector. "But we must bear this
mishap cheerily. I will not offend again. You women," he said, as he
walked to and fro through the parlour, with his hands behind his back,
and a good natured smile playing over his features, "you women are more
shrewd to read the qualities of men, especially in matters touching
behaviour, than such old pock-puddings as I am. I will be better
counselled before I trespass in this sort again. But remember, Blanche,
the Skipper has his summons, and our hospitality must not suffer
reproach; so we will e'en make the best we can of this blundering
misadventure of mine. For our own honour, we must be courteous,
Blanche, to the Skipper; and, therefore, do thou take heed that he have
no cause to say we slight him. As I get old I shall grow wise."
Blanche threw her arms around her father's neck and imprinting a kiss
upon his brow, said in a tone of affectionate playfulness, "for your
sake, dear father, I will not chide: the Skipper shall not want due
observance from me. I did but speak to give you a caution, by which you
shall learn that the maidens of this province are so foolish as to
stand to it, and I amongst the rest, that they are better able to
choose their gallants than their fathers,--though their fathers be
amongst his Lordship's most trusty advisers."
"Now a thousand benisons upon thy head, my child!" said the Collector,
as he laid his hand upon Blanche's glossy locks, and then left the
apartment.