OF MY LADY’S MISSION TO EXETER
THE first streaks of dawn were lightening the chamber when I awoke
to a consciousness of my surroundings. I sprang from my couch with
faculties alert, for I am, as a rule, but a light sleeper. It is a
legacy that, with others, has been bequeathed to me by many a campaign
in foreign lands, when often a man’s life might hang upon the sharpness
of his wits and his power of decision at a moment’s notice under any
circumstances.
I crossed the room to the window and looked out through its tiny
latticed panes.
Mist, mist everywhere, and so thick that I could barely distinguish the
courtyard of the inn below.
Ere donning my coat and boots I made shift to cleanse them in so far as
possible from the mud stains of the previous day and to make such poor
means of a toilet as the room afforded. It was in doing this that I
accidentally caught sight of myself in a little square of cracked glass
that hung upon the wall beside the window.
Across my brow ran a purple weal, terminating in a great bruise of
black and yellow, where my lady’s whip had fallen, and at sight of the
discoloured flesh my rage against her broke out anew.
I buckled on my sword with a grim smile. She had yet to learn whether
she could beat me like a hound with impunity. Downstairs in the
hall I found the landlord already up, who greeted me with a cheery
“good-morning.”
I questioned him closely as to the road, and found, as I expected, that
the one running down the valley was the direct road to Exeter, which
lay to the north, some thirty miles distant.
On my inquiring further for Cornet Graham, he led me once more to the
kitchen. Upon one side of the open fireplace I found the cornet asleep
in an old-fashioned, leather-covered chair. On a table near, a pack of
greasy cards and a couple of empty wine flasks betokened the means that
he and the marquis had taken to while away some portion of the night,
and testified to the good fellowship existing between them. It was not
without difficulty that I awoke the cornet sufficiently to understand
my orders. For the fatigues of the previous day, combined with the
effects of the potations he had freely imbibed, still lay heavily upon
his brain.
He sat up at last, his eyes dull and heavy with sleep. I explained
briefly to him my intentions, and bade him follow with as little loss
of time as possible, and I then drew a chair to the table and sat down
to a light meal that the landlord speedily laid out for me.
My hunger satisfied, I rose from my seat and bade him show me where my
horse was stalled.
He hesitated for a moment.
“But my bill!” he said slowly.
“As to that,” I answered, “we ride upon the king’s service, so you
would do well to present it to my Lord Danvers, at Exeter. You do
not think that I shall pay it, man!” I cried sharply, as he still
hesitated. And I smiled to myself at the thought of the few broad
pieces remaining in my pocket.
“For that matter,” I continued significantly, “be content that you
possess a whole skin to-day. It is more than others of your trade have
lived to boast of. And now, my horse!”
He muttered something under his breath, and turning on his heel, led
the way down the passage. As we passed the main room of the inn I
glanced through the open door.
The tables were overturned and I saw the bodies of three, at least, of
the troopers still lying upon the floor, amid a litter of broken glass,
in a drunken slumber. The room and passage reeked vilely with tobacco,
so that it was a relief to step out into the courtyard and breathe the
cool morning air.
The landlord crossed the yard, and at his call a sleepy hostler came
yawning from one of the stables. It was but the work of a minute to
slip the saddle upon the back of my horse, and then I mounted, and with
a final wave of the hand rode out of the inn.
Once the village was behind me, I broke into a canter, and the cool
morning breeze, redolent of the sea, sang past my ears. The birds were
waking in the hedgerows, filling the summer morning with their harmony;
a little stream by the wayside rippled merrily amongst the pebbles, and
every leaf and flower, sparkling with the night’s rain, reared their
heads joyously to greet the first rays of the sun as they struggled
through the mist, which had so far dispelled that I could plainly
distinguish objects fifty feet distant.
There was a peacefulness brooding upon the country, a restful repose
in the quiet air, to which, fresh from the narrow streets and reeking
kennels of London, I had long been a stranger. I became absorbed in the
contemplation of the unwonted sights around me, until a sudden throb of
pain across my brow recalled me to myself and I fell to taking council
of the anger in my heart.
I had ridden thus for some half mile, the roadway slightly ascending,
before I came on my right to the gates leading to Cleeve Manor. They
were wide open and were supported on either side by massive pillars,
surmounted by a pair of couchant lions carved in stone, and beneath
these the arms of the Ingram family.
Within the gates a broad avenue, flanked on either side by majestic
oaks and beeches, stretched away into the mist.
I drew rein at the entrance, and there I was fain to wait, for I
did not consider it likely that my lady had yet set out, and I had
determined that I would not again approach the house in my present
state, to become a mark for the prying eyes of every serving wench.
It may have been the half of an hour that I waited thus, when the sound
of hoofs ringing on the gravel surface of the avenue broke on my ear,
and a minute later the horses and their riders came into sight. There
were four in all of the latter.
In front, mounted upon the chestnut mare I had last seen in the
stable, rode my lady. She was dressed in the same grey-velvet costume
she had worn the night previous and her face was partially concealed
by a riding mask of black silk. At her side rode the steward, a loose
scarf around his neck. But my eyes were fixed upon the third member of
the party, and there remained. He was, I think, the biggest man that
I have ever seen. Mounted though he was, the massiveness of his head
and build and the breadth of his shoulders all bespoke a man far above
the ordinary proportions. Seen through the veil of mist, horse and man
appeared gigantic. As for the other member of the party riding by his
side, he was little more than a youth, and might have been a groom or
under stable hand.
I reined my horse to one side of the gateway, at the same time pressing
my hat upon my brow, for I was not desirous that my lady should see her
handiwork. Yet even then, so great is the force of habit, that when she
had arrived opposite me my hand went instinctively to the brim, but
recollecting myself in time, I bowed low in my saddle instead.
But she did not look at me.
With head erect, she passed me by, her servants at her heels, and set
off down the road at a brisk canter.
I fell into place about a dozen yards behind, and I now had leisure to
scan them more closely.
I saw that the three men were fully armed, not only with a brace of
pistols in their holsters, but also that each one carried a serviceable
looking rapier at his side.
I noticed, too, that my lady sat her steed with the grace and ease of
a born horsewoman. From time to time she conversed shortly with the
steward at her side, but she never turned her head, and I suppose that
she had given her orders to the men behind her, for the whole party
rode without taking any notice as to whether I followed or not. We had
ridden thus for a distance of some five miles, when my lady turned
sharply to the left along a narrow track running between the torrs. For
a moment I drew rein at the entrance, and I confess I hesitated. The
way was but wide enough to admit of riding in single file, and I would
have wished to have had Cornet Graham and the troopers at my heels. But
in a moment I pulled myself together. After all, what had I to fear, or
what benefit would it be to M. de Launay should they see fit to attack
me? Tush! that I, the best sword in the low countries, should be afraid
of three assailants, even though one proved to be a giant.
I loosened my sword in its sheath, saw that my pistols were to my
hand, and spurred after the party in front. They should not find me
unprepared if it came to blows.
On either side of the track rose the bare hillside, shutting out the
view of what lay beyond. A more desolate path, extending as it did
for more than a mile, could hardly be imagined. But my lady held on
her way without faltering, and presently the track came out upon the
road again, and I saw that we had but taken a short cut, and so saved
ourselves several miles.
Of the rest of our journey to Exeter one incident only stands out in my
memory. It was at noon, and the mist had long since vanished from the
face of the country, giving place to a sky of cloudless blue and the
shimmering heat of the midday sun. We had reached a little village, the
name of which I have long since forgotten, and halted at the quaint,
old-fashioned inn, above the doorway of which ran an inscription
informing the world that it was built by one Robert Havell in the year
1542, “Who mayde a journie to London.” Doubtless no mean undertaking in
those days.
And here my lady dismounted and entered the one parlour the inn could
boast of. But as for me, I was content to seat myself upon a bench
against the wall without, where I could keep an eye upon her servants,
for I thought it not unlikely that they might tamper with my horse,
to which a youth was now attending. If they had any such intention in
their minds, however, my resolute attitude and the sight of the pistols
I had placed ostentatiously at my side must have deterred them from
making the attempt, for they seated themselves at some little distance
and fell to upon the food which the landlord presently placed before
us, occasionally varying this performance by staring at me, the steward
with menacing hate, and the big man with a lowering gaze that showed me
how willingly they would have attempted to have rid themselves of me
but for my lady’s presence.
It was to the latter of the two men that the landlord paid most
attention, waiting upon him with a deference that his station seemed
scarcely to warrant. Accordingly, when I had finished, I rose from my
seat, and beckoning the landlord on one side, demanded who the man was.
He looked at me in undisguised astonishment.
“What?” he cried. “You do not know him? I thought that every one knew
Sampson Dare!”
I knew the man then. It was a name to conjure with throughout all
Devon. For this was the champion wrestler of the West, whose fame had
reached even as far as London itself, where he had twice appeared to
show his skill before the late king, and accounted generally to be the
strongest man in England. I knew, also, that should ever I come to
close quarters with such a man my strength would be of as little more
value to me than that of a child.
Presently my lady came forth again, and the horses were led round to
the door, and here it was that the incident I have mentioned occurred.
In mounting my steed I had the misfortune to loosen my hat, which fell
off and rolled at the others’ feet.
“My hat, fellow,” I cried sharply to the youth whom I had taken to be a
groom, and who was nearest to it.
He looked at me for a moment, but he did not offer to stoop.
“I am not your man,” he answered insolently. “Pick it up for yourself.
You will need it to shield your face,” he added with a grin.
I flung a curse at him, but there was no other help for it but to do
as he said, for the landlord had gone indoors. I was compelled to
dismount, therefore, and it needed but the light contemptuous laugh
that came from my lady’s lips to inflame afresh my anger against her,
which grew steadily with every hour that we rode beneath the burning
summer sun.
We crossed the Teign above Newton Abbott, and continued our way by
means of the old Roman Road up the beautiful valley of the Exe. The
sun was low down in the west and the shadows were lengthening on the
grass when the massive towers of the cathedral at Exeter came into
sight, and beneath them the smoke cloud that hung above the city in the
still evening air. We crossed the bridge over the river and entered the
gates, and at the commencement of the High Street I left the others to
ride forward, and turning my horse into a side thoroughfare, made my
way along the less crowded streets to a large house standing in a quiet
square not far distant from the cathedral, for I knew that it was here,
if anywhere, that I should find my Lord Danvers. The house itself was
inhabited by one Mistress Maddon, who had at one time been upon the
stage, but who, having married from thence a wealthy merchant of the
city of London, had in the course of a few years reduced him to the
verge of ruin by her extravagance. Upon this she had fled incontinently
with Sir Richard Danvers, and had come to Exeter two years previously,
where she flaunted it before the town, to the no small scandal of the
city dignitaries and their ladies. Nay, the scandal was notorious
throughout the West.
I dismounted before the house, and flinging my reins to a beggar
loitering near, ascended the steps.
The door was opened by a gorgeously dressed lackey in a livery of
scarlet.
“Sir Richard Danvers is here?” I said sharply.
He stared superciliously at my travel-stained appearance.
“My lord is indeed present,” he replied loftily, “but his hours for
transacting business are over for the day.” And he made as though to
shut the door in my face.
But I was too quick for him. With a thrust of my foot I sent it open
again and stepped quickly past him into the hall.
“Not so fast,” I said coolly. “My business is too urgent to admit of
further delay, and you can so tell your master.”
He looked at me for a moment with an air of outraged dignity.
“Impossible that you can be admitted,” he said stiffly. “His lordship
is dining.”
“Nevertheless, I must see him,” I answered grimly. “And I am on the
king’s service, my friend. It occurs to me, therefore, that you will
do well to announce me without further waste of time if you would save
yourself present trouble.”
I suppose that there was a look in my eyes that showed him I was not a
man to be trifled with, for without more ado he noiselessly crossed the
hall and ushered me into a richly furnished room, where he left me to
my own devices.
I have said that the apartment was richly furnished, but a second
scrutiny convinced me of the error of my first impression. The light of
the setting sun flaming through the windows fell upon the heavy gilt
furniture and mirrors, the Oriental carpets and hangings, serving but
to increase their appearance of general gaudiness. There was that,
indeed, about the whole which bespoke a certain amount of wealth, but
of wealth coupled with ill taste. I contrasted the room with that
other one at Cleeve which I had so lately left, and it was to the
latter’s distinct advantage. For the rest, opposite me was a door, half
concealed by a thick curtain, and near the hearth stood a small table
littered with papers, and upon which lay a man’s hat and riding gloves.
It may have been ten minutes that I waited thus impatiently, keeping an
eye upon the street without, ere the door behind me opened and a woman
entered the room.
It needed but a glance to assure me that this was the Mistress Maddon,
and she was well in keeping, both in dress and appearance, with her
surroundings.
Doubtless she had at one time been handsome in a bold, masculine way,
but she was now past her prime, and the resources of art could not
conceal the ravages of time. Nay, if anything, they tended rather to
increase them. On a sudden a vision of my lady rose before my eyes, and
I gazed on the smirking, beruddled face of the woman before me with a
sense of deepening disgust.
She was the first to break the silence.
“You wish to see Sir Richard Danvers?” she said, advancing.
“Such is my desire, madam,” I answered, bowing.
“And one which I fear cannot be gratified,” she replied, “for ’tis his
Lordship’s invariable custom to sleep after dining.”
In spite of her smooth words, I was not satisfied, for my eyes,
travelling past her, happened to rest upon the curtain which covered
the other doorway, and I saw it move.
Decidedly, the door behind it had been opened. Accordingly I raised my
voice.
“Then I pray you to awake him, madam,” I answered, “for the business I
have to discharge is urgent.”
“What is your business?” she said sharply.
“Madam,” I answered coolly, “I regret that it is for his ears alone.”
She bit her lip with vexation.
“Or, to be plain, sir,” she replied, “you will not tell me?” and she
tapped her foot impatiently upon the floor.
“If you so put it, madam,” I said bluntly.
She looked at me with a gathering frown. “You need not fear to trust
me, sir,” she answered quickly. “My lord has no secrets that I do not
share.”
“But I am not his lordship,” I retorted with a faint sneer. “Therefore
I pray you to hold me excused, especially as it is connected with
affairs of state.”
“Oh, ’tis upon a matter of state you come?” she cried in a surprised
tone.
“If a document signed by the Privy Council itself can be rightly so
termed, madam,” I answered dryly.
“Then you are not Colonel Overton?” she said hastily.
I looked at her in unfeigned astonishment. I suppose she saw the answer
written on my face.
“Ah, I see that you are not,” she added.
“I am certainly not Colonel Overton,” I replied, at a loss for her
meaning.
“Nor come on his behalf?” she persisted.
“So little, madam,” I answered, “that I do not even know the name of
the gentleman you mention.”
To my surprise she gave a short laugh.
“Had you given us your name and the nature of your business at first,
sir, you might have saved yourself this delay,” she said abruptly. Then
raising her voice:
“You can come in, my lord,” she cried. “It is not Colonel Overton.”
At this the curtain was drawn aside, and a man whom I recognised from
description to be Sir Richard Danvers himself entered the room. I
looked at him with some curiosity. There was little remaining of the
grace of manner and personal beauty that in his younger days had made
him a companion of the gay and witty Charles II. of that name, as his
total unscrupulousness had equally endeared him to the late king. In
age he was at this time nearing fifty, and his clean-shaven face bore
the traces of a career of dissipation. His cravat was loosened, and I
noticed the stain of wine upon his velvet coat.
He came forward with a somewhat shamefaced air.
“Curse me!” he cried, “I am glad of it. It would seem that there is
some mistake. I owe you a thousand apologies, sir, for keeping you
waiting. ’Tis the fault of the blockhead who admitted you. I took you
for a gentleman to whom I lost somewhat heavily at cards last evening.
You will understand it is not always convenient to pay. But I do not
think that I have your name?”
“I am Captain Cassilis, of the Tangier Horse,” I answered.
He looked at me, frowning; then, with a sudden interest in his heavy
eyes:
“Cassilis? Cassilis, the swordsman?” he cried.
I bowed low in acknowledgment. It seemed that my reputation had
preceded me.
“If you will remember, my lord,” I continued, “I was charged yesterday
with the arrest of the Marquis de Launay, at Cleeve.”
“I did indeed sign a document to that effect,” he replied, “but I was
unaware that you were the officer to whom the task was entrusted.”
He drew a chair to the table, scattering the papers from the latter
with a sweep of his hand.
“Proceed, sir,” he continued brusquely. “You succeeded in arresting
this gentleman?”
“He should be in Exeter to-night, my lord,” I answered; “and----”
“One moment, captain,” he interrupted. “Pardon me my forgetfulness.
You have had a long ride and a dusty one. Let us have wine, Nell, for
talking is cursedly thirsty work, and of business, thirstier!”
“Not for me, my lord,” I said hastily; “my errand----”
“Can wait,” he answered. “Tush, man! You will talk all the readier. I
have wine here that would unloose any tongue.” And he threw himself
back in his chair.
I cursed him inwardly for the delay, for at this moment I distinctly
caught the faint clatter of horses’ hoofs in the street below. I was
obliged to wait, however, until the woman had brought a bottle and
glasses from a carved oaken cabinet and placed them upon the table
before him. My lord filled the glasses with a slightly trembling hand.
“Ha!” he said, “this is wine of the best, captain. None of your light
French wines, this! I bought it of Rochester himself. And damn me! I
should know a good wine when I see one. None better.”
I looked at the face of the man before me, and in my own mind I fully
coincided with his opinion.
“I drink to the success of your mission, sir,” he continued.
“With all my heart,” I answered.
He drained his glass at a draught, but as for me, I was content to be
more moderate, for the wine was of the strongest.
“And now to your tale, captain,” he said, refilling his glass.
I waited no longer, but plunged briefly into a recital of the events of
the previous day, omitting only that portion that related to the bruise
upon my forehead. Once Mistress Maddon interrupted me.
“And this Lady Ingram,” she said contemptuously, “you have seen her? Is
she as beautiful as they say?”
“She is very beautiful, madam,” I answered quietly.
Despite my hatred of her, I could be no less than candid. Once, too,
when I came to the account of how she had served the royal warrant,
my lord swore a great oath and half rose from his seat; but he sank
back again and did not interrupt me. In the momentary silence that
followed the conclusion of my story I caught the sound of voices in the
hall without; nay, I even thought that I could distinguish my lady’s
imperious tones.
Suddenly my lord leaned forward.
“But there was resistance?” he said, scanning my face.
I felt my brow burn.
“Nothing of any consequence, my lord,” I answered carelessly.
“Ha!” he cried; “I have been too lenient hitherto. And here--here,” he
continued, taking a paper from the table before him, “is an order from
the Council urging more stringent measures. Should James succeed in
Ireland, Louis will land an army on the coast--’tis more than likely
here, in Devon. Tourville, with the French fleet, is in the channel.
Parliament is distracted. Spies everywhere. Burn me!” he cried with
sudden rage, “they shall not complain of my remissness, and I will
begin here. I would that I had to deal with this woman!”
“In that case, my lord,” I said, “your wish may be speedily gratified,
for Lady Ingram is herself in Exeter for the express purpose of waiting
upon your lordship.”
“Say you so?” he replied with an ugly frown. “Then I will see her. And
curse me! she shall have cause to remember it.”
“But not here,” Mistress Maddon cried suddenly. “Let her carry her
complaints elsewhere--to London, if she pleases! She shall not come
here!”
“Shall not?” my lord cried angrily. “She shall come here, or elsewhere,
as I choose, madam! Remember, I am master of this house--and what you
are!” he added brutally.
“You do well to remind me of that,” she answered bitterly; “but she
does not enter whilst I am here.”
“What, jealous?” my lord cried sneeringly. “Sink me! ’tis a good jest
that. The little Maddon jealous!” And he laughed coarsely.
“I have so much reason to be jealous, have I not?” the woman answered
contemptuously. “Nevertheless,” she continued, “this fine madam shall
not enter the house.”
I caught the sound of footsteps in the hall.
“Then I fear in that case, madam, that you are too late,” I said
quickly.
She turned to me in sudden surprise.
“Too late? And why, sir?” she cried.
“Too late, madam,” I answered firmly, “for I think that the answer is
here.”
Even as I spoke the door was thrown wide open and my lady stood upon
the threshold.
It was my lady, still wearing her riding mask. Over her shoulder I
caught a glimpse of the lackey’s scared face.
For a moment she stood in the doorway, and I saw her slightly start as
her eyes encountered mine; evidently she had not expected my presence.
Then she entered the room.
It would be hard to say whether my lord or Mistress Maddon was the more
surprised at her appearance. Nevertheless, it was the woman who first
recovered herself.
“This is an unexpected honour, madam,” she said, advancing. “The
business must surely be urgent that brings your ladyship as far as
Exeter on such a day!”
My lady stepped back, drawing her skirts together with a slight gesture
of repulsion as cruel as it was intentional. I saw that she was fully
acquainted with the scandal attached to this woman’s name.
“The business must indeed be urgent that brings me here,” she answered
scornfully.
“Where you come a self-invited guest,” Mistress Maddon replied quickly.
“But of course your ladyship has been to Court, and doubtless you have
been taught manners which less favoured persons cannot hope to imitate.”
“Including even a sense of shame,” my lady answered icily.
I saw the woman before her redden beneath her rouge.
“Indeed!” she retorted sneeringly. “But perhaps your ladyship needed to
be instructed in the lesson. It does not come readily to every one of
our sex.”
“To some, never,” my lady replied in the same icy tone, and I saw her
eyes flash behind her mask. “But I have had so little experience of how
to treat such women!”
“Oh,” Mistress Maddon cried, “you have a keen wit, madam, have you not?
’Tis a pleasure to converse with you. Will your ladyship condescend to
be seated?”
“I prefer to stand,” my lady replied haughtily. She turned to the man,
who still sat silent at the table.
“Sir Richard Danvers,” she cried, “I presume you have already heard
from the lips of this gentleman a version of the story that brings me
to Exeter?” and she shot a glance replete with scorn at where I stood.
“I demand to know,” she continued proudly, “by what right do you arrest
a guest residing in my house?”
Her words aroused my lord.
“And I demand, madam, that you remove your mask!” he replied.
My lady drew herself erect.
“Is this necessary, sir?” she said coldly.
“If we are to continue the conversation, madam,” my lord answered, “I
prefer that it should be face to face.”
“Or if you have scruples, madam,” Mistress Maddon, who was standing
near to the window, cried suddenly, “I notice that your ladyship’s
servants grow impatient.”
With a sudden passionate gesture my lady tore the riding mask from her
face and flung it from her.
“Are you satisfied, sir?” she cried with flashing eyes, in the depths
of which I read all the scorn of her surroundings, all the loathing
of the people in whose presence she was. And as I gazed at where she
stood, with the dying sunlight falling on her graceful figure and
turning the masses of her hair to burnished gold, surely, I told
myself, never had I seen so fearless a lady nor so fair a face.
And could there be a greater contrast than that afforded by the two
women before me? The one so proud and pure, so rich in all the noblest
qualities endowing womanhood, the other with the glamour of passion
long since decayed, leaving but the barren busk of sin in its train.
I glanced at my lord. As he gazed upon her beauty, into his eyes there
crept a look such as I had seen upon men’s faces before.
“Of what measure of truth there was in the story told you I do not
seek to learn,” my lady continued proudly. “But I demand the immediate
release of M. de Launay as the least reparation you can offer for the
outrage committed by this man, whose very presence in my house was an
insult, and was resented by me as such.”
Unconsciously I raised my hand to my forehead, but my lady’s quick eyes
noted the movement, for she turned upon me suddenly and added: “And I
think, sir, that you will not easily conceal the mark of my resentment.”
I stood before her and I was dumb. That she should mock me--and before
strangers. How I hated her in that moment! I was about to stammer
something in reply when my lord sprang to his feet and struck the table
before him with his clenched hand.
“Demand? Reparation?” he cried, with sudden passion. “By G----, madam,
you go too far! But I shall know how to deal with you--as I have the
authority.” And he snatched the paper he had previously shown me from
the table.
“Have a care, my lord,” Mistress Maddon cried maliciously. “Remember
the fate of the other document. It would seem that her ladyship has a
predeliction for destroying that which does not belong to her.”
“Ha! you are right, Nell,” my lord cried, his brow black with passion.
“You defy the king’s authority, do you, madam?” he continued, “and
beat the king’s officers? Well, ’tis known to us that your part of
the county is disaffected, that your house is a centre for Jacobite
meetings and a harbourage for their agents. Were it not for urgent
affairs here I would visit you myself. As that is impossible, I will
tell you what I will do, madam. I will send such a force to Cleeve as
shall effectually quench all sparks of rebellion there. Aye, and I will
find the right man to set over it to deal with you.”
“And the very man you desire is here--here to your hand!” and Mistress
Maddon pointed full at me with her fan.
As I thought of all the possibilities her words carried, of the
opportunities of repaying to my lady the shame I had suffered at her
hands, my heart beat more rapidly and the breath came quicker from my
lips. Here was revenge, indeed!
“Sink me!” my lord cried, “but you are a clever one, Nell. Captain
Cassilis, you have no cause to love this lady. What say you? Will you
be this man? You shall have full power over their lives--and bodies!”
he added with a leer.
“That I accept, my lord,” I cried quickly. “And I will answer for it,”
I continued between my set teeth and with a glance of triumph at my
lady, “that your lordship shall have no trouble there whilst I am in
command!”
“I am well assured of it,” he replied, with a short laugh.
“And I--I will appeal against this outrage,” my lady cried quickly.
“Appeal to the--queen, an you will, madam,” he answered rudely.
“Though, distracted as she is with fears for her husband’s safety in
Ireland, I scarcely think that she will interfere on behalf of those
who are his active enemies. To the Council! Proclaim yourself a Papist
and see what consideration you will meet with at their hands. No, no, I
give you credit for more sense, madam,” he continued; “and I trust that
you will take this lesson to heart.”
“And _I_ trust,” Mistress Maddon cried ironically, “that your ladyship
has suffered no hurt through entering this house! Perhaps for the
future, my lady, you will learn a little more experience of how to
treat ‘_such women!_’”
And she swept her a mocking curtesy.
My lady was beaten, and she knew it.
In that moment I could almost have found it in my heart to pity her.
Yet she spoke no word.
For a moment, indeed, she stood gazing at the woman before her with a
look of unutterable scorn, then she turned upon her heel.
I sprang to the door and flung it wide. “Permit me to be your lackey,
madam, for this occasion,” I cried sneeringly, “until I can appear as
_your master_--at Cleeve!”