CHAPTER XI.

RAGLAN CASTLE.

While he yet spoke, their horses, of their own accord, passed

through the gate which Eccles had thrown wide to admit them, and

carried them into the Fountain court. Here, indeed, was a change of

aspect! All that Dorothy had hitherto contemplated was the side of

the fortress which faced the world--frowning and defiant, although

here and there on the point of breaking into a half smile, for the

grim, suspicious, altogether repellent look of the old feudal castle

had been gradually vanishing in the additions and alterations of

more civilised times. But now they were in the heart of the

building, and saw the face which the house of strength turned upon

its own people. The spring sunshine filled half the court; over the

rest lay the shadow of the huge keep, towering massive above the

three-storied line of building which formed the side next it. Here

was the true face of the Janus-building, full of eyes and mouths;

for many bright windows looked down into the court, in some of which

shone the smiling faces of children and ladies peeping out to see

the visitors, whose arrival had been announced by the creaking

chains of the portcullis; and by the doors issued and entered, here

a lady in rich attire, there a gentlemen half in armour, and here

again a serving man or maid. Nearly in the centre of the quadrangle,

just outside the shadow of the keep, stood the giant horse, rearing

in white marble, almost dazzling in the sunshine, from whose

nostrils spouted the jets of water which gave its name to the court.

Opposite the gate by which they entered was the little chapel, with

its triple lancet windows, over which lay the picture-gallery with

its large oriel lights. Far above their roof, ascended from behind

that of the great hall, with its fine lantern window seated on the

ridge. From the other court beyond the hall, that upon which the

main entrance opened, came the sounds of heavy feet in intermittent

but measured tread, the clanking of arms, and a returning voice of

loud command: the troops of the garrison were being exercised on the

slabs of the pitched court.

From each of the many doors opening into the court they had entered,

a path, paved with coloured tiles, led straight through the finest

of turf to the marble fountain in the centre, into whose shadowed

basin the falling water seemed to carry captive as into a prison the

sunlight it caught above. Its music as it fell made a lovely but

strange and sad contrast with the martial sounds from beyond.

It was but a moment they had to note these things; eyes and ears

gathered them all at once. Two of the warder's men already held

their horses, while two other men, responsive to the warder's

whistle, came running from the hall and helped them to dismount.

Hardly had they reached the ground ere a man-servant came, who led

the way to the left towards a porch of carved stone on the same side

of the court. The door stood open, revealing a flight of stairs,

rather steep, but wide and stately, going right up between two

straight walls. At the top stood lady Margaret's gentleman usher,

Mr. Harcourt by name, who received them with much courtesy, and

conducting them to a small room on the left of the landing, went to

announce their arrival to lady Margaret, to whose private parlour

this was the antechamber. Returning in a moment, he led them into

her presence.

She received them with a frankness which almost belied the

stateliness of her demeanour. Through the haze of that reserve which

a consciousness of dignity, whether true or false, so often

generates, the genial courtesy of her Irish nature, for she was an

O'Brien, daughter of the earl of Thomond, shone clear, and justified

her Celtic origin.

'Welcome, cousin!' she said, holding out her hand while yet distant

half the length of the room, across which, upborne on slow firm

foot, she advanced with even, stately motion, 'And you also,

reverend sir,' she went on, turning to Mr. Herbert. 'I am told we

are indebted to you for this welcome addition to our family--how

welcome none can tell but ladies shut up like ourselves.'

Dorothy was already almost at her ease, and the old clergyman soon

found lady Margaret so sensible and as well as courteous--prejudiced

yet further in her favour, it must be confessed, by the pleasant

pretence she made of claiming cousinship on the ground of the

identity of her husband's title with his surname--that, ere he left

the castle, liberal as he had believed himself, he was nevertheless

astonished to find how much of friendship had in that brief space

been engendered in his bosom towards a catholic lady whom he had

never before seen.

Since the time of Elizabeth, when the fear and repugnance of the

nation had been so greatly and justly excited by the apparent

probability of a marriage betwixt their queen and the detested

Philip of Spain, a considerable alteration had been gradually

wrought in the feelings of a large portion of it in respect of their

catholic countrymen--a fact which gave strength to the position of

the puritans in asserting the essential identity of episcopalian

with catholic politics. Almost forty years had elapsed since the

Gunpowder Plot; the queen was a catholic; the episcopalian party was

itself at length endangered by the extension and development of the

very principles on which they had themselves broken away from the

church of Rome; and the catholics were friendly to the government of

the king, under which their condition was one of comfort if not

influence, while under that of the parliament they had every reason

to anticipate a revival of persecution. Not a few of them doubtless

cherished the hope that this revelation of the true spirit of

dissent would result in driving the king and his party back into the

bosom of the church.

The king, on the other hand, while only too glad to receive what aid

he might from the loyal families of the old religion, yet saw that

much caution was necessary lest he should alienate the most earnest

of his protestant friends by giving ground for the suspicion that he

was inclined to purchase their co-operation by a return to the creed

of his Scottish grand-mother, Mary Stuart, and his English

great-great-grand-mother, Margaret Tudor.

On the part of the clergy there had been for some time a

considerable tendency, chiefly from the influence of Laud, to

cultivate the same spirit which actuated the larger portion of the

catholic priesthood; and although this had never led to retrograde

movement in regard to their politics, the fact that both were

accounted by a third party, and that far the most dangerous to

either of the other two, as in spirit and object one and the same,

naturally tended to produce a more indulgent regard of each other

than had hitherto prevailed. And hence, in part, it was that it had

become possible for episcopalian Dr. Bayly to be an inmate of Raglan

Castle, and for good, protestant Matthew Herbert to seek refuge for

his ward with good catholic lady Margaret.

Eager to return to the duties of his parish, through his illness so

long neglected, Mr. Herbert declined her ladyship's invitation to

dinner, which, she assured him, consulting a watch that she wore in

a ring on her little finger, must be all but ready, seeing it was

now a quarter to eleven, and took his leave, accompanied by

Dorothy's servant to bring back the horse--if indeed they should be

fortunate enough to escape the requisition of both horses by one

party or the other. At present, however, the king's affairs

continued rather on the ascendant, and the name of the marquis in

that country was as yet a tower of strength. Dorothy's horse was

included in the hospitality shown his mistress, and taken to the

stables--under the mid-day shadow of the Library Tower.

As soon as the parson was gone, lady Margaret touched a small silver

bell which hung in a stand on the table beside her.

'Conduct mistress Dorothy Vaughan to her room, wait upon her there,

and then attend her hither,' she said to the maid who answered it.

'I would request a little not unneedful haste, cousin,' she went on,

'for my lord of Worcester is very precise in all matters of

household order, and likes ill to see any one enter the dining-room

after he is seated. It is his desire that you should dine at his

table to-day. After this I must place you with the rest of my

ladies, who dine in the housekeeper's room.'

'As you think proper, madam,' returned Dorothy, a little

disappointed, but a little relieved also.

'The bell will ring presently,' said lady Margaret, 'and a quarter

of an hour thereafter we shall all be seated.'

She was herself already dressed--in a pale-blue satin, with full

skirt and close-fitting, long-peaked boddice, fastened in front by

several double clasps set with rubies; her shoulders were bare, and

her sleeves looped up with large round star-like studs, set with

diamonds, so that her arms also were bare to the elbows. Round her

neck was a short string of large pearls.

'You take no long time to attire yourself, cousin,' said her

ladyship, kindly, when Dorothy returned.

'Little time was needed, madam,' answered Dorothy; 'for me there is

but one colour. I fear I shall show but a dull bird amidst the gay

plumage of Raglan. But I could have better adorned myself had not I

heard the bell ere I had begun, and feared to lose your ladyship's

company, and in very deed make my first appearance before my lord as

a transgressor of the laws of his household.'

'You did well, cousin Dorothy; for everything goes by law and order

here. All is reason and rhyme too in this house. My lord's father,

although one of the best and kindest of men, is, as I said, somewhat

precise, and will, as he says himself, be king in his own kingdom--

thinking doubtless of one who is not such. I should not talk thus

with you, cousin, were you like some young ladies I know; but there

is that about you which pleases me greatly, and which I take to

indicate discretion. When first I came to the house, not having been

accustomed to so severe a punctuality, I gave my lord no little

annoyance; for, oftener than once or twice, I walked into his

dining-room not only after grace had been said, but after the first

course had been sent down to the hall-tables. My lord took his

revenge in calling me the wild Irish-woman.'

Here she laughed very sweetly.

'The only one,' she resumed, 'who does here as he will, is my

husband. Even lord Charles, who is governor of the castle, must be

in his place to the moment; but for my husband--.'

The bell rang a second time. Lady Margaret rose, and taking

Dorothy's arm, led her from the room into a long dim-lighted

corridor. Arrived at the end of it, where a second passage met it at

right angles, she stopped at a door facing them.

'I think we shall find my lord of Worcester here,' she said in a

whisper, as she knocked and waited a response. 'He is not here,' she

said. 'He expects me to call on him as I pass. We must make haste.'

The second passage, in which were several curves and sharp turns,

led them to a large room, nearly square, in which were two tables

covered for about thirty. By the door and along the sides of the

room were a good many gentlemen, some of them very plainly dressed,

and others in gayer attire, amongst whom Dorothy, as they passed

through, recognised her cousin Scudamore. Whether he saw and knew

her she could not tell. Crossing a small antechamber they entered

the drawing-room, where stood and sat talking a number of ladies and

gentlemen, to some of whom lady Margaret spoke and presented her

cousin, greeting others with a familiar nod or smile, and yet others

with a stately courtesy. Then she said,

'Ladies, I will lead the way to the dining-room. My lord marquis

would the less willingly have us late that something detains

himself.'

Those who dined in the marquis's room followed her. Scarcely had she

reached the upper end of the table when the marquis entered,

followed by all his gentlemen, some of whom withdrew, their service

over for the time, while others proceeded to wait upon him and his

family, with any of the nobility who happened to be his guests at

the first table.

'I am the laggard to-day, my lady,' he said, cheerily, as he bore

his heavy person up the room towards her. 'Ah!' he went on, as lady

Margaret stepped forward to meet him, leading Dorothy by the hand,

'who is this sober young damsel under my wild Irishwoman's wing? Our

young cousin Vaughan, doubtless, whose praises my worthy Dr. Bayly

has been sounding in my ears?'

He held out his hand to Dorothy, and bade her welcome to Raglan.

The marquis was a man of noble countenance, of the type we are ready

to imagine peculiar to the great men of the time of queen Elizabeth.

To this his unwieldy person did not correspond, although his

movements were still far from being despoiled of that charm which

naturally belonged to all that was his. Nor did his presence owe

anything to his dress, which was of that long-haired coarse woollen

stuff they called frieze, worn, probably, by not another nobleman in

the country, and regarded as fitter for a yeoman. His eyes, though

he was yet but sixty-five or so, were already hazy, and his voice

was husky and a little broken--results of the constantly poor health

and frequent suffering he had had for many years; but he carried it

all 'with'--to quote the prince of courtesy, sir Philip

Sydney--'with a right old man's grace, that will seem livelier than

his age will afford him.'

The moment he entered, the sewer in the antechamber at the other end

of the room had given a signal to one waiting at the head of the

stair leading down to the hall, and his lordship was hardly seated,

ere--although the kitchen was at the corner of the pitched court

diagonally opposite--he bore the first dish into the room, followed

by his assistants, laden each with another.

Lady Margaret made Dorothy sit down by her. A place on her other

side was vacant.

'Where is this truant husband of thine, my lady?' asked the marquis,

as soon as Dr. Bayly had said grace. 'Know you whether he eats at

all, or when, or where? It is now three days since he has filled his

place at thy side, yet is he in the castle. Thou knowest, my lady, I

deal not with him, who is so soon to sit in this chair, as with

another, but I like it not. Know you what occupies him to day?'

'I do not, my lord,' answered lady Margaret. 'I have had but one

glimpse of him since the morning, and if he looks now as he looked

then, I fear your lordship would be minded rather to drive him from

your table than welcome him to a seat beside you.'

As she spoke, lady Margaret caught a glimpse of a peculiar

expression on Scudamore's face, where he stood behind his master's

chair.

'Your page, my lord,' she said, 'seems to know something of him: if

it pleased you to put him to the question--'

'Hey, Scudamore!' said the marquis without turning his head; 'what

have you seen of my lord Herbert?'

'As much as could be seen of him, my lord,' answered Scudamore. 'He

was new from the powder-mill, and his face and hands were as he had

been blown three times up the hall chimney.'

'I would thou didst pay more heed to what is fitting, thou monkey,

and knewest either place or time for thy foolish jests! It will be

long ere thou soil one of thy white fingers for king or country,'

said the marquis, neither angrily nor merrily. 'Get another flask of

claret,' he added, 'and keep thy wit for thy mates, boy.'

Dorothy cast one involuntary glance at her cousin. His face was red

as fire, but, as it seemed to her, more with suppressed amusement

than shame. She had not been much longer in the castle before she

learned that, in the opinion of the household, the marquis did his

best, or worst rather, to ruin young Scudamore by indulgence. The

judgment, however, was partly the product of jealousy, although

doubtless the marquis had in his case a little too much relaxed the

bonds of discipline. The youth was bright and ready, and had as yet

been found trustworthy; his wit was tolerable, and a certain gay

naivete of speech and manner set off to the best advantage what

there was of it; but his laughter was sometimes mischievous, and on

the present occasion Dorothy could not rid herself of the suspicion

that he was laughing in his sleeve at his master, which caused her

to redden in her turn. Scudamore saw it, and had his own fancies

concerning the phenomenon.

St. George and St. Michael, Volume 1 · 第 11 / 16 章