There was news at the Pool-house next day that Culverin Carr's ship had
sailed; Jeremiah Cobbe hearing thereof from his man, Tom Croftly.
"Heaven send them a good voyage, master," said the workman. "I hear the
girt ship went down the river at daybreak, and there's a brave deal of
our work on board."
"Yes," said the founder, thoughtfully; and then he began thinking about
Gil.
"He's gone off, poor boy, and without a word of good-bye. I was rough
enough to him yesterday, and yet he showed me a plan that is a little
fortune in itself. Poor lad, I like him; but tut--tut; there, it can
never be; Mace is no mate for him, and I'm glad that he has gone."
He was busying himself soon after in seeing the big howitzer dragged
back to the shelter of a shed, so as to be free to talk to Sir Mark, who
had intimated or rather ordered him to be ready for a conference at ten
of the clock; and, in spite of his bluff independence, there was that in
his guest's manner that made him rather uneasy, as much on his child's
account as upon his own.
"There's something behind," he said; "something I don't understand; and,
though I could fight him well enough in a fair and open quarrel, when
they get to their diplomacy and policy, and underhanded-behind-your-back
ways, I'm done."
The thoughts of the previous day's shell-firing, however, put Sir Mark
out of his head; and he was thinking whether it would not be wise to
have the howitzer out once more to try the same experiments, when Sir
Mark, who had been waiting since breakfast to gain an interview with
Mace, and quite in vain, now joined him by the edge-stone of the race.
For Mace had had hard work to maintain her composure at the morning
meal; having heard, as she had from Janet only just before, that Gil's
ship had sailed.
She was not satisfied with their parting, for she felt in her heart that
he would be troubled at the presence of Sir Mark, whose inopportune
return had, as it were, cast a shadow on Gil's last day.
"But he'll trust me," she said, with a satisfied smile; "and he may.
There, I'll fret no more, for time will make all smooth, no doubt."
As to Sir Mark, she felt that she must be very plain with him, and trust
to his being enough of a gentleman to cease what would degenerate into
persecution if continued in face of her declaration that she could not
listen to his suit.
So Mace brightened up, and told herself that there was no need to be at
all uneasy about their guest, setting him down as a vain coxcomb,
without giving him the credit for being, to gain his own ends,
unscrupulous to a degree.
"Ah, Sir Mark," exclaimed the founder, heartily; "I've seen thy two
fellows, and a hearty breakfast has set them right. They are none the
worse for their last night's dip."
"Bodily, perhaps not, Master Cobbe; but mentally I'll vow that they are
very ill. My followers are soldiers and gentlemen, and cannot suffer so
great an affront without some heed. Those people with their leader will
have to be hunted out of the place."
"Thou'lt want ships to limit them now," said the founder, drily; "for
they are off to sea."
"What! at sea? Why, they were here but now."
"But now?"
"Well, last even," said Sir Mark. "They cannot be gone."
"Tut, man. Culverin Carr and his men work by night, when such as we are
asleep. They were at the mouth of the river, where the sea beats on the
sand-bar, before you woke this morning, I'll be bound."
"You seem to be well acquainted with their movements, Master Cobbe,"
said Sir Mark.
"Not I," was the reply. "When I've sold cargo to Captain Gil I ask no
more except to have a written promise from him to pay me my money, which
generally comes in sulphur and in Chinese salt. I never inquire into
his sailings or comings-in. It is as well not, and they're pretty
secret over them, taking on board, sailing, and the like."
"This is curious work, Master Cobbe, in his Majesty's dominions. Law
and order seem to be held cheaply here. It was time something was
done."
"And yet, sir, we have gone on for years, offending none, and have found
life very bearable," said the founder, warmly. "_We_ owe no man aught,
and we ask no favours from any. But you had business to do with me, Sir
Mark. Shall we go in?"
"No," said Sir Mark, "I'll say what I have to say out here."
The founder softly rubbed his hands and wished that the great howitzer
had not been replaced in the shed, for it might have been fired again,
and its wonderful strength and carrying powers exhibited to the King's
messenger. If he saw its value, and made good representations at court,
that would be a large fortune for his child.
He rubbed his hands again, smiling to himself the while, till he awoke
suddenly to the fact that Sir Mark was watching, when he seemed suddenly
to tighten himself up, and gazed back shrewdly at his companion, who
smiled and said--
"I came back to you, Master Cobbe, armed with great powers by His
Majesty, to whom I have talked long and learnedly upon your works and
knowledge of the arts and mysteries of making guns."
"That is well, Sir Mark," said the founder, smiling. "And what said his
Majesty?"
"He left in my hands the power and discretion to order of you--largely--
sundry munitions of war."
"That is good," said the founder, rubbing his hands, as if the palms
began to itch to feel the money.
"Hi was satisfied with the quality and workmanship."
"I tell thee, Sir Mark, that the equals of my pieces are not to be found
in this country, search where you will. I take such pains to have
naught but the toughest iron, and as to finish--"
"Exactly, Master Cobbe," said the knight, smiling in a half-cynical
manner; "but that is your view of the matter."
"No man ever knew me to lie or to cheat in trading, Sir Mark," said the
founder, hotly. "I will compare my pieces with those of any foundry
in--"
"Yes, yes, exactly, Master Cobbe, exactly. But, hark ye, I have, as I
tell thee, full authority to deal with thee, but everything depends upon
my report."
"Try the report of the pieces themselves," said the founder, chuckling.
"There, speak out, my lad. If it be a case of commission, say what you
require, and I'll tell thee at once whether I'll pay or no."
"Do you wish to insult me, Master Cobbe?" said the knight, haughtily.
"Insult thee? No, my lad, not I. Would it be any insult to offer thee
a hundred or two for thine introduction?"
"Silence, man!" cried Sir Mark, angrily. "I am no dealer seeking a
bribe, but one who would do you a good turn, if possible, at a very
difficult time. You have enemies."
"If successful, didst ever know a man without?"
"And they have somehow given the King to understand that it was really
you who supplied the conspirators with the powder for their deadly
plot."
"But I swear--" began the founder.
"What good will that do, sir? An enemy swears against thee, and humours
the king, who, so great is his hatred of such matters, lends willing ear
to the charge, and would rather believe the treason of thee than not."
"That's a pretty state of affairs!" cried the founder. "Do you mean to
tell me, Sir Mark, that the king would willingly believe an honest man
guilty?"
"His Majesty gives much of his time to two subjects--that of witchcraft
and that of schemes against his person. You know how deadly a plot was
laid against him by his Papist enemies?"
"Ay, I know all that; but--"
"Hear me out, Master Cobbe, then you shall speak to your heart's
content. Here is the case. It has been reported to his Majesty that
you are a great factor of deadly gunpowder; that you sell it largely to
his Majesty's enemies; and that at the present time you are receiving
into your house a Papist spy--one Father Brisdone, who is making
arrangement for a fresh supply of powder for some new plan."
"It's a lie!" roared the founder, striking his doubled fist in his
opened hand. "Now, look here, Master Ambassador, or whatever you call
yourself, how comes his Majesty to know aught about my powder and Father
Brisdone? It strikes me, sir, that yours have been the lips that made
the mischief."
Sir Mark was taken aback by this outburst, but he recovered himself
pretty quickly.
"I will not take offence, neither will I argue with you upon such a
point, Master Cobbe," he said, coldly. "Let me ask you this--Was mine
the speech that gave evil report of thee to the King, which said evil
report first brought me down?"
"True!" exclaimed the founder. "I beg thy pardon, my lad. There is
some busy meddling rascal, then, who tells tales of me and mine. Well,
all I say is, let him look to it. I would not be he for a something if
we two stood together some night by the mill-pool."
"You would not throw him in?" said Sir Mark.
"No; but I might push him in, and leave him to get out how he could.
But there, you can send word to his Majesty that he has been deceived.
Certainly I sell powder to go abroad along with my guns--powder made of
the softest dogwood charcoal we can burn."
"Yes," said Sir Mark; "I could, as you say, send word to his Majesty
that it is not so, but it would require backing up with stronger
asseveration."
"To be sure," said the founder; "and that you will make. You tell his
Majesty that I am the last man in the kingdom to do him harm."
"Why should I tell him this, Master Cobbe?"
"Why? Why tell him?" said the blunt founder. "Why? Because it is the
truth."
Sir Mark smiled, and stood apparently thinking for a while before he
spoke again.
"Master Cobbe, I have the power to place in thy hands," he said at last,
"the supplying of as many pieces of ordnance, and as much good, strong
powder, as thou could'st make, for the use of his Majesty's forces, in
an expedition to be sent to Holland. What say you; will you supply the
guns?"
"Price, my lad, price? Will his Highness pay me well?"
"I will undertake to say that he will, Master Cobbe; and, what is more,
I can see that it is done. Make your own fair, honest charge for the
pieces and their food, and there will be no demur."
"Look here, Sir Mark," replied the founder, looking the speaker full in
the face; "you turned angry when I talked of giving you a recompense for
this order, and called it bribery. What does it all mean? Thou
would'st not do all this for naught."
"Is there no such thing as gratitude in the world, Master Cobbe?"
"Plenty, sir; but court gallants don't come spreading it out like beaten
gold over a rough country work-master, unless they want to get something
back."
"You are witty at the expense of court gallants, as you call them,
Master Cobbe," said Sir Mark, laughing. "Tut, man, be not so dense. Is
it a surprise to you that I should have spent my time in London working
hard on thy behalf? Here was an order for ordnance going a-begging.
What more natural for me to say than--Here is honest Jeremiah Cobbe, who
can make better pieces than his Majesty will get elsewhere, and it will
force him back into the King's esteem, instead of his lying under the
stigma of being a traitor? What more likely for me to do than to get
him the order?"
"Then, thou hast gotten me the order, eh, Sir Mark?"
"Nay, I have obtained for myself the power to give thee that order,
Master Cobbe."
"And at what price?"
"Tush, man, speak not of price," cried the other, eagerly. "What are
prices to us? Can you not see that our interests are one, and that I am
working for myself as well as thee?"
"Nay," said the founder, bluntly; "I see it not."
"You will not see it, Master Cobbe," said Sir Mark, smiling. "Why, man,
I have but one thought--for thy welfare."
"Indeed," said the founder, bluntly; "and why?"
"Why?" cried Sir Mark. "You ask me why, when you know so well that I
would do aught for the father of the woman I love."
"Ah," said the founder, drily; "now we have got to it at last. So that
mad wish of thine is not dead yet."
"Mad wish! Why, Master Cobbe, for what do you take me?"
"A very good hand at a bargain, Sir Mark. Nay, nay, stop you, and let
me speak, for you have had a goodly say. You come to me then, now,
scorning all kinds of commission for the great order you have to bestow,
but you say to me all the same--Here is the order, give me thy daughter
in return."
"Master Cobbe!"
"Sir Mark Leslie! Now, sir, what manner of man do you take me to be,
that you offer me goodly orders in exchange for my own poor flesh and
blood?"
"No, no, Master Cobbe; you do not speak me fair."
"I think I do, sir," replied the founder. "Go, take thy great order
elsewhere, I'll have none of it. My child weds some day a man of her
own station, who is a suitable mate. I shall not take a bribe to give
her to the first who tries to tempt me."
"Come, come, Master Cobbe, you are too hard. You know I love her."
"Yes; you say so, sir."
"Be not so hard, then. Give me access to her."
"Access to her, man? You speak as if I locked her in her room. My
child is free enough, and she will tell thee readily that she is no mate
for Sir Mark Leslie."
"Nay, nay, Master Cobbe!"
"Nay, nay, Sir Mark. There, sir, you are welcome to what my house
affords while it pleases thee to stay, for I will not quarrel with thee;
but let us have no more converse about such matters as these."
"And the order, Master Cobbe, one that would bring thee thousands?"
"Take it elsewhere, sir; take it elsewhere. You are a very good,
generous kind of devil, no doubt, but thy temptations will not succeed
at so great a price."
"Bah!" ejaculated Sir Mark. "Devil, forsooth! One would think, man, I
asked for thy soul."
"And what else dost ask for?" cried the founder, angrily, "but for the
pure, sweet girl who is to me my very life and soul. There, I'll speak
no more on it. I get angered, and I've had repentance enough for
quarrelling with you once before, good guest. There, sir, as I said
before, the house is open to you and to your men. Take its hospitality;
as to that order, make of it what you can."
Evidently growing hot and angry, the founder turned away to go and cool
himself--so it seemed--in his hottest furnace, while Sir Mark stood
watching him till he disappeared, with a smile upon his lips.
"The old fellow is tougher than I thought," he said. "I expected the
prospect of the money would have won his consent. Well, it makes me
feel a kind of respect for him after all, rough as he is. But stop a
bit, Master Cobbe, you'll execute the King's order and make money by it.
You'll give me sweet Mace's hand, and sooner or later I'll have thy
savings to the last penny to clear off my little debts, and enable my
beautiful rustic wife to keep up such style as shall make the sneering
dames at court think twice before they slight one who has beauty, power,
and position."
As he spoke, he glanced at an open window, where Mace, trembling and
excited, had been an unseen spectator of the meeting, standing far back
in the room, and giving a sigh of relief as she saw her father stride
angrily away.
Volume 2, Chapter XI.