London was merry-making, with bonfires and pealing of bells, when Will
Peake and I entered it. Every day that passed, men took in more of the
great victory which had been gained against the King of Spain, and
rejoiced louder and louder at the deliverance God had vouchsafed the
land.
So, when it became known (as it soon did among our old friends), that
Will and I had fought in that glorious fight, we lacked neither food nor
shelter for our poor bodies. At first Will fared better than I; for he
was monstrous little altered from the swaggering lad who tried a bout
with me years before at Finsbury Fields. But as for me, men looked
once, twice, and thrice at me before they would believe it was Humphrey
Dexter. And when one day in a tavern I came upon a mirror I learned the
cause. My beard, unkempt now for many weeks, had grown till it made my
face look very fierce and manly; and my hair, once close-cropped, now
fell heavily below my ears. And the scar I got on the _Rata_ gave me so
ferocious a look that I had a mind well-nigh to doubt myself, when first
I saw it.
"'Tis little wonder if they know thee not," said Will, "for thou art
passably handsome now, whereas once--"
Here he left me to guess what I had been.
Be that as it may, I was pleased enough with the change for so far, and
spared my fee to the barber. And as for my old comrades, I had other
signs to make myself known to them, as they soon discovered by the
aching of their heads and the soreness of their ribs. For I soon shook
off my sickness and was as ready for knocks as ever.
Yet you may guess if, with it all, I was merry!
The printing-house without Temple Bar was as black and desolate as a
tomb, with a great lock belonging to the Stationers' Company hanging on
the door. When I asked the neighbours concerning my master, they pulled
long faces and told me he was given over to desperate ventures, and with
his family had fled the country; and 'twas well for him, said they, no
one knew where he hid.
I knew not which way to turn. My sweet Jeannette was far away amid
perils I little dreamed of. Ludar was, perhaps, even now a prisoner in
Spain. My occupation was gone, and my pocket and my stomach were both
empty.
Could I have lived on naught, I think I should even have tried to make
my way to Spain (as if it were no bigger a place than Temple Gardens!)
and so find Ludar. Then I changed my mind and thought to set out for
Ireland to seek Jeannette. Then, when I saw a fellow enlisting troopers
for the Dutch wars, I well-nigh sold myself to him.
I might have done so straight out, had not there come a loud thump on my
back as I stood in the crowd, and a voice in my ear that made me start.
"Are you so weary of life, comrade, that you want a leaden pill or two
to cure it?"
"Verily, I am," said I, wheeling round and facing Tom Price, Captain
Merriman's man.
At first he knew me not, nor when I told him my name would he believe he
spake to Humphrey Dexter. But when at last he knew me, he clapped me
again on the back and said--
"Thou'rt well met, my little Lord Mayor. By my soul, I might have
walked a league and never met thee."
"You might have walked farther than that," said I. "What villainy are
you and your master now upon? for I take it you still serve the
Captain?"
He laughed. "As for my master, let him be. He's snug enough. I left
him-- Look you here, comrade," said he, taking my arm and looking hard
at me, "where saw I thee last?"
"Once when you lay as drunk as a dog in Finsbury Fields. And a good
turn you did me, comrade, and more than me, by what you blabbed then."
He gaped rather foolishly at this, and asked did I want my ears slit for
a noisy malapert?
Then I told him just what passed, and how I had been able thereby to
save the maiden from the Captain's clutches. When he heard that he
laughed, and swore and thwacked me on the back till I nearly dropped.
"By my life, you gallows dog you, if my master only knew what he owed
you! Why, my pretty lad, I never saw a man so put about as he was when
he came back from Canterbury that time without his prey."
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"Where else, do you suppose, but smacking his lips near the dove's nest?
He hath comforted himself for all he hath suffered, ere now, I warrant
thee!"
"What!" I shouted. "Has he followed the maiden to Ireland?"
He laughed.
"So, then, you know where the pretty one has flown? I warrant thee, if
thou couldst see her at this moment, thou wouldst see my master not a
bow-shot away. Ha! ha! I do not say nearer; for when I left, the fair
vixen still held him at arm's length. But he is getting on; and now,
since the maid's lover is dead--"
"He is not dead," said I; "I parted from him scarce a month ago!" And I
told him where and how.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"A fig for his life if that be his case," said he. "At any rate he is
believed to be dead; and the Captain, as I say, is getting on, having
made himself monstrous civil to Turlogh Luinech O'Neill, who, I think,
favours him somewhat for a son-in-law."
"The foul dog!" I exclaimed. "Would I had him standing here, for my
friend's sake. Tell me, Tom, what of a little maid who went from London
as waiting gentlewoman to the lady. How fares she?"
"Sadly, I hope, since she and I are parted," said he. "For, to tell you
the truth, Master Dexter, she is the sweetest wench and hath looked
kindly on me. Indeed, 'twas for this reason I think my master sent me
off here on this business to get him more men. For he is apt to amuse
himself, while he waits for the mistress, with the maid; and I doubt
when I return I shall find the little witch hath clean forgotten how to
smile on me."
I hope I may be forgiven the words I uttered when I heard this. I flew
at honest Tom Price like a wolf and cried: "Why, what mean you, hound?
What does he dare to do?"
Tom shook me off roughly, and pulled out his sword.
"Look 'ee here, Master Humphrey, if that be the way you ask your
questions, your ribs shall know the way I answer them."
"I ask your pardon," said I, panting hard. "But for God's mercy say
what all this means?"
"It means," said he, "that you are mightily concerned with this same
little waiting lass."
"She is my sweetheart," said I, "and is to be my wife."
It was his turn to look blank now, and catch his breath. He whistled,
and stared at me from head to foot, and whistled again. Then he found
words, and held out his hand.
"If she be thy sweetheart, she is none of mine. I go halves with no
man."
"And this Merriman?" I asked, scarce heeding what he said.
"This Merriman!" said he; "why, take a shame on yourself that you stand
skulking here, and leave the defence of those two fair maids to a crack-
brained poet and a swashbuckling soldier. I tell you, Humphrey Dexter,
those two fellows, little as I love them, are your friends and your
master's; and, if the maids be still safe, they owe it to them, and not
to your idle whimpering here."
"Heaven bless them!" said I. "But, Tom Price, how can I, who have
scarce shoes to stand in, or food for one day, go to them?"
"This way," said he; "I am here to engage men for my master's troop--
join us."
"What!" I exclaimed; "serve that villain? I had as soon serve the
devil himself."
"May be you can serve both at one time," said he, with a laugh; "but
join us you must."
"He would hang me at the nearest tree, so soon as he saw me."
"He would never know you. I scarce did."
We stood eyeing one another a minute. Then I held out my hand.
"When do you start?"
"In two days, if I can find the men by then. Meanwhile, come with me
and put your big carcase in a soldier's trappings, and drink health to
her Majesty and Captain Merriman."
A week passed before Tom Price got his company together. I chafed and
grumbled at every hour that passed. On the day before we set out, I
went to show myself in my soldier's bravery to Will Peake, on London
Bridge.
"Every man to his taste," said the latter. "I think thee not as fine as
thou thinkest thyself. By the way, thou art like to have knocks enough
where thou goest, I hear, for news is come that the Spaniards mean to
land on Irish shore, and strike at us from that quarter."
This was great news to me; and on every hand I heard it repeated, till,
at nightfall, there was something near a panic in London, and orders
were given for all troops possible to set out forthwith. Therefore, Tom
Price, though his company still wanted a few of its number, bade us be
within call and ready spurred at daybreak.
The road from London to Chester was full of straggling companies of
soldiers, hastened forward like us by the alarm of the Spanish attack on
Ireland. We, being mounted, distanced most of them. And so eager were
the country folk along the march to see our backs, that, had we been
minded to tarry long in any place, we should have soon outworn our
welcome.
I saw little of Tom Price during the early part of our march. But when,
presently, he had leisure to gossip, he told me one piece of news which
moved me not a little.
It was that Sorley Boy, being now an old man and broken down in spirit,
longed for his lost son, Sir Ludar, as eagerly as he had hated him not
long since. He lived a restless life at Dunluce, often and again
stalking abroad as of old, and seeming to expect him who was lost. He
had even made friends with Turlogh; and the only time that Captain
Merriman had hung his head and slunk out of Castleroe, said Tom, was
when the Lord of Dunluce came thither to visit his new ally. So long as
he stayed, the Captain found business elsewhere.
Sorley Boy, when at Castleroe, saw the maiden, who, after what had
passed, scarcely durst meet him. But by degrees her sweet, brave ways
took the old man captive, and, ere he left, he knew her whole story, and
loved her as if she were indeed already his daughter.
He well-nigh broke his truce with the O'Neill, because he would not
permit the maid to visit Dunluce; for Turlogh (dreading, perhaps, the
ill graces of the Captain), would not part with her from Castleroe. So
Sorley Boy departed discontented, like a man robbed.
All this I heard, and more than ever chafed at the slackness of our
laggard steeds. How I wished that, looking round, I might but see Ludar
spurring at my side!
Alas! I saw him not. But one day, as we neared Chester, I did see a
face in a troop that had joined ours on the road, that made me rub my
eyes, and wonder if ghosts truly walked on earth.
If it was not Peter Stoupe, my old fellow 'prentice, it was as like him
as one pea is to another. Nay, once, when, to satisfy myself, I made a
pretext to ride near him, I could have sworn I heard the humming of a
psalm-tune amid the clatter of the hoofs.
Our troops parted company a day after, and I was left marvelling if all
this world and the next were marching towards Ireland.
Early next day I had no leisure left me to cogitate more on that; for
Tom Price reined his horse in beside mine, and said:
"Humphrey, here is a message come from the Captain in hot haste, to
prevent our going north, and ordering us to Dublin."
I let my reins fall with a groan on my steed's neck. Tom heeded it not,
but continued:
"The Spaniard, it is said, has been gathering in the northern seas, and
is coming down on the western Irish coast, where he counts on the
papists of the country to further him. We are ordered to stay in Dublin
for orders from my Lord Deputy. Why, how black you look, comrade!"
"Who would not? You know, Tom Price, why I came on this venture. I
were better in London, unless our journey lead us to Castleroe."
Tom laughed, and I could have knocked him from his horse, had he not
quickly added:
"Gently, my fire-eating jack printer. I came not to tell thee only
this. The Captain addeth these words: 'Send me six trusty men here, for
my affairs require such before I am free to join you. Send them forward
with all speed. Do you cross leisurely to Dublin, and there await me.
I am in hopes it may not be needful for me to return again thither.
Send trusty men, and speedily.' What say you, Humphrey? Art thou a
trusty lad? Could I trust thee to pick out five honest fellows like
thyself and show them the way to a certain pair of black eyes and rosy
lips on the banks of the Bann?"
I loved Tom Price like a brother then, and told him as much. In an
hour's time I had chosen five stout fellows, all of whom I could trust
with my last farthing, and whom I could count on for any service. I had
them armed to the teeth, well mounted and provisioned; and then, without
a moment lost, called them to horse.
"Farewell, comrade," said Tom, as he saw me go. "I could even envy
thee, though it is like to cost thee somewhat. For the Captain hath
twenty men already, and hath eyes and ears in his head. Commend me to
thy lass, and let her know she hath had a narrow escape of a sweetheart
in Tom Price."
"She shall thank you for your honesty, comrade, with her own sweet
lips," said I, and hallooed my men forward.
Next day we were at the sea, and embarked--horses and all--on a barque
that was even then weighing anchor with other troops on board for
Knockfergus.
To my surprise, among the men that crowded the deck was the fellow I had
seen two days ago, who had reminded me of Peter Stoupe. When I saw him
now, I knew for certain it was he.
I stood full in front of him, to see if he would know me again, for I
cared not if he did. He looked at me meekly without a sign of
recognition, and humming ever, passed his eyes to some other place.
"So, so, Peter," thought I, "as you know not your old shopmate, why
should I disturb your humming?"
And I carelessly asked a man who stood next him whither his company was
bound and on what service.--
"Westward," he said, "to look for Spaniards. And you?"
"To join one Captain Merriman in the north."
It tickled me much to see Peter start and change colour at that.
"Ah, 'tis a brave gallant, I'm told," said the man. "'Twas he slew
Sorley Boy's son, was it not?"
"Ay, a brave deed that was," said I. "I saw it."
The fellow laughed.
"You know him, then? Ha! ha! You can satisfy Peter here better than I
can. He desireth to know the Captain's whereabouts; and when I tell him
he is no further off than the nearest pretty face, he turneth up his
eyes as if he expected to see him at his own side. He! he! What say
you, Peter?"
"I say, alack that such men should wear her Majesty's colours," said he,
with a snivel.
"Amen to that," said I, giving him a thwack on the back that made him
jump. "'Tis a pity her Majesty hath not more like you, Peter. How do
you call your name?"
"Stoupe," said he, looking up at me meekly and rubbing his shoulder.
After that we went to look to our horses, and I saw little more of him
that voyage; for from the moment we put out to sea he fell as sick as a
dog, and lay on the floor of the ship praying Heaven to put an end to
his sorrows, till we reached Knockfergus.
There I suddenly missed him, and heard he had had so sorry a time
serving her Majesty thus far, that he had skulked so soon as ever the
ship came to land, and made for the hills, where no doubt he meant to
lie till he could go back the way he had come.
Whereat I laughed, and ordered my men to horse.
At the town gate, much to my vexation, we were met by a guard, who
ordered us to report ourselves to the English governor. I had looked to
get a fair start of the other troops going west. But now, so far from
that, two days passed idle on my hands before I even got audience of the
governor, and by that time many companies had started westward. For the
panic of the Spanish invasion was very great among the English soldiery
at Knockfergus; and every man that could be had was being hurried across
the country.
When I saw the governor and told him my orders, he said, shortly:
"Captain Merriman has already had orders to go forward to Tyrone's land,
and will have left Castleroe before now. You will join him sooner by
sea than by land. Be ready to sail three days hence. Till then, leave
not the town, but abide at the hostel for further orders."
This was a thunderbolt to me. I knew the Captain well enough to be sure
that, if he had indeed left Castleroe, he had either not left it alone
or had left worse than desolation behind him. He was too well-known to
his comrades in these parts to leave much doubt of that; and when that
same night I heard by chance that Turlogh for a month past had been away
in Dublin, leaving the protection of his castle to this English champion
of his, I made sure, what I had feared all along, that I was come too
late.
One thing I was resolved on. Come what would, I would make for
Castleroe and learn the worst for myself. 'Twould be better even to be
hanged for a deserter than live a day longer in this misery and
suspense.
So I bade my men, if they were minded still to serve me, be ready and
stand by for the first chance of escape.
It came soon enough. Bands of soldiers were coming in and going out of
Knockfergus all the night long; and while we sat in the hostelry and
watched them depart with longing eyes, like prisoners through a dungeon
cage, I suddenly found myself calling myself a fool and starting to my
feet.
"Follow me," I cried to my men, and led them to where our horses stood,
still saddled, in the stable.
"Mount," I said, "and stay under the shadow of this wall, till you see
me ride out. Then fall in quietly at my heels."
Presently, as we stood there, came a noise of trumpets and a clatter of
hoofs down the steep street. As they passed, we could see by the
torches of those that marched beside them that this was a great company
of foot and horse, dragging a gun or two with them. 'Twas more of a
rabble than a troop; for the horses, frightened by the glare of the
torches and the shouts of the footmen, reared and plunged, and scattered
the townsfolk who had turned out to see them pass, right and left.
As they passed the corner where we lurked, some of the horses plunged in
among us, and in the darkness all was confusion for a moment.
Then I quietly rode in among them with my five men at my heels, and so,
unseen and unheeded, we joined the troop and passed the gate in safety
into the black country beyond.
Once outside, 'twas easy enough to get clear. I bade my men lag behind
all they could; till at last we must have dropped fifty yards or so,
where, in the darkness, we were quite lost to view. Then I gave the
order to gallop; and overtaking the company, as in hot haste, I rode up
to the officer and saluted.
"A good journey to you, Captain," said I. "'Twill be slower than ours,
for the troop we are to join is already beyond the Bann, and we ride
post-haste to overtake it."
"You are of Merriman's troop then?" said the officer.
"That are we. Good-night to you, Captain. Lay to, my men, and spurs
all!" And so we rode forward.