DICK'S COUSIN
Bridget waited on Dick all day, keeping him in bed, petting him, and
nursing him, and making much of him. In the evening Philip came in
with a parcel in his arms.
"Now, sir," he said, "if you will be pleased to rise, here are your
clothes. All the way to Arncastor have I been to fetch your honour a
wardrobe, by my Lady's orders. And here you be."
Dick sat up and watched with interest as Philip laid out a complete
suit of gray cloth, very fine and elegant, shoes with large rosettes,
silk stockings, and a fine holland shirt with lace ruffles and collar.
"Those are not my clothes, sir," he said.
"By your good leave, sir, my Lady says they are. I was cleaning my
plate, and humming a tune, as it might be, this morning, when in
comes my Lady, and saith she: 'Philip, the young gentleman upstairs
is my kinsman.' 'Yes, my Lady,' I say. 'He hath fallen amongst
unkind people, and lost his clothes, Philip,' saith my Lady. 'Yes,
my Lady,' I say. 'Ride you over to Arncastor, and purvey him all
manner of apparel,' saith my Lady. And 'Yes, my Lady,' say I."
Dick got up and let Philip dress him without a word, and comb and
curl his hair.
"Moreover," the old man continued, as he wound a crimson sash with
fringed ends round Dick's waist; "moreover, my Lady fetches this
forth of her stores, and this fine lace also, and saith she: 'Dress
the young gentleman carefully, Philip, remembering he is my kinsman.'
And 'Yes, my Lady,' say I."
Between laughing and crying at all this comfort and kindness, Dick
was led downstairs to the oak-panelled room where Lady Dorothy Byng
was sitting. She rose as he entered, and dropped him a curtsy.
"Welcome, little Cousin," she said.
Dick stood stock-still and stared at her. There was a fire on the
hearth, for the spring evenings were cold, and she stood in the light
of it, wonderfully dressed in a pale-blue brocade, with hare-bells in
her hair.
"Come and speak to me, Dick."
She held out her hand. Dick sprang across the floor, and flung
himself on his knees to kiss her hand and thank her.
"Little courtier," she said. "Where did you learn such manners?"
"Ah, my Lady, how shall I ever thank you?"
She sat down and drew him towards her. "Dick," she said, "did you
never hear that the Byngs and the Chesters were cousins?"
"No, madam!"
"Ah, but they are! Lady Chester was Mistress Elizabeth Byng."
"I never heard of it, madam," said Dick.
"Will you not have me for a cousin, Dick?" she asked persuasively.
"Ay, that will I though!" he cried eagerly. He would have said the
same had she proposed to be his grandmother. He cared not a straw
how it might have come about. It was enough for him that she desired
to be akin to him--poor, lonely little wretch. Why, what a different
thing life might be, in this room, with such a cousin!
"Dick, will you tell me all about yourself some day?" she asked next.
"Now, madam--"
"Say 'Cousin Dorothy'," she said.
"Now, Cousin Dorothy. You will not tell anyone? You will never let
them take me away?" He looked up wistfully.
"No one shall part you from me, Dick. That I promise you," she said,
kissing him. "You shall stay with me always if you care, Dick. I
live here quite alone. I doubt whether anyone in the world remembers
poor Dorothy Byng. In all this long war, Dick, neither friend nor
foe has broken the quiet of our life here. We have never seen so
much as a plume or a crop-head from the windows. You will be safe
enough here, if you think you can bide in such a dull place."
She had won Dick's confidence as completely as Giles and his master
had done. Sitting there at her knee, he told her his story as well
as he could. Some of the incidents puzzled her, explain them how he
would, stumbling amongst the current language of the Seven Thorns.
On that, and on many other occasions, she made him tell his tale
again and again. There were parts of it quite beyond her credence.
For one thing, she would not believe the Cavaliers wanted Dick for
punishment, or that the two who came to the inn were on the look-out
for him, or remembered, or recognized him. She tried to reason away
his fear of detection, for she saw it weighed on his mind.
"When you're stronger, Dick, you'll forget all about it. Someone has
deceived you about the proclamation. You misunderstood the officers
at the inn."
"But there was the one on the road," Dick reminded her. "The one
sent to bring me back."
"We don't understand the whole matter, 'tis plain, Dick," she said
thoughtfully. "And the only way to make it all clear is to enquire
amongst His Majesty's forces."
But this suggestion almost threw Dick into a frenzy of terror.
"No, no, I beseech you, madam!" he cried. "They will come and seize
me! Oh, please, let it be!"
"But I want you set right, Dick."
"Oh, no!" he persisted. "I would rather--far, far rather not. Ah,
madam, to be taken back before all those fine gentleman and disgraced
as a liar!"
"But you are not a liar."
"No; but how prove it?" he said piteously. "They do so confuse a
person. They talk with two meanings, and one can't tell which to
answer. Whatever you say they laugh, and make it sound different.
Dear Lady Dorothy, keep me from them!"
"Well," she said, "we'll say no more about it at present. But, my
child, 'tis months since your adventure at Lumley. Think you any of
those teasing gentlemen would remember your face if they saw you?"
But Dick could not be argued out of his terror. The sight of a
Cavalier would almost have killed him with apprehension.
"Had you dealt direct with the King, Dick, you would stand in danger
of recognition if he met you. He never forgets a face, once seen, be
it peer's or pauper's."
"I didn't see the King," said Dick. He begged her ladyship so
earnestly not to stir in the matter, and to keep his very name from
everyone, that at length she consented. She would not wholly
sympathize with his fears, however, and tried, sometimes by coaxing
and sometimes by laughing, to persuade him out of them. But Dick's
chief sorrow was that he could not interest her in Giles. Lady
Dorothy dismissed the mention of him with a little gesture of
disgust. A stable-helper, tramping the road in tatters, taking the
first job that came, was distinctly disagreeable to her.
"Tell me all the rest as often as you will, Dick," she would say,
laughing. "But, if you love me, spare me Giles."
Dick felt this state of mind difficult to understand, but after much
arguing, and some tears, he gave the subject up in despair. He
supposed it was because she was a great lady, and great ladies, be
they never so charming, must have their foibles. To a great lord,
now, like Giles's master, what an acceptable subject was dear Giles!
The veto placed on Giles's praises prevented Dick from telling his
story very well. She seemed to find very unsatisfactory points in
it. For instance, why had not Giles honestly given Dick his master's
name? Why all that mystery with the token, pray? And what was the
token--a coin? But Dick declared he had not noticed it much. He did
not think it was a coin. It had not a crowned head on. Giles's
master had not given it back to him. Then she asked if Dick could
not describe Giles's master. Dick's description, though it seemed to
him truthful, was not convincing, the most lucid facts being that he
had worn a black velvet suit, and did not look like a soldier. But
he had said before that Giles had told him that his master was a
soldier, and her Ladyship shook her head doubtfully. And if Giles
was not at Dent when it was seen by the relief-party, where was he?
Dead, Dick supposed. She did not seem to think so. She was sure the
boy was telling the truth as far as he knew it, but she was certain
he had in some way been grossly deceived. Poor, simple country boy,
he had been sacrificed to someone's private ends, she thought. For
the Royalist proclamation she had nothing but contempt.
"Dick," she said one day, "I believe your cousin John Dent's at the
bottom of this trouble."
"Oh, how, Cousin Dorothy?" he asked with surprise.
"Why, I believe he had you stolen from Lumley, and set Master Purvis
to take you to the Seven Thorns. For, you see, he would be the next
baronet were you lost for ever."
Dick pondered this proposition for some time, but could not accept
it. He firmly believed Master Purvis had saved him from the
Provost-Marshal--the Provost-Marshal with whose justice the gentleman
at Lumley had threatened him if they failed to find Giles. Master
Purvis might have chosen a better home for him. But perhaps that
cruel man, Newton, had taken him to friends of his own to save
trouble. He had evidently been well known to the Tomlinsons. He
could not connect Captain Dent with the business in any way. He did
not think he had been at Lumley, and Master Purvis had never
mentioned his name.
"You have no other brothers, Dick?" asked her Ladyship. "I
mean--John Dent is your heir?"
"Yes," said Dick, "he is my heir."
"Then you have no other brothers, Dick?" she persisted.
"I never had either brother or sister of my own, madam."
"Not of your own?" she repeated.
"No. I had a step-brother. He died--oh, it will be six years ago
now!--in France."
"Do you remember him?" she asked, looking into the fire.
"No, Cousin Dorothy. I never saw him."
"How was that, Dick?"
"Master Purvis said he quarrelled with my father. I don't know. I
never heard. He never came to Dent--never after I was born, I'm
sure."
"Oh!" she said.