In a small tavern at Nottingham was a large but low-roofed room, with
the heavy beams, blackened by smoke, almost touching the heads of some
of the taller guests; in which, on the night after that of which we
have just spoken, were assembled as many persons as it could well
contain; and a strange scene of confusion it presented. Hats and
feathers, swords and daggers, pipes and glasses, bottles and plates,
big men and little, men of war and men of peace; an atmosphere
composed of smoke, of the fumes of wine, the smell of strong waters
and of beer, and the odour of several large pieces of roast meat,
together with sounds of innumerable kinds, oaths, cries for the
tapster and the boy, loud laughter, low murmurs, the hoarse
accusation, the fierce rejoinder, the sustained discussion, the prosy
tale, and the dull snore, as well as the half-drunken song, had all
their place in the apartment, which might well have been supposed the
tap-room of the tower of Babel. The house was, in short, a place of
resort for the lower order of Cavaliers, and the hour that at which
the greater part having supped, were betaking themselves to their
drink with the laudable determination, then but too common, of leaving
themselves as little wit as possible till the next morning.
"_Basta, basta!_ It sufficeth!" cried a tall man with a peculiarly
constructed nose. "I would find the good youth if he were in a hundred
Hulls. What's Hull to me? or I to Hull? as the poet says. I know, if I
can bring the girl back out of his clutches, where a hundred crowns
are to be got. We have open hands amongst us; but mark me, master, if
you are deceiving me, I will cut your ears off."
The man whom he addressed was a small, sharp-eyed man, reddish in the
hair and pale about the gills; but he answered stoutly, "That's what
you dare not, Master Barecolt."
"Dare not!" cried Barecolt, seizing a knife that lay upon the table,
and starting up with an ominous look--"Dare not! What is it that I
dare not? Now, look you, repeat that word again, and you shall go
forth from this room with no more ears than a grinder's cur. Dare not!
thou small chandler, I could break you across my knee like a piece of
rotten wood."
There was some truth in what he said, and the small man felt the force
of that truth, so that he thought it expedient to lower his tone.
"I meant I would take the law of you if you did," he said; "so no more
of cutting off ears, Master Barecolt, for we have sharp justices in
Nottingham. But what I said is very true. I know old Dry very well;
have known him, indeed, these twelve years. When first he used to come
to Hull to buy goods of the Hamburghers, I had a shop there, where he
used to stop and take a glass of cinnamon now and then. But he has
grown a great man now, and would hardly notice an old acquaintance,
especially as he was riding with men of war."
"And you are sure he had a woman with him?" asked Barecolt, resuming
his seat and filling his glass.
"A sort of girl, mayhap some sixteen years of age," answered his
companion. "She looked somewhat rueful too, with her eyes cast down
upon the ground as she rode along."
"That's she," replied Barecolt; "'tis beyond all doubt. What does the
dried herring at Hull, I wonder? Let me see. It would take some
threescore men to capture Hull, I doubt?"
"Threescore!" exclaimed the other; "some thirty thousand, you mean."
Barecolt gave him a look of unutterable contempt. "Four petards," he
said, continuing his own calculations in an under tone, "for the outer
gate, the bridge, the inner gate, and one to spare, ha! threescore
men--half must be musketeers. Well, there is Hughes's company. I will
do it."
"You had better not try," answered his companion. "I could tell you a
much better plan, if you would strike a bargain in an honest way, and
give me half the reward for finding this young woman, as you say there
are great folks looking after her."
"Half the reward, thou little Carthagenian!" exclaimed Barecolt. "By
my faith! if you have half the reward, you shall have the danger too;
and a quarter of it would turn your liver as white as a hen pigeon's."
"Why, I will save you all danger, if you will listen to me," answered
the small gentleman. "I will tell you my plan, and you shall judge,
and whatever risk there is, I will share readily enough. I know all
the houses that Dry frequents in Hull; all his haunts, from the store
where he used to buy dried beef and neats' tongues salted, to the shop
where he used to take the fourth glass of strong waters. If you will
put off your swagger and your feathers, clothe yourself like a
Puritan, and walk demurely, we will take two companions, slip into
Hull with a couple of horse-loads of drapery, find out where Master
Dry lodges, and while I busy him with a little speculation in his own
way, by which I can easily make him believe that he will fill his
pockets, you can deal with the girl, and get her out of the city."
"Clothe myself like a puritan!" said Barecolt, thoughtfully, "that is
the only difficult part of the affair; for unless I steal old Major
Randal's suit of black, where I am to get a pious doublet I know not.
The fifty crowns Lord Walton gave me have been spent on this new
bravery, and sundry pottle pots, together with things that shall be
nameless, friend Tibbets; but, by my faith! I will go and ask the good
lord for more. He will not grudge the pistoles if we can get Mistress
Arrah back again to him. He's as fond of her as a hen of her chickens,
yet all in honour, Master Tibbets, all in honour, upon my life. I will
go this minute, as soon as I have finished this pint;" and again he
filled his glass, and drained it at a draught.
He then rose from his seat, and was in the act of saying, "Wait here
for me, and I will be back in a minute," when an officer was seen
dimly through the smoke, entering by the door on the other side of the
room. After gazing round for a moment, from table to table, he
exclaimed aloud, "Is one Captain Barecolt here? He is wanted by the
king."
"I knew it?" cried Barecolt, giving a towering look at Master Tibbets.
"I was sure of it--my great services, sir, my name is Barecolt, and
your very humble servant."
The officer gazed at him with a look of some consideration and
surprise. "My good friend," he said, "you seem scarcely fit to obey
the king's summons. You have been drinking."
"So does his majesty, I wot, when he thirsty," replied Barecolt,
nothing abashed; "but if it be of proportions you speak, if it be
quantity which makes the difference, I will soon remedy the amount of
wine within, by the application of water without. I am not drunk, sir;
I never was drunk in my life. No, sir, nor was I ever the worse for
liquor, as it is termed, though often much the better for it. But
whenever I find my eyes a little misty, and see a fringe round the
candles, or feel the floor move in an unusual manner, or the cups
dance without any one touching them, I have a secret for remedying
such irregularities, which secret lies, like truth, in the bottom of a
well. Hold, Tapster! I have drunk wine enough to-night to justify me
in calling for water, even in a tavern. Tapster, I say, get me a
bucket of cold water from the pump, and put it down before the door,
then bring a napkin to take off the superfluous. I remember when I was
in the Palatinate going to see the great tun----"
"Sir, we have no time for tales," said the officer drily; "the king
waits. Make yourself as sober as you can, and as speedily as
possible."
"Sir, I am with you in an instant," rejoined Barecolt. "Master
Tibbets, wait here till I come back. You can finish the tankard for
me; it is paid for."
Thus saying, he went forth, and returned in a few minutes, buttoning
up his collar, with his scattered hair somewhat dishevelled and
dripping; and, saying he was ready, he followed the officer, making
another sign to Tibbets to wait for his return.
"Who is that fellow?"
"What the devil can the king want with him?"
"Why, it's Captain Barecolt, of Randal's."
"I think the king might have chosen a better man."
"That's a lie. There is not a better man in the service."
"He's a bragging fool."
"I dare say a coward too."
"No, no, no coward, for all his brags."
Such were some of the observations which followed Barecolt's departure
with the officer, while they wended on their way through the streets
of Nottingham to the king's lodging, whither we shall take leave to
follow them. The style and semblance of a court was kept up long after
the royal authority was gone; and in the first room which Barecolt
entered were a number of servants and attendants. Beyond that was a
vacant chamber, and then a small anteroom, in which a pale boy, in a
page's dress, sat reading by a lamp. He looked up, as the captain and
his conductor appeared, but did not offer to move till the officer
told him to go in, and say to his majesty, that Captain Barecolt was
in attendance; on which he rose, opened a door opposite, and knocked
at a second, which appeared within. Voices were heard speaking; and,
after a moment's pause, the boy repeated the signal, when the door was
opened, and he made the announcement.
"Let him wait," was the reply; and for about twenty minutes the worthy
captain remained, his head getting each moment cooler, and freer from
the fumes of the wine; but his fancy only became the more active and
rampant, and running away with him over the open plain of possibility,
without the slightest heed of whither she was carrying her rider.
Having already given the reader a sample of her doings with Captain
Barecolt in a preceding chapter, we will spare him on the present
occasion, especially as it would take much more time to recount her
vagaries in the good gentleman's brain that it did for her to enact
them.
At length the door opened, and a voice pronounced the words, "Captain
Barecolt!" at which sound the captain advanced and entered, not
without some trepidation, for there is something in majesty, even when
shorn of its beams, that is not to be lightlied by common men.
The king was seated at a table in a small room, with lights and papers
before him, and three or four gentlemen were standing round, of whom
Barecolt knew but one, even by sight. That one was the Earl of
Beverley, who, with a packet of letters in his hand, stood a little
behind and on the right of the king. The monarch wore his hat and
plume, and the full light was shining on his fine melancholy features,
which looked more sad rather than more cheerful for a faint smile that
was passing over his lip. His fair right hand lay upon the table, with
the fingers clasped round a roll of papers, upon which they closed and
opened more than once, while Barecolt advanced to the end of the table
with a low bow; and the monarch gazed at him attentively for a few
moments.
"Your name is Barecolt?" asked the king at length.
"It is, may it please your majesty," replied the captain. "You have
been much in France, I think?" continued Charles.
"Many years, sire," answered the soldier, "and speak the language as
my own."
"Good!" said the king. "With what parts of the country are you most
acquainted?"
"With all parts, your majesty," rejoined the captain, who was
beginning to recover his loquacity, which had been somewhat checked by
the first effect of the king's presence. "I have been in the north,
sire, where I fought against Fuentez; and I have travelled all over
the ground round Paris. I know every part of Picardy and the Isle of
France. Normandy, too, I have run through in every direction, and
could find my way from Caudabec to Alençon with my eyes blindfolded.
Poitou and Maine I am thoroughly conversant with; and know all the
towns on the Loire and in the Orleannois, the passes of the Cevennes,
the Forez, and the Vivarais."
But Charles waved his hand, saying, "Enough! enough! Now, tell me, if
you were landed on the coast of Normandy, say at Pont au-de-Mer, and
had to make your way secretly to Paris, what course would you take?"
"Please your majesty, Pont au-de-Mer is not a seaport," replied
Barecolt. The king smiled, and Barecolt continued, "I know it well,
and a pretty little town it is, upon the Rille."
"Well, well," said the king; "suppose you were landed at Harfleur,
then, I did but wish to try you, sir, how would you direct your course
for Paris from Harfleur?"
"If I were to go secretly, may it please your majesty," was the reply,
"I do not think I should go near Pont au-de-Mer at all, for then I
must pass through Rouen, where they are cute and cunning, ask all
sorts of questions, and look to passes sharply. No; I would rather
take a little round by Lisieux, Evreux, and Pacy, or perhaps, keep
still farther out from the Seine, and come upon Paris by Dreux,
Pontchartrain, and Versailles. Then they would never suspect one came
from the sea-side."
The king slowly nodded his head with a satisfied air, saying, "I see
you know what you speak of, my friend. My Lord of Beverley, this will
do. If you wish to ask him any more questions before you trust
yourself to his guidance, pray do so."
"Oh no, sire," replied the earl; "I satisfied myself by my
conversation with Major Randal, before I spoke with your majesty on
the subject. He assures me that Captain Barecolt knows France well,
and I have had cause to be aware that he is a serviceable companion in
moments of danger. There is but one bad habit, which I trust Captain
Barecolt will lay aside for the time: that is, too much talking. I am
going, sir, to Paris, on business of importance. The road that I know
is not now open to me, and I have need of one to accompany me who is
well acquainted with the country through which I have to pass. By his
majesty's permission, and on Major Randal's recommendation, I have
chosen you, sir, for a service which will be rewarded as according as
it is well performed. But you must recollect that the least whisper
that I am not what I seem may prove my ruin, though it can benefit no
other party, as it is to avoid sending despatches that I go myself."
"You need not be afraid, my lord," replied Barecolt; "for, though I am
a soldier of fortune, yet it has ways been my rule to stick to the
cause I first espouse till my engagement be up. If I do sell myself to
the best bidder, as soon as I have touched a crown the market is over.
I am no more for sale. The goods are disposed of; and if I were to go
over to the enemy even for an hour, I should look upon it that I was
stealing myself a sort of _felo de se_ in the code of honour, which I
never did, and never will be guilty of. Then, as for discretion, my
lord, I declare upon my word, that all the time I am with you I will
not utter one syllable of truth. I will be all one tall lie, saving
his majesty's presence. You shan't have to accuse me of speaking truth
indiscreetly, depend upon it."
"But speaking too much at all, Master Barecolt, may do as much harm,"
replied Lord Beverley: "a lie is a difficult thing to manage."
"For those who are not accustomed to it, my lord," replied Barecolt,
with a low bow; "but I am experienced, sir and owe my life some twenty
times over to a well-managed fiction. Oh a clumsy lie is a hateful
thing, not to be tolerated amongst gentlemen; and a timid lie is still
worse, for it shows cowardice; but a good bold falsehood, well
supported and dexterously planted, is as good as a battery at any
time."
"Not a very creditable sort of weapon," said the king, with a grave
brow. "But enough of this, sir. Where to deceive an enemy in open
strife, to gain a mighty object, such as security, or conceal one's
needful proceedings from the eyes of those who have no right to pry,
is the end proposed, some palliation may be found, perhaps, for a
deviation from the strict truth. Would it were not sometimes
necessary!" he added, looking round, as if doubtful of the approval of
all present; "but, at all events, to speak unnecessary untruths is as
dangerous as it is foolish, and as foolish as it is wicked."
"May it please your majesty," answered Barecolt, whose self-confidence
had now fully returned, "what your majesty says is quite just; but
some of these necessary lies I suppose we must tell from the
beginning. Neither I nor my lord the earl, I take it, must pass for an
Englishman, or there will be no more secrecy. We must both say we are
Frenchmen, or Dutchmen, or Italians--a good big falsehood to commence
with."
Lord Beverley laughed. "I am afraid, sire," he observed, "we must say
no more upon the subject, or we shall have a strange treatise upon
ethics; but, however, as we go across the country to embark, I will
endeavour to drill my friend here to use his tongue as little as may
be, so that we shall be spared more fraud than is needful. I will now
take my leave of your majesty, having received my instructions, and by
daybreak to-morrow I will be on my way. May God graciously speed your
majesty's cause during my absence!" Thus saying, he bent one knee, and
kissed Charles's hand, and then, making a sign to Barecolt to follow,
he quitted the presence.
"Now, Master Barecolt," said the earl, as soon as they were in the
street, "I know you are a man of action. Be with me by four to-morrow.
There is something for your preparations;" and he put a small but
heavy leathern bag in his hand, adding, "That is all that is needed
for a soldier, I know."
"Good faith! I must speak with Lord Walton before I go," answered
Barecolt, "though it be somewhat late."
"Well, then, come quick," replied the earl; and he led the way to the
lodging of his friend, where, while Barecolt entertained the young
nobleman for near an hour in the room below, Lord Beverley passed some
sweet, though parting moments with bright Annie Walton; and when he
left her, her cheek was glowing and her eyelids moist with tears.