IN WHICH THE CAPTAIN’S WIT BECOMES A RIVAL OF MY OWN.
ON the fateful morrow the frost still held, and gave no sign of
yielding. The Doctor rode over towards noon to attend the Captain’s
leg. When he left the library I took his professional opinion on both
that member and its owner.
“Doing nicely, very nicely,” says the Doctor. “Nor are the injuries as
serious as we did at first suppose.”
“We shall have him about on crutches in a day or two, perhaps?” says I,
making a wry face.
“Not this fortnight,” says the Doctor, “nay, not this three weeks. This
morning now he tried to alter the position of his leg, but it was so
stiff and gave the poor man such an excruciating pain that he desisted
the instant he began.”
“I was trusting, Doctor,” I replied, “that the Captain would have his
heels up for at least a month. A man of his activity would benefit by
rest.”
“Well, my dear lady, let us think about it,” says the Doctor.
“And I believe, sir,” says I, insinuatingly, “that you had better stay
to dinner while you do.”
I never remember a day that took longer to consume the sun’s light,
or a night more tardy to arrive. At five p.m. the Captain scrawled
the information: “In an hour, madam, unless a particular circumstance
prevents it, my report must be dispatched.” And I was grateful to
the Captain’s air of mystery for causing me to laugh so. “Unless a
particular circumstance prevents it.” A little after six Emblem bore
me the news that the Corporal was mounted and away. As Goodman was to
bring me the result as soon as one had been arrived at, I awaited him
in privacy, and was so nervous and excited, too, that I preferred to
have my supper served there, instead of wearing the mask of my habitual
indifference, and sitting down with the family as usual.
Seven struck, but no Goodman came. A quarter past, and I began to
speculate upon miscarriages. But presently, to my relief, I caught the
sound of heavy boots ascending, and on his knock I invited Goodman to
come in.
“Well?” says I.
“Under lock and key, your ladyship,” says Goodman. “’A kicked a bit,
’a swore a bit, when we took him from behind; but we dropped him in,
and slipped the bolt and turned the key; his ’oss has been taken to
the farm, and I left John, my son, a sittin’ afore the cellar door a
readin’ in The Courier.”
“No unnecessary violence, I hope,” says I.
“Not a bit, my lady. But it’s a mercy that there weren’t. He turned
rampageous like; but John, my son, had got him by the muffler, and my
knee was a kneelin’ in the middle of his shirt. We dropped him in the
hole, simple an’ easy as a child. He might ’a fell upon his nose, but
I judge from the crackin’ sort o’ sound he made that it liker was his
head. But he’ll take no hurt, my lady; no, not he, for that Corp’ral’s
the toughest tooth that ever chewed up bull-beef.”
“And did you abstract the paper?” I inquired.
“Here it is,” says he, and gave it to me with a proud appearance.
I dismissed the honest fellow with a purse and a few compliments on his
exceptional ability, which even the best of men are greedy to receive;
and gave him some instructions touching their captive’s entertainment.
You may take it that I never was more complacent in any battle than
in the signal victory my arms had achieved in this. The Captain’s
wit might be considerable, but it was indeed a satisfaction to hold
the proof that my own resources were, after all, despite my foe’s
unscrupulosity and keenness, good enough to thwart him. His emissary,
his special messenger, his wretched tool, was under lock and key; the
dread instrument he had so diligently waved above my head, and had
disturbed my dreams with, had not yet reached the Government, but lay
upon my writing-table, a prisoner of war. ’Twas a very triumph. I
picked up this red-sealed horror and brandished it before the blaze.
“The Secretary of State, Whitehall, London.” I insulted that elegant
inscription in divers ways, but ere I bestowed upon it the crowning
indignity of all, its committal to the flames, the whim seized me
to read its precious contents once again. Tearing off the cover, I
drew forth four precisely folded sheets of foolscap. But directly
afterwards, I think a feather might have felled me. There was not a
word of writing on them!
What could be the meaning? The packet had been sealed implicitly with
a great array of wax; had been addressed in a large, fair hand to the
Secretary of State; had been ravished from the custody of Flickers, yet
here it was, blanker than my hand.
I was wholly staggered. Presently I plagued my wits for explanations,
but no matter how diligent my mind was it could not override the fact
that the letter was empty. Later I took counsel of Mrs. Emblem, but she
could merely stare and wag her silly head. On her suggestion, however,
I resummoned William Goodman. He swore an oath that this was the only
document on the person of the Corporal. When I pressed him on the
point he reluctantly admitted that as they barred the door upon the
prisoner after the rape of the packet, he called out to them to this,
or similar, effect:
“These dirty doings is all that ladyship o’ yours. I know; but harkee!
just you tell that brazen jade o’ yours the Captain’s not a fool, the
Captain’s not, but smart, downright smart, my boys, and laughs at such
as her. And tell her she’s welcome to the paper, for it’s not a bit o’
use to her, nor to me, nor to the Captain, and she’s welcome to chew
it to her supper if she likes; and you can tell her, boys, that the
Captain’s laughing at her in his sleeve.”
Goodman then withdrew. Turning on Emblem fiercely when he had done so,
I cried out in the very extremity of rage:
“Oh, the deep devil! Oh, the cunning, foxey fiend! But, remark me,
girl, d’ye hear? I say, remark me, I’ll be revenged upon that Captain
as I’m a female. I’m resolved upon it, I’ll be revenged. Ha, thou
ancient enemy, I’ll have thee yet, and then I’ll twist thee. Ha! I see
thee squirming like a lizard in the sun. Thou belly-wriggling snake,
I’ll pay thee for it. Eve was not my early mamma else! I’ll correct
thee of these Eden tricks, thou worm, thou abominable night-bite!”
It was the pains of disappointment, combined with the keen thought
that, after all, the Captain had occasion for his mockery that whipt
me to this transport. The descent from supposition to hard fact was,
indeed, most cruel. My pretty schemes, that had been designed to
assist young Anthony and show the crafty soldier in a foolish light,
where were they now? And the Captain sitting calmly down and laughing
to himself at my predicament! Mrs. Polly Emblem had wisely fled the
chamber, else I would not have answered for her at that instant.
An hour passed, and I had pulled all the curls out of my hair, and had
washed half the powder from my face with weeping, when the door was
opened and Mr. Anthony appeared. He looked at me steadily a minute, a
deal of criticism in his eye.
“Why, Bab,” he cries, “what in the prophet’s name’s upon you? ’Tis
a new _rôle_, I see. What in the name of mercy is the part? Are you
Niobe mourning for her young, or a pale Jocasta, or a drunken baggage
that goes too often to the ‘Jug?’”
“Out, rogue,” says I, “or I will put you out.”
“I see you have already put yourself out,” says he. “But what in
conscience is the matter?”
“Out, rogue,” I repeated. “I will not have your horrid sex intruding on
my presence--wretched, crafty, undermining creatures!”
“Faith!” says he, “I’ve always said it. Wretched, puling, prying
rogues. Here, Bab, I’ll just unslip these petticoats and will resume
the breeches of a man.”
“Mention that word again and I’ll beat you to a purpose, you insolent
slip of beggary.”
“Go on, sweet,” says he, taking his seat calmly by the fire. “I like
it. Your beauty is most monstrous when your eyes blaze. Rat me, if you
don’t look an accidental angel, darling.”
Now, as this audacious rebel sat there laughing quietly in true
enjoyment of my rage, I judged it better to restrain it if I could,
and tell him of the case. He heard me out with patience, approved
heartily of my trick, paid me a compliment on the unscrupulosity of its
character, swore I was a cunning one, and so forth; but when I showed
him the clean paper with never a written word upon it, he cried: “That
beats me!” and grew as thoughtful as an owl.
“Sir Sapience,” says I, “I should value your opinion.”
“Witchcraft, as I’m a Christian man,” says he. “But that Captain
is--well, that Captain is----”
“He is, indeed,” says I, with a significance not to be conveyed by a
mere adjective or noun.
For an hour or more we broke our minds upon this problem. It was the
deepest mystery, and of that provoking kind that makes one unhappy till
one has solved it. As it would not profit us to keep the Corporal in
durance, I judged it right to take measures to release him. But it was
certain that as soon as he was at large my guilt would be published to
his officer. Therefore I took boldness for my course, and stepped down
straightway to the Captain. I carried the blue papers and the mutilated
seal with me.
My enemy was alone. He received me with the courtesy that never failed
him, while I, with the consideration that was habitual to me, asked
politely of his leg.
“Captain,” I decisively began, “an accident of a rather serious sort
hath happened to that emissary of yours.”
“My soul,” cried the Captain, anxiously, “is that so? Pray tell me of
it, madam.”
“I will strike a bargain first,” says I, coolly, and cast the papers
down before his eyes.
I think I never saw a man so taken.
“Ods wounds!” he cries, “how came these in your custody?”
“An accident hath occurred to that emissary of yours,” I repeated,
and smiled upon his urgent face, “and you shall hear the details of
it on condition that you do confess why this packet is a bogus. I can
assure you, Captain, that I am burning to learn the reason for this
make-believe.”
He tried to hedge at this, and get news of the Corporal out of me
without giving me the secret that I so desired. But if he considered
I was a child in these affairs to be evaded lightly he was early
undeceived.
“Not a word, not a hint, sir,” I says, “until you have told me why
you have furnished the Government with such a short account. And I am
persuaded, sir, that that Corporal of yours is in the least enviable
plight.”
My reluctant enemy fenced with me a long half hour, but I was so
tenacious of my course, and parried him with such an ease, that in the
end I forced him to desist.
“Very well,” he said, “I’ll tell you, madam. The fact is I have been
trying to intimidate you. There has been a conspiracy between his
lordship and myself to frighten you into a betrayal of the prisoner.
From the first I have been convinced that you could put your hand upon
that rebel if you cared, and, my dear lady, it may please you now to
know that up to this instant I have not budged one point from that
opinion. I am certain that if you chose you could deliver him up to
us to-night. Now we let you read the particular narrative that held my
lord responsible, and were at pains to cause you to believe that it was
going to the Government for the most obvious of reasons. And as you
are aware, we have even thought fit to prolong the farce by sending
Flickers southward with a bogus packet.”
“This is very fine and pat,” says I, “and sounds like a peroration; but
under your favour, sir, I should be glad to examine you upon it. Will
you tell me, sir, on whom the blame will fall? If it’s not to be on me,
and not to be upon his lordship, who is going to suffer?”
“Yours to command, James Grantley,” the Captain answered, with a grave
and happy dignity that sat upon him charmingly, I thought. “Does your
ladyship suppose that I am a snivel or a cur? Hath your ladyship formed
so kind a judgment of my character as to hold me capable of allowing my
friends to suffer rather than myself.”
This vindication of himself made him appear so handsome and so
lofty, that I felt that this deep enemy of mine had no right to
present so excellent a figure. ’Twas palpable, besides, that he could
out-manœuvre me in every way, and was therefore a person to be hated.
“Well, Captain,” says I, reproachfully, “I trust you do repent of the
fever you have thrown me in; of the sleepless nights you’ve given me:
of the visions of the Tower with which I have been beset.”
“Evildoers,” says he, sternly, “must command no sympathy.”
“’Tis a hard name, sir,” I says.
“Truth, madam, is not a courtier.”
“Ah, no!” I sighed, and added insinuatingly, “but I have never read
the history of the ill-fated Mary of Scotland without costing myself a
tear.”
“Had I been the executioner,” says the Captain, grimly, “there had been
no bungling at the lopping of her lovely, wicked head.”
“My dear Captain, you are perfectly convinced of that?” And I searched
the harsh man terribly with my eyes.
He lowered his own a point, and coughed to cover his confusion. I had
now to tell the Captain of the Corporal’s misfortune. While in the act
of doing this, I kept a lookout for his anger, but except for the most
delicate little smile that seemed to go crawling round his jaw, his
face was as simple and inscrutable as ever.
“I think, madam,” says he, “that I should praise the address you have
displayed. For the second time you have outwitted his Majesty the King.
But, pray, madam, be careful of the third. The third time is generally
crucial.”
“Do I discover a warning or a threat in this, sir?” I pleasantly
inquired.
“Only the expression of an honest admiration,” says the Captain, whose
kind smile on this occasion appeared to be dancing round his teeth.
The Corporal was released that evening. I regret that this honest man’s
opinion of my conduct in this case is not preserved among my archives.
I feel sure that had I been able to supply it, it would have won the
approbation of the gentle reader.