The Tavern Knight

  CHAPTER XX. THE CONVERTED HOGAN

  Night black and impenetrable had set in ere Kenneth and his escortclattered over the greasy stones of Waltham's High Street, and drew upin front of the Crusader Inn.

  The door stood wide and hospitable, and a warm shaft of light fell fromit and set a glitter upon the wet street. Avoiding the common-room, thesergeant led Kenneth through the inn-yard, and into the hostelry by aside entrance. He urged the youth along a dimly-lighted passage. On adoor at the end of this he knocked, then, lifting the latch, he usheredKenneth into a roomy, oak-panelled chamber.

  At the far end a huge fire burnt cheerfully, and with his back to it,his feet planted wide apart upon the hearth, stood a powerfully builtman of medium height, whose youthful face and uprightness of carriageassorted ill with the grey of his hair, pronouncing that greynesspremature. He seemed all clad in leather, for where his jerkin stoppedhis boots began. A cuirass and feathered headpiece lay in a corner,whilst on the table Kenneth espied a broad-brimmed hat, a huge sword,and a brace of pistols.

  As the boy's eyes came back to the burly figure on the hearth, he waspuzzled by a familiar, intangible something in the fellow's face.

  He was racking his mind to recall where last he had seen it, when withslightly elevated eyebrows and a look of recognition in his somewhatprominent blue eyes.

  "Soul of my body," exclaimed the man in surprise, "Master Stewart, as Ilive."

  "Stuart!" cried both sergeant and trooper in a gasp, starting forward toscan their prisoner's face.

  At that the burly captain broke into a laugh.

  "Not the young man Charles Stuart," said he; "no, no. Your captive isnone so precious. It is only Master Kenneth Stewart, of Bailienochy."

  "Then it is not even our man," grumbled the soldier.

  "But Stewart is not the name he gave," cried the sergeant. "JasperBlount he told me he was called. It seems that after all we havecaptured a malignant, and that I was well advised to bring him to you."

  The captain made a gesture of disdain. In that moment Kenneth recognizedhim. He was Harry Hogan--the man whose life Galliard had saved inPenrith.

  "Bah, a worthless capture, Beddoes," he said.

  "I know not that," retorted the sergeant. "He carries papers which hestates are from Joseph Ashburn, of Castle Marleigh, to ColonelPride. Colonel Pride's name is on the package, but may not that be asubterfuge? Why else did he say he was called Blount?"

  Hogan's brows were of a sudden knit.

  "Faith, Beddoes, you are right. Remove his sword and search him."

  Calmly Kenneth suffered them to carry out this order. Inwardly he boiledat the delay, and cursed himself for having so needlessly given thename of Blount. But for that, it was likely Hogan would have straightwaydismissed him. He cheered himself with the thought that after all theywould not long detain him. Their search made, and finding nothing uponhim but Ashburn's letter, surely they would release him.

  But their search was very thorough. They drew off his boots, andwell-nigh stripped him naked, submitting each article of his apparel toa careful examination. At length it was over, and Hogan held Ashburn'spackage, turning it over in his hands with a thoughtful expression.

  "Surely, sir, you will now allow me to proceed," cried Kenneth. "Iassure you the matter is of the greatest urgency, and unless I am inLondon by midnight I shall be too late."

  "Too late for what?" asked Hogan.

  "I--I don't know."

  "Oh?" The Irishman laughed unpleasantly. Colonel Pride and he wereon anything but the best of terms. The colonel knew him for a godlesssoldier of fortune bound to the Parliament's cause by no interest beyondthat of gain; and, himself a zealot, Colonel Pride had with distastefulfrequency shown Hogan the quality of his feelings towards him. ThatHogan was not afraid of him, was because it was not in Hogan's nature tobe afraid of anyone. But he realized at least that he had cause to be,and at the present moment it occurred to him that it would be passingsweet to find a flaw in the old Puritan's armour. If the package wereharmless his having opened it was still a matter that the discharge ofhis duty would sanction. Thus he reasoned; and he resolved to break theseal and make himself master of the contents of that letter.

  Hogan's unpleasant laugh startled Kenneth. It suggested to him thatperhaps, after all, his delay was by no means at an end; that Hogansuspected him of something--he could not think of what.

  Then in a flash an idea came to him.

  "May I speak to you privately for a moment, Captain Hogan?" he inquiredin such a tone of importance--imperiousness, almost--that the Irishmanwas impressed by it. He scented disclosure.

  "Faith, you may if you have aught to tell me," and he signed to Beddoesand his companion to withdraw.

  "Now, Master Hogan," Kenneth began resolutely as soon as they werealone, "I ask you to let me go my way unmolested. Too long already hasthe stupidity of your followers detained me here unjustly. That I reachLondon by midnight is to me a matter of the gravest moment, and youshall let me."

  "Soul of my body, Mr. Stewart, what a spirit you have acquired sincelast we met."

  "In your place I should leave our last meeting unmentioned, masterturncoat."

  The Irishman's eyebrows shot up.

  "By the Mass, young cockerel, I mislike your tone--"

  "You'll have cause to dislike it more if you detain me." He wasdesperate now. "What would your saintly, crop-eared friends say if theyknew as much of your past history as I do?"

  "Tis a matter for conjecture," said Hogan, humouring him.

  "How think you would they welcome the story of the roystering rake anddebauchee who deserted the army of King Charles because they were aboutto hang him for murder?"

  "Ah! how, indeed?" sighed Hogan.

  "What manner of reputation, think you, that for a captain of the godlyarmy of the Commonwealth?"

  "A vile one, truly," murmured Hogan with humility.

  "And now, Mr. Hogan," he wound up loftily, "you had best return me thatpackage, and be rid of me before I sow mischief enough to bring you acrop of hemp."

  Hogan stared at the lad's flushed face with a look of whimsicalastonishment, and for a brief spell there was silence between them.Slowly then, with his eyes still fixed upon Kenneth's, the captainunsheathed a dagger. The boy drew back, with a sudden cry of alarm.Hogan vented a horse-laugh, and ran the blade under the seal ofAshburn's letter.

  "Be not afraid, my man of threats," he said pleasantly. "I have nothought of hurting you--leastways, not yet." He paused in the act ofbreaking the seal. "Lest you should treasure uncomfortable delusions,dear Master Stewart, let me remind you that I am an Irishman--not afool. Do you conceive my fame to be so narrow a thing that when I leftthe beggarly army of King Charles for that of the Commonwealth, I didnot realize how at any moment I might come face to face with someone whohad heard of my old exploits, and would denounce me? You do not find memasquerading under an assumed name. I am here, sir, as Harry Hogan, asometime dissolute follower of the Egyptian Pharaoh, Charles Stuart;an erstwhile besotted, blinded soldier in the army of the Amalekite,a whilom erring malignant, but converted by a crowning mercy intoa zealous, faithful servant of Israel. There were vouchsafings andupliftings, and the devil knows what else, when this stray lamb wasgathered to the fold."

  He uttered the words with a nasal intonation, and a whimsical look atKenneth.

  "Now, Mr. Stewart, tell them what you will, and they will tell you yetmore in return, to show you how signally the light of grace hath beenshed over me."

  He laughed again, and broke the seal. Kenneth, crestfallen and abashed,watched him, without attempting further interference. Of what avail?

  "You had been better advised, young sir, had you been less hasty andanxious. It is a fatal fault of youth's, and one of which nothing buttime--if, indeed, you live--will cure you. Your anxiety touching thispackage determines me to open it."

  Kenneth sneered at the man's conclusions, and, shrugging his shoulders,turned slightly aside.

 
"Perchance, master wiseacres, when you have read it, you will appreciatehow egotism may also lead men into fatal errors. Haply, too, you will beable to afford Colonel Pride some satisfactory reason for tampering withhis correspondence."

  But Hogan heard him not. He had unfolded the letter, and at the firstwords he beheld, a frown contracted his brows. As he read on the frowndeepened, and when he had done, an oath broke from his lips. "God'slife!" he cried, then again was silent, and so stood a moment with benthead. At last he raised his eyes, and let them rest long and searchinglyupon Kenneth, who now observed him in alarm.

  "What--what is it?" the lad asked, with hesitancy.

  But Hogan never answered. He strode past him to the door, and flung itwide.

  "Beddoes!" he called. A step sounded in the passage, and the sergeantappeared. "Have you a trooper there?"

  "There is Peter, who rode with me."

  "Let him look to this fellow. Tell him to set him under lock and bolthere in the inn until I shall want him, and tell him that he shallanswer for him with his neck."

  Kenneth drew back in alarm.

  "Sir--Captain Hogan--will you explain?"

  "Marry, you shall have explanations to spare before morning, else I'ma fool. But have no fear, for we intend you no hurt," he added moresoftly. "Take him away, Beddoes; then return to me here."

  When Beddoes came back from consigning Kenneth into the hands of histrooper, he found Hogan seated in the leathern arm-chair, with Ashburn'sletter spread before him on the table.

  "I was right in my suspicions, eh?" ventured Beddoes complacently.

  "You were more than right, Beddoes, you were Heaven-inspired. It is noState matter that you have chanced upon, but one that touches a man inwhom I am interested very nearly."

  The sergeant's eyes were full of questions, but Hogan enlightened him nofurther.

  "You will ride back to your post at once, Beddoes," he commanded."Should Lord Oriel fall into your hands, as we hope, you will send himto me. But you will continue to patrol the road, and demand the businessof all comers. I wish one Crispin Galliard, who should pass this way erelong, detained, and brought to me. He is a tall, lank man--"

  "I know him, sir," Beddoes interrupted. "The Tavern Knight they calledhim in the malignant army--a rakehelly, dissolute brawler. I saw him inWorcester when he was taken after the fight."

  Hogan frowned. The righteous Beddoes knew overmuch. "That is the man,"he answered calmly. "Go now, and see that he does not ride past you. Ihave great and urgent need of him."

  Beddoes' eyes were opened in surprise.

  "He is possessed of valuable information," Hogan explained. "Away withyou, man."

  When alone, Harry Hogan turned his arm-chair sideways towards the fire.Then, filling himself a pipe--for in his foreign campaigning he hadacquired the habit of tobacco-smoking--he stretched his sinewy legsacross a second chair, and composed himself for meditation. An hour wentby; the host looked in to see if the captain required anything. Anotherhour sped on, and the captain dozed.

  He awoke with a start. The fire had burned low, and the hands of thehuge clock in the corner pointed to midnight. From the passage came tohim the sound of steps and angry voices.

  Before Hogan could rise, the door was flung wide, and a tall, gaunt manwas hustled across the threshold by two soldiers. His head was bare,and his hair wet and dishevelled. His doublet was torn and his shoulderbleeding, whilst his empty scabbard hung like a lambent tail behind him.

  "We have brought him, captain," one of the men announced.

  "Aye, you crop-eared, psalm-whining cuckolds, you've brought me, d--nyou," growled Sir Crispin, whose eyes rolled fiercely.

  As his angry glance lighted upon Hogan's impressive face, he abruptlystemmed the flow of invective that rushed to his lips.

  The Irishman rose, and looked past him at the troopers. "Leave us," hecommanded shortly.

  He remained standing by the hearth until the footsteps of his men haddied away, then he crossed the chamber, passed Crispin without a word,and quietly locked the door. That done, he turned a friendly smile onhis tanned face--and holding out his hand:

  "At last, Cris, it is mine to thank you and to repay you in some measurefor the service you rendered me that night at Penrith."