CHAPTER NINE.
A RIGHT ROYAL EPISTLE.
The girls had got home, hard breathing, panting, from the haste they hadmade. But though supper was announced as set, they did not think ofsitting down to it, but instead, entered the withdrawing-room, a largeapartment, with windows facing front. In the bay of one of these, theirdresses unchanged and their hoods still on, they took stand, with eyesbent down the avenue, all visible from the window. At intervals alongthe road they had heard behind them the trampling of hoofs, and knewfrom what horses it proceeded. The sounds, at first faint and distant,had grown more distinct as they reached the park gate, and they had comeup the avenue with a run, to the surprise and somewhat alarm of theirfather, who at the time was outside awaiting their return.
Already in wonder at their being so late, he would have inquired intothe cause. But they anticipated him by at once telling him where theyhad been, what seen, and who, as they supposed, was advancing along theRuardean road.
This last bit of intelligence seemed greatly to excite him; and whilehis daughters watched from the window, he himself was also keeping vigilin the porch outside. After hearing what they had to say, he hadremained there, letting them pass in.
For a time the gaze of all was fixed on the park entrance, at the lowerend of the long avenue, where a massive oak gate traversed between twopiers of mason-work, old and ivy-mantled. Only for a short while werethey kept in suspense. The flurried girls had barely got back theirbreath when a grey horse was seen, with head jam up against the gate,his rider bending down in the saddle to undo its fastenings.
In an instant after it was pushed open, and they saw Reginald Trevorcome riding on towards the house, for they were now sure of its beinghe. He was yet at too great a distance for them to read the expressionupon his face; but one near enough might have noted it as strange,without being able to interpret it. All the more because of its seemingto undergo constant and sudden changes; now as one advancing reluctantlyto the performance of some disagreeable duty, wavering and seeminghalf-inclined to back out of it; anon, with resolution restored throughsome opposing impulse, as anger, this shown by the fire flashing in hiseyes.
Never had he ridden up that avenue swayed by such feelings, or under theexcitement of emotions so varied or vivid. Those he had hitherto feltwhile approaching Hollymead House were of a different nature. Confidentalways, or, if doubting, not enough to give him any great uneasiness.Vaga Powell resist him! She, a green country girl; he, a skilled,practised Lothario, conqueror in many a love combat! He could not thinkof failure. Nor would he have thought of it yet, believing the soleobstruction to his suit lay in the father. But now he had to face thatfather in a way likely to make his hostility more determined--turn itinto very hate, if it was not so already.
In truth, a _role_ of a very disagreeable kind was Reginald Trevorcalled upon to play; and more than once since entering on it he had feltlike cursing Sir John Wintour in his heart--the King as well.
As he drew near to the house, and saw the two fair faces in the window--a little surprised seeing hoods over their heads at that hour--he morethan ever realised the awkwardness of his errand. And, possibly, if atthat last moment Vaga Powell had come forth, as oft before, to give himgreeting, or even bestowed a smile from where she stood, he would haverisked all, forgiven the insult he had received, and left his dutyundone.
But no smile showed upon the girl's face, no glance gave him welcome;instead, he saw something like a frown, as never before. Only with aglimpse of that face was he favoured; Vaga, as he drew up in front,turning her back on him, and retiring into the shadowed obscurity of theroom, whither her sister had preceded her.
It may have been only a seeming rudeness on their part, andunintentional. Whether or no, it once more roused his resentmentagainst their father; who, still in the porch, received him with acountenance stern, as his own was vexed and angry.
There was a short interval of silence after the unexpected visitor haddrawn up, still keeping to his saddle. He could not well dismountwithout receiving invitation; and that was not extended to him, muchless word of welcome. Moreover his presence there, after what hadpassed, not only called for explanation, but by all the rules ofpoliteness required his giving it before aught else should be said.
He did not, however; seeming embarrassed, and leaving the master ofHollymead no choice but to take the initiative. Which the latter atlength did, saying sourly, and somewhat satirically--
"What may you be wanting with me, Mr Reginald Trevor? I take it yourbusiness is with _me_."
"With you it is," brusquely returned the other, still further nettled atthe way he was addressed.
"Have the goodness then to tell me what it is. I suppose it's somethingthat can be settled by you in the saddle. If not, you may alight andcome indoors."
Speech aggravating, terribly insulting, as Ambrose Powell intended itshould be. He had long ago taken the measure of the man, and wished todrive him to a distance, even further off than he had already done. Hislast words were enough, without the contemptuous look that accompaniedthem. But, stung by both, the emissary of Sir John Wintour stoodproudly up in his stirrups, as he replied, with a touch of satiretoo,--"No need, sir, to enter your very hospitable house, or even getoff my horse's back. My errand can be accomplished by delivering thisat your door. But, as you chance to be in it, permit me to hand itdirect to you."
While speaking he had drawn from under the breast of his doublet afolded sheet, a letter, on which was a large disc of red wax, stampedwith the King's seal.
The master of Hollymead was not so impolite as to refuse taking theletter from his hands; and, as soon as in his own, he tore it open andread,--
"For Ambrose Powell, Gentn.
"Trustie and well-beloved, Wee greete you well. Having obserued in thePresidents and custome of former times that all the Kings and Queenes ofthe Realme, vpon extraordinary occasions, haue vsed either to resort tothose Contributions, which arise from one generalitie of Subiects, or tothe priuate helpes of some well affected in particular, by way of loane:In which latter course Wee being at this time inforced to proceed, forsupply of some portions of Treasure for diuers publique seruices, andparticularly for continuing and increasing our magazins in some largeproportion in our Realme of Ireland, in our Nauie, and in our ffortes:in all which greater summes have been expended of late, both in buildingand repairing, and in making sundry prousions, than haue bene in twentieyeares before: We haue now in Our Eye an especiall care, that suchdiscretion may be obserued in the choise of the lenders, and such anindifferent distribution, as the summes that Wee shall receiue may beraised with an equall Consideration of men's abilities: And therefore,seeing men haue had so good experience of Our repayment of all thosesummes which we haue euer required in this kinde, Wee doubt not but Weeshall now receiue the like Argument of good affection from you (amongstother of Our Subiects), and that with such alacrity and readiness as maymake the same so much the more acceptable, especially seeing Wee requirebut that of some which few men would deny a friend, and haue a minderesolued to expose all our earthly fortune for the preseruation of thegenerall. The summe that Wee require of you by vertue of these presentsis three thousand Pounds, Which we do promise in the name of Us, ourheires and successors, to repay to you or your Assignes within eighteenemonethes after the payment thereof vnto the Commissioner. The personthat we have appointed to receiue it is our worthy servant, Sir Jno.Wintour, To whose hands Wee do require you to send it within twelue daysafter you have receiued this Priuy Seale, which, together with theCommissioner's acquittance, shall be sufficient Warrant unto theOfficers of our receipt for the repayment thereof at the timelimitted.--Giuen under our Priuy Seale at our Pallace of Westminster.
"Carolus Rex."
So ran the curious communication put into the hands of Ambrose Powell.
A letter of "Loan by Privy Seal" even more execrable both as to grammarand diction than the documents emanating from Royalty at the presentda
y--and that is admitting much.
Spoke the master of Hollymead, after perusing it:--
"Request for a loan, the King calls this! Beggarly enough in thebeginning--a very whine; but at the end more like the demand of arobber!"
"Mr Powell!" cried he who had presented it, his back now up in anger,"though but the messenger of Sir John Wintour, at the same time I'm inthe service of the King. And, holding his Majesty's commission, Icannot allow such talk as yours. It's almost the same as calling theKing a robber!"
"Take it as all the same, if you like, sirrah! And apply it also to SirJohn Wintour, your more immediate master. Go back, and say to both howI've treated the begging petition--thus!"
And at the word he tore the paper into scraps, flinging them at hisfeet, as something to be trampled upon.
At this Reginald Trevor became furious; all the more from again seeingtwo feminine faces in the window above, by their looks both seeming tospeak approval of what their father had said and done.
He might have given exhibition of his anger by some act of violence; butjust then he saw something else which prompted to prudence, effectuallyrestraining it. This something in the shape of three or four stalwartfellows--stablemen and servants of other sorts belonging to HollymeadHouse--who, having caught sound of the fracas in front, now appearedcoming round from the rear.
No need for Reginald Trevor, noting the scowl upon their faces, to tellhim they were foes, and as little to convince him of the small chance heand his varlet would have in an encounter with them. He neither thoughtof it nor any longer felt inclined to take vengeful action, not even tospeaking some strong words of menace that had risen to his lips.Instead, choking them down, and swallowing his chagrin as he best could,he said, in a resigned, humble way,--
"Oh! well, Mr Powell; what you've done or intend doing is no affair ofmine--specially. As you know, I'm here but in the performance of myduty, which I need not tell you is to me most disagreeable."
"_Very_ disagreeable, no doubt!" rejoined the master of Hollymead, in atone of cutting sarcasm; "and being so, the sooner you get through withit the better. I think you've made a finish of it now, unless you deemit part of this disagreeable duty to gather up those torn scraps of theKing's letter, and carry them back to the Queen's obsequious servant,and your master, Sir John."
In the way of insult, taunt could scarce go farther. And he againstwhom it was hurled keenly felt it; at the same time felt his ownimpotence either to resent or reply to it. For the three or fourfellows, with black brows, advancing from the rear, had been furtherreinforced, and now numbered nearly a dozen.
"I bid you good-evening, Mr Powell," said the emissary, as he turnedhis horse round, but too glad to get away from that unpleasant spot.
"Oh! good-evening, sir," returned the master of Hollymead, in a tone ofmock politeness; after which he stood watching the ill-received visitor,till he saw him go out through the gates of his park.
Then over Ambrose Powell's face came a shadow--the shadow of a fear.For he knew he had offended a Royal tyrant, who, though now weaker thanhe had been through the restraint of a Parliament, might still havestrength enough to tear him.
"My dear children," he said, as he joined them in the withdrawing-room,"the trouble I've been long anticipating has come at last. We will haveto leave Hollymead, or I must fortify and defend it."