CHAPTER XVIII.

  RAVENSHAW'S SLEEP IS INTERRUPTED.

  "Captain, rally up your rotten regiment, and begone."--_A King and No King._

  Master Jerningham, having communicated his good hopes to Sir ClementErmsby on the deck of his ship, considered that, as the maid was notto leave London till nightfall, and, as he was now between London andthe Grange, he had ample time to reach his country-house and send awaythe captain ere she could be brought there by her escort. He thereforeresolved to proceed with leisure and order. And first, as he had longfasted, and as he had a night's business before him, he went ashore tohis accustomed tavern at Deptford, and had supper with Sir Clement in aroom where they were alone.

  "We shall take one of our own boats and four of our men," saidJerningham, "and row down to the old landing at the Grange. 'Tis but ashort walk thence to the house. You and two of the men would best waitwithout the house, whilst I go in and send away Ravenshaw. If he sawyou and so many men he might smell some extraordinary business, andhave the curiosity to set himself against my orders."

  "If he should do so, nevertheless," said Ermsby, "then, as you saidawhile ago--You may want our help in that."

  "Then I must e'en call you. But I shall try to have him without hisweapons."

  "What would Mistress Meg say to another ghost in the house?"

  "Hang her, mad wench! Ay, she would be howling of murder and blood. Iknow not--she might fly to my lord bishop with the news. Well, I cantie her up and lock her in a chamber, at the worst. Yet she is a verydevil. I think I'd best breed no more trouble at the last. I'll nothave the knave killed unless he cannot be got away otherwise."

  "An you send him away, will you leave some one in his place?"

  "Ay, to keep Meg quiet till we are safe at sea. I'll leave Meadows, andcharge him not to tell her of our sailing. He is a trusty fool."

  "But what will she say to this goldsmith's wench being housed overnightin the Grange?"

  "Why, I'll have a tale ready when we arrive: that I am saving the maidfrom a runaway marriage, to take back to her father; or that the maidis for you; or some such story."

  "Best say the maid is for me. Women who have gone that road are everready to push others into it."

  "Not always. But I shall contrive to make Meg tolerate the other'spresence for a few hours, e'en if I must do it with promises. I canoffer to find her a husband,--this Ravenshaw, an she like his looks,or another that may be bought. I think she has grown out of her sulks,and into the hope of rehabilitation, by this time. As for the Cheapsidemaid, first I will try wooing; she may be compliant of her own accord.But if she hold out, there's nothing for it but the sleeping potion.Gregory will fetch that with him; I bade him get it in Bucklersbury onhis way to Friday Street."

  "May it give her pleasant dreams!"

  "When she is fast asleep," continued Jerningham, "I'll leave Gregoryto watch her, and we'll come back to welcome my lord bishop in themorning. And to-morrow, when my lord has seen the last of us, and thetide is bearing us down the river, we need only put the ship to at theold landing, walk to the house, and carry her aboard. There will benone to see but Meg and old Jeremy, and they shall not know the ship isours, or that we are farther bound than Tilbury."

  Sir Clement's appetite, which had been less neglected of late, wassatisfied before Jerningham's, and the knight proposed that he shouldgo and get the boat in readiness while the other finished eating.Jerningham consented, naming the men who were to be taken from theship's crew upon the night's business.

  "I will join you very soon," said he, as Sir Clement left the room.

  Jerningham brought his supper to an end, and bade a drawer fetch thereckoning. Waiting for the boy's return, he flung himself on his backon a bench that stood against the wall. The knowledge that all wasprovided for, that his course was fully thought out, and that onlyaction lay before him, brought to his mind a restfulness it had notlately known. The effect of his heavy meal acted with this to snarehis senses; so long it was since sleep had overtaken him, he was noton guard against it. When the tavern lad came back with the score, thegentleman's eyes were closed, his breathing was slow and deep. Knowingby experience that sleeping gentlemen sometimes resented disturbance,the drawer went away more quietly than he had entered; MasterJerningham was a good customer, and might as well pay last as first.

  Sir Clement saw the boat ready, and then busied himself in the studyof maps and charts by candle-light in the cabin, pending Jerningham'sappearance. In his preoccupation, he lost thought of the night'saffair, in which Jerningham bore all the responsibility. He took noobservance of the increasing darkness outside, until at last he becamewonderingly sensible of Jerningham's delay. Hastening ashore, he foundthe sleeper in the tavern.

  "Good God!" cried Jerningham, springing up at his friend's call;"what's the hour? How long have I slept? Death! is all lost?"

  "Nay, there is time, if we bestir ourselves."

  "Then we must fly. My plans are all undone if she be there before Isend away that captain."

  Learning what o'clock it was, Jerningham found he had yet time to writea short pretended letter, to serve as pretext for Ravenshaw's journey.This done, he hastened to the boat.

  Not until he was being rowed past Blackwall, did it occur to him that,in the haste of departure, he had not looked to the thorough arming ofthe party, and that there was not a firearm with the whole company.

  "Oh, pish! there is steel enough among us to cut eight captains'throats with a clean blade apiece, an it comes to throat-cutting," saidErmsby.

  "'Twould come to that soon enough, but for the storm Meg would raise.Plague take her! would I had the heart to quiet her the sure way! ButI cannot steel myself to that. I must be led by circumstance; 'tis forthis captain's doings to say whether his throat need be cut. He had nopistol when he left me. As for his sword and dagger"--here Jerninghamraised his voice and called to one of the men rowing: "Goodcole, thouhast some skill in sleights, and cutting purses, and the like, I haveheard."

  "Ay, sir," was the confident reply. "In my time I have been called theknave with the invisible fingers. My friends used to say I could filcha man's shirt off his back while he stood talking to me in the street."

  "Poh!" growled another of the men; "I much doubt whether you can pick apocket."

  "Here's a handful of testers I picked from yours," said Goodcole,resting his oar for a moment that he might return his comrade the coins.

  There was a brief stoppage from rowing while the other men hastilyinvestigated the condition of their own pockets.

  "Excellent Goodcole!" quoth Sir Clement Ermsby. "Thou art a proficientin a most delicate craft."

  "Thou couldst take away a man's sword and dagger ere he knew it,belike," said Jerningham.

  "I could take away his teeth, or the thoughts in the centre of hishead," promptly answered Goodcole.

  "Perchance I shall put thee to the test by and by," said Jerningham.

  In good time they found the landing with their lights, made the boatfast, and hastened through the darkness to the country-house. The gateof the courtyard was not fastened. Jerningham first led the way to asmall penthouse in one corner of the yard, where he desired that SirClement and two of the men should remain until he saw how the captaintook the new commands.

  "And e'en when the maid is brought," he added, with a suddenafterthought, "best you be not seen at the first; wait till I trywhether she is to be won softly. If she saw you she might remember thatnight, and be thrown into greater fear and opposition. I'll call when Ihave need of you."

  He then went with Meadows and Goodcole to the door within the porch;finding it made fast inside, he gave two rapid double knocks, then twosingle ones. Soon a tiny wicket opened behind a little grating in thedoor. Jerningham held a lantern close to his face so that he might bequickly recognised. The door opened, and Jerningham found Mistress Megalone in the hall, where the light of a single candle struggled withthe darkness. The lantern and torch brought in by the newcomers were awe
lcome reinforcement. Jerningham set the lantern on the chimney shelf,and had the torch thrust into a sconce on the wall.

  "Did the new steward come?" he asked.

  "The new steward?" quoth Meg, with faint derision at the title. "Yes;am I not still here?"

  "Where is he?" asked the master, ignoring the allusion to her threat.

  "In his chamber. He arrived, ate, drank, went thither; and I have notseen him since."

  A sudden light came into Jerningham's eyes. "Ten to one he sleeps. Hehad a laborious day of it ere he came hither. What weapons had he whenhe came?"

  "Rapier and dagger," answered Meg, looking surprised at the question.

  "'Twere a good jest now," said Jerningham, pretending amusement, "totake them from him in his sleep, then come away and send Jeremy to wakehim."

  "Is he the kind of man to see the mirth of that jest?" inquired Meg,with little interest.

  "We shall see if he be. Goodcole, a chance to prove your mettle.Where's Jeremy? Pray send him to me, mistress, and I'll thank you."

  While Meg was at the kitchen door calling the old man-servant,Jerningham spoke quietly to Goodcole. Jeremy appeared, blinking andbowing; as he passed Meg, he chuckled, and said, in undertone, "Ahusband mends all, sooth!" Master Jerningham, ascertaining from Megwhat chamber the captain lay in, bade the old man show Goodcole theway. The pair took a lantern, of which Goodcole concealed all but asmall part in his jerkin.

  During the absence of the two, Jerningham directed Meg's attention toMeadows: "This is the man shall abide here for a time; I must sendt'other on business that bears no delay,--him that lies up-stairs, Imean. 'Tis partly for that reason I have come here. And partly 'tisthat I may, for an hour or so, play the host to a visitor that mustperforce lodge here to-night,--a young woman."

  He paused; but Meg merely paid attention to him with eyes and ears, anddisplayed no emotion.

  "She is daughter to a merchant I much esteem in London; she has been insome manner bewitched, or constrained, or seduced, to fly from her hometo this neighbourhood with an unthrift knave. By chance the plot cameto my ears, and for her father's sake, and her honour's, I have causedher to be stayed in her flight and fetched hither. To-morrow I willcome and put her aboard a vessel that shall carry her to Tilbury, whereher father hath gone upon his affairs. If it fall to you to comfort orserve her while she is here, take heed you talk nothing of the matter,for all she may say to you. And not a word of this before CaptainRavenshaw when he comes down."

  Whatever were Meg's thoughts, she kept them to herself. Though shemight fear ghosts and witches, she was not to be thrown out ofcomposure by surprises and visits, even if they came thick in a fewhours, after months of the still and solitary life that was the rule atthe Grange.

  Goodcole and Jeremy returned, the former carrying the rapier and daggerwith a nonchalant, even contemptuous, air, as if his task had beentoo easy. Jerningham smiled approval; he took the weapons, thrust thedagger in his girdle, and laid the rapier behind him on the table, ashis own scabbard was, of course, occupied. He then sent Jeremy backwith a candle to summon the captain down to the hall.

  When the captain came, it was he that held the candle; while with onehand he dragged Jeremy by the collar.

  "Hell and furies!" he roared; "what nest of rogues, what den ofthieves, what--what--" He paused, and stared open-mouthed atJerningham, who was standing with folded arms and a look of amusement.

  "How now, captain? What is ill with you?"

  "My weapons, sir--my rapier, my dagger--angled, filched, stolen in mysleep! God's death, is this the kind of a house you keep here?--Ah, youhave them, I see."

  But Jerningham pleasantly raised his hand, so that the captain in merecourtesy stopped in the midst of a stride forward, and waited for theother's words.

  "A slight piece of mirth, captain, and a lesson for you, too. Cominghither upon a sudden business, and learning you were so sound asleeper, I saw my chance of disarming you, and showing you what dangera man may be in asleep."

  "Why, sooth, I am not wont to sleep so sound," said Ravenshaw, a littleshamefacedly; "but, being come to this quiet and lone place, I allowedmyself to slide, as one might say, and--so 'twas. But to take myweapons from me awake, that were a different business, sir, I think Imay say."

  "All the world knows that, captain."

  "By your leave, sir, I'll have them back again, I feel awkward without'em."

  "A mere moment, I pray you, captain," said Jerningham, with a smile ofharmless raillery. "I would have you hear first the business I havecome hither so late to send you upon. As it is so sudden a matter,and hath some discomfort in it, you might take it in choler; and then'twere best you had no steel to your hand."

  Ravenshaw thought that his master's wit was of a very childish quality;but said, merely, as he summoned patience:

  "What is the business?"

  "Oh, a slight, simple matter in itself, but needing absolute surenessin the doing, and instant speed in the starting. This letter is to becarried to Dover, to him that is named upon it, and an answer broughtto me at Winchester House. That is all."

  "Oh, pish! a slight, paltry journey; nothing to make me choleric. Withthe horse I rode to-day, I'll go and come in four days."

  Which was very good time upon the horses and roads of that period.

  "But there's the pinch," quoth Jerningham, "I must have the answerMonday morning ere the Exchange opens. You must know I take agentleman's part in a merchant's venture or so, and if certain cargoesnow due at Dover--In short, you must ride forth immediately, as soon ashorse can be saddled."

  Ravenshaw, remembering his promise to pay Cutting Tom at the parson'son the morrow noon, slowly shook his head.

  "How now, captain? Would you shirk at the outset? Will you becontinually failing me? This is no such matter as the other, man."

  "I do not shirk; but I will not start to-night. I will set forthto-morrow, and make what speed man and beast can."

  "Look you, captain; my commands are that you set forth now. If youchoose to throw yourself out upon the world again--"

  Jerningham paused. Now, in truth, Ravenshaw had felt he could be verycomfortable for a time on this quiet estate; his body and his wits,both somewhat overtaxed in the struggle for existence he had so longmaintained, plead for repose. He sighed, and fell back upon obviousobjections, not aware that Jerningham already knew of his engagementfor the morrow with Cutting Tom.

  "Why, bethink you, the darkness--" he blundered.

  "A man may go a steady pace by lantern-light. I've ridden many a mileso," said Jerningham.

  "But how is a man to keep the right road, with none awake to tell him?"

  "You must know the way to the highroad, for you came over it to-day;and you must know the highroad as far as to Canterbury, for you told meso when I directed you to this place. It will be daylight long beforeyou come to Canterbury."

  The captain shook his head again.

  Jerningham felt that time was passing rapidly. "If you are fordisobedience, you are no longer for my service," he said. "Takeyourself from my house and my land forthwith."

  Ravenshaw laughed; and stood motionless, which was what Jerninghamwished, in case the captain was determined against an immediate startfor Dover, for it would not do to have him free in the neighbourhood,perchance to learn of the treachery concerning the maid in time togive trouble. It had occurred to Jerningham that a threatening stepon the captain's part, by affording excuse for a deed of blood, wouldlessen its horror and create in Meg, with less fear of retribution uponthe house, less mood for turning accuser. So he resumed, with studiedoffensiveness of tone:

  "Begone from my house, I bid you!" With which, he drew the captain'sdagger as if he forgot it was not his own.

  Jerningham's back was to the table; Ravenshaw faced him, three or fourpaces away; by the front door stood Meadows, with a long knife in hisgirdle; Goodcole, before the fireplace, was similarly armed. Meg andJeremy, wondering spectators, were near the kitchen door. Ravenshawnoted all
this in a single glance right and left; noted in the looks ofthe two men the habit of instant readiness to support their master.

  "Pray, consider the hour," said Ravenshaw, feeling it was a time fortemporising.

  "'Tis for you to consider; I command," said Jerningham, taking thecaptain's sword from the table behind him.

  "You should give me my weapons before you bid me depart," said thecaptain, in as light a tone as he could assume.

  "When you are gone, I will throw them after you."

  Ravenshaw dashed forward with a growl; but stopped short in time, withthe point of his own sword at his breast. He had an impulse to graspthe blade; but he knew, if he were quick enough for that, there was yetthe dagger to be reckoned with, besides the two men, who drew theirknives at that moment. Jerningham seemed to brace himself for a spring;he held the captain's sword and dagger as in sockets of iron; a darkgleam shone in his eyes. Ravenshaw knew the look; time and again he hadworn it himself; he knew also when, as player in a game, he was withina move of being checkmated.

  "Well," quoth he, with a grin of resignation, "you hold all the goodcards. I will carry your letter." He suddenly bethought him of a friendor two in Rochester, which he would pass through early in the morningif he made the journey, by whom he might send Cutting Tom's money tothe parson. Contemplating the life of ease he had promised himselfin his new service, he was not sorry a good pretext had occurred forwithdrawing his refusal.

  "You will set out immediately?" asked Jerningham.

  "The sooner the better, now."

  Jerningham sent the old man out with a lantern to saddle thecaptain's horse and bring it to the door. He then handed the letterto the captain, and gave particular instructions, such as would benecessary in a genuine errand. Jeremy reappeared, at the front door,and announced that the horse was ready. Jerningham surrendered thecaptain's rapier and dagger with grace, and gave him money for thejourney. Ravenshaw then examined the lantern which Jeremy brought him,waved a farewell to Jerningham and Meg, and strode to the door.

  Jerningham breathed softly, lest even a sigh of satisfaction mightbetray his sense of triumph. "She is mine!" sang his heart.

  The door, left slightly ajar by the old man, opened wide as if bya will of its own, just as the captain was about to grasp it. Awhite-bearded, ruddy-faced man, dressed in rags and upheld by one legand a crutch, stood grinning at the threshold.

  "God save your worship!" said he to the captain. "We come late; butfirst our affairs hindered us, and then we mistook the way. By goodchance, we find you awake; else had we passed the night under somepenthouse or such, hereabouts, and come to drink your health in themorning."

  Ravenshaw having mechanically stepped back, the old beggar hobbledin, followed by several other maimed ragamuffins, with whom came thetwo women Ravenshaw had seen in the afternoon, and a pair of handsomefrowsy young hussies who had not appeared in the road. The leglessdwarf still rode upon a comrade's shoulders. As the motley gangtrooped in, there was a great clatter and thud of crutches, woodenlegs, and staves.

  "God's death! who are these?" cried Jerningham, in petulantastonishment.

  "Some poor friends of mine I met on the way hither," said Ravenshaw,apologetically. "I asked them to sup with me here. I had well-nighforgot."

  "Sup with you! By what right--well, no matter for that. Where did youthink to find provender for all those mouths?"

  "I was to find drink only; they were to find meat."

  "Ay," said the chief beggar, "chickens; and here they be, young andplump." He thrust his hand into a sack another fellow carried, anddrew out a cold roast pullet. The captain gazed at this specimen withadmiring eyes, and unconsciously licked his lips.

  "By your leave," said he to Jerningham, "I'll tarry but a half-hour toplay the host to my invited guests; and then away. I can make up thetime; a half-hour, more or less--"

  "'Tis not to be thought of!" cried Jerningham. "There has been too muchtime lost already."

  "Nay, I'll make it up, I tell you. I am bound to these people by myinvitation; they have come far out of their way."

  "Oh, as for that, they need not go away thirsty. Jeremy, takethese--good people--to the kitchen, and broach a cask." MasterJerningham, in his desire for Ravenshaw's departure, could forcehimself to any concession; he considered that, left to themselves,these beggars would be no obstacle to his design; they could be kept attheir ale in the kitchen.

  "Why, to tell the truth," interposed the captain, "'tis not so muchtheir thirst troubles me; 'tis my hunger." And he leaned a littletoward the fowl, sniffing, and feasting on it with his eyes.

  "Take it with you, man, and eat as you ride," said Jerningham, stillrestraining his impatience.

  "Why, that's fair enough," replied Ravenshaw. "I'll just drink one cupwith these my guests, and then leave 'em to your hospitality." Withoutmore ado, he walked to the kitchen door, where Jeremy was standing,and motioned the beggars to follow. They filed into the kitchen, sevenmen and four women, not a whole body in the gang save the two robustwenches.

  "A bare minute or so, sir," said Ravenshaw to Jerningham, and wentafter them, taking the lantern with him. Soon there came from thekitchen the noise of loosened tongues chattering in the gibberish ofthe mendicant profession.

  Master Jerningham, knowing that opposition would only cause furtherdelay, controlled himself as best he could, and waited in silence,pacing the hall, while the captain had his humour. Meg, withhousewifely instinct, betook herself to the kitchen to keep an eye onmatters there. Presently the captain reappeared, with a pullet in onehand, his lantern in the other, Meg having meanwhile lighted candles inthe kitchen.

  "THERE ... WAS THE MAID OF CHEAPSIDE, PALE ANDBEWILDERED."]

  "And now to horse!" cried he, closing the kitchen door after him.

  "And God save us from any more delays!" said Jerningham, with apretence of jocularity.

  "So say I," quoth Ravenshaw, stalking forward.

  In the centre of the hall he stopped, with a cry of astonishment, whichmade Jerningham turn swiftly toward the open front door.

  There in the porch, which was suddenly lighted up with rays of torchand lantern, was the maid of Cheapside, pale and bewildered, held oneither side by Cutting Tom and one of his comrades.