The Red Tavern
CHAPTER III
OF A NIGHT IN THE RED TAVERN
As Sir Richard glanced above the jutting cornice he noted that theclouds had turned to a murky green. Ragged tentacles were trailingominously earthward as the storm raged down upon the sea. Appreciatingthe need of immediate shelter, and having as yet heard no answeringsounds from within, he sent another fusillade of blows against the door.
Almost upon the instant there followed a loud clanking of iron chainsand bolts. Then, as the door swung slowly inward, there stood revealedwithin the open space a singularly odd and striking figure of a man. Soextraordinarily tall was he that he was obliged to stoop to make wayfor his head beneath the lintel as he set his foot upon the step. Hevouchsafed no word of welcome or good cheer, but stood silent, waitingfor the traveler to speak.
With his sparse hair streaming in the augmenting wind, his keen eyesburning within the shadow of a thicket of brows; his veritable beakof a nose--vying with that of the crudely painted vulture above hishead--and his thin, bloodless lips, he appealed to the young knightlike anything but a picture of a hospitable inn-keeper. It beinghabitual to associate with these highway entertainers a certainrotundity of figure and jollity of demeanor. The one confronting SirRichard was attenuated to the last degree, though in despite of thisthe breadth of his wrist, and the clutch of his bony fingers upon thelatch, betrayed his possession of a more than usual measure of physicalstrength.
"Hast thou peace and provender for a wayfaring knight and horse?" ourastonished pilgrim made out to inquire.
Even then the landlord did not trouble himself to speak. Bowing assent,however, he signed Sir Richard to dismount and enter. As he complied,another man, with features very much resembling the first, but whosefigure was grossly misshapen, squat, hunchbacked, and long-armed,emerged from the obscurity of the room and led away his horse. Thismove was not accomplished without a considerable effort upon thehunchback's part, for the spirited animal pricked up its ears, champedits bit, and hung back on the bridle at sight of the apparition tuggingat the other end.
It was not without an inward sense of fear that the young knight movedtoward the glowing blaze, after he had seen his horse safely led,though stubbornly contesting every inch of the way, around the cornerof the building. As he approached the chimney-side, a huge wolfhoundlying upon the hearth half rose upon its haunches.
In the bright light of the fire Sir Richard could see the stiff, wirygray hairs elevating along its spine, and the gleaming of white fangsas it curled its lips from off them and emitted a savage growl.
"Crouch, Demon!" commanded the inn-keeper in a voice which, though low,seemed by far more menacing than the savage grumble of the beast.
The hound instantly obeyed, resuming its recumbent attitude andregarding the intruder furtively the while out of the tail of itsyellow eyes.
By now the wind had risen to the strength of a hurricane; whining andshrieking dismally, it was dashing the rain with tremendous violenceagainst the northern and eastern walls of the tavern. With an inwardacknowledgment of his indebtedness to a kind providence for having seta haven of refuge of any description along the highway, the travelertook his place in a deep-seated bench beside the fire, unloosed thefastenings of his helm and removed his gauntlets. He made as if tounlock his greaves, but desisted upon a vivid recollection of the sharpfangs of the wolfhound.
"By the rood, my good man, but how it doth blow," said he, rubbing hisbenumbed hands in front of the warm and cheery blaze. "A stoup of redwine or runlet of canary would scarce come amiss upon such a night, i'truth."
With his foot touching the muzzle of the dog, the inn-keeper had takenhis station before the fire; and, whilst the lower portion of his tallbody was bathed in its ruddy glare, his head towered among the shadowybeams above. By the dim semi-light that barely laid itself against hispallid cheek, Sir Richard could see that his host was measuring him uppoint by point; and in a manner so insolently intent that he becamepossessed of a mad itching to attempt a chastisement of his tormentor.But two words, and these spoken to the hound, had the landlord utteredsince the young knight had dismounted before the door.
"Well!" exclaimed our pilgrim, rapping impatiently upon the tablebefore him, "an thou hast finished with thy inventorying, man; bring ona stoup of wine. And be good enough to see to it, sir, that the drinkbe advance guard to a bit of supper."
Thereupon the inn-keeper bent the incensed Sir Richard a bow that LordCardinal Bourchier himself might properly have envied.
"Saidst thou not something, sir knight," he returned in the smoothestof tones, "of a runlet of canary?"
His manner was faultlessly deferential, but the modulations ofhis voice conveyed a world of ironical badinage that was wellnighintolerable. The young knight was tired, lonely, and, if the truthbe said, half fearful; and for these reasons proved no match at allfor the extraordinary tavern-keeper at that soft game. Losing for themoment all control of his temper, he sprang petulantly to his feet andrapped angrily upon the wooden bench with the scabbard of his sword.
"Devil fly away with the canary, sirrah!" he retorted, threateningly."I tell thee now, it were the better suited to thy health that thoushouldst do my bidding, man."
"This tavern, good my knight," said the inn-keeper, apparently not inthe least ruffled, and wholly ignoring his guest's display of anger,"boasts but a meager fare. Plain venison, I fear me much, must needspass muster with thy dainty palate in lieu of larks and pigeons."
A nature prone to sudden disarrangement of poise is usually amenableto swift reasoning and control. By this time, Sir Richard, repentingof his burst of passion and appreciating the imbecility of a resortto violence, had determined in his mind to do his utmost to meet theinn-keeper upon his own ground. He arose, thereupon, and swept towardmine host his most profound curtesy.
"Venison from thy cupboard," said he, smiling in a good humor that wasnot altogether assumed, "would stand substitute for even Karum-pie."
With a grim chuckle the inn-keeper then took himself off. The hunchbackreturned presently bearing upon a broad platter a warmed over venisonpasty and a stoup of wine; which, upon tasting, Sir Richard found tobe of a most excellent vintage. He was disappointed in one particular,however; for, from the moment of the landlord's exit from the room,the young knight had entertained the hope that his supper might beserved through the offices of a comely maid. In that event, as was thehabit of the times, he would have enjoyed her companionship through thehour of eating. He could accordingly scarcely conceal his vexation andchagrin upon beholding the lugubrious hunchback.
"The Fates defend us!" he exclaimed beneath his breath. "Merely to lookat the fellow doth steal away mine hunger."
Well within the zone of pleasing warmth of the fire, and with the notuntuneful beating of the wind and sleet against the hollow clapboardssinging in his ears, Sir Richard, after he had partaken of his supper,remained beside the table, his elbows resting upon its top, his headreclining against his hand. A delightful drowsiness was stealing overhim, causing his head to nod lower and lower. Then, with a relaxationof every muscle of his body, he fell forward into a deep sleep.
The air of absolute confidence with which the inn-keeper presentlyentered the room; the deliberate manner in which he went aboutunfastening and intruding his hand within the traveler's wallet seemedadequately to indicate that the entire circumstance had grown out ofa well meditated plan of action. As he withdrew King Henry's warrantand clapped his eyes upon the great red seal his eyebrows went up intoken of astonishment. With extreme deliberation he broke the seal andproceeded to acquaint himself with its purport.
"'Tis a passing strange and untoward business, this," he muttered,after having read and read again the contents of the singular document."Aye, a passing strange business. Is it but an idle frolic of a king?some cruel wager, conceived in wanton jest? Certes, and this youthwere an enemy to the throne, his fair head, ere this, had fallen besidethe tower block. I would that we could attach men as stanch, devotedand incorruptib
le to our great cause. But now, since the young princeis dead, what cause have we?" Folding carefully the parchment, hevented a deep sigh. "The labor of these seven years is gone for naught.Aye, for naught. And the great army that is bivouaced here to-night inScotland is like unto an avenging Juggernaut with none to guide itscourse. A beast of prey bereft of a head wherewith to devour its enemy."
Concluding his meditations, the inn-keeper, moving toward the fire,took up a blazing splinter and addressed himself to the task of mendingthe broken seal. Having accomplished this to his apparent satisfaction,he returned the parchment whence it had been taken, seated himselfbeside the table opposite to the sleeping young knight and resumed thethread of his gloomy thoughts.
"'Tis passing strange that I--I, James Tyrrell--wearing the stigma of amurderer, expatriate and outlawed from my country, should feel towardthis comely youth a sentiment akin to pity. Even would I make attemptto save him, and I could. But, I fear me, 'tis impossible. The verynature of his errand furnishes such proof of his stubborn integritythat 'twere but folly to make trial of dissuading him from going on.An I had awakened him to display the violated parchment, he would havehad at me with his sword for an arrant traitor. Even as he bent me thatpretty bow, I could see the fighting-man in his gray eye. An I causedhim to be trussed up as he sleeps to hold it before his conscious eyes,he would dub me liar and base imitator of King Henry's signature to myvery teeth. Reluctant though I am thus to do, I must perforce allow himto fare away upon his pilgrimage to death."
With that Tyrrell arose, leaning, for a brief instant, upon the tableabove the sleeping knight. Upon the instant that he did so his mannerunderwent a marked transformation from passive contemplation to thatof intent and earnest scrutiny. Bending his eyes upon the point wherethe young man's neck escaped from his steel shoulder-guards, he stoodfor some time regarding two small and blood-red moles, which werecuriously joined together by a slender filament of raised flesh. Inany other but the recumbent position that the sleeping man's head hadnaturally assumed, the birth-mark would have been hidden from viewbeneath the masses of golden-brown hair growing in a profusion ofringlets behind his delicately modeled ears.
Then: "'Tis a glorious dispensation of Divine Providence," declaredTyrrell solemnly, straightening to his full height and upraising hisright hand, whilst his left remained upon the unconscious knight'sshoulder. "And we thank thee, merciful God, for thy kindness in thussending another to take the place of one whom thou didst see fit totake away."
Thereupon, with many a halt, and many a backward glance, he stolequietly from the room.
His advent into another, wherein four armed men were amusing themselvesover a game of cards and conversing together in guarded undertones, wasdramatic in the extreme.
He took his stand in the center of the floor, the flare of a singletorch speeding waves of light and shadow along his tall figure.
"Noble gentles," said he, "fellow conspirators: Know ye all that ajust God hath this night deigned to smile upon our cause. That evennow, in the room without, steeped in sweet slumber 'neath the influenceof one of Friar Diomed's harmless potions, there is a fit and propercandidate for a throne in which now sits a base usurper."
"Ay--marry, is this true, eh? Well, he is a good enough looking youngfellow. But, 'tis no more than fair that the traveler should wellrequite us for thus depriving us of the comforts of a cheery room--eh!"muttered a bearded warrior, who, because of a conspicuous absence ofstools or chairs, was obliged to take what ease he could upon thefloor. "I would that friend Zenas might fetch bench or stool," headded, "so that I might listen to thy tale in seemly comfort--eh!"
"Have done with thy grumblings, de Claverlok," spoke up another memberof the quartet. "Pray, Sir James, keep not longer from us the identityof this God-given substitute. We are all ears to hear."
"Ay, so must we be," de Claverlok interrupted. "But one great ear, for'tis from a great height we must listen--eh!"
"First," resumed Tyrrell, unheedful of the interruption, "I would hearthy separate oaths registered that no hint shall escape thee of thatwhich I am about to tell. This oath of secrecy, noble gentlemen, dothmost of all include the solitary traveler now asleep in the outerroom. Until such time as I shall give thee warrant, him must we keepin ignorance of our purpose. It is my firm resolve to bring him withinview of our great armed force, before laying bare our plans. Zenas, mygood brother," Sir James pursued, turning to the dwarf, "do thou, fora time, stand sentinel above our honorable guest. I charge thee, guardhim zealously from harm till I am ready to join thee."
After Zenas had closed the door behind his retreating figure, theinn-keeper, turning toward the three men remaining, divulged to them atgreat length and with fine regard to details our traveler's true nameand titles, as well as the nature of his errand to Douglas.
"My good wife, gentles," he said, concluding the explanation of thesource of his knowledge, "was nurse and godmother to the sucklinginfant. Full oft did we, in secret, discuss the significance of thesemarks that I have but this moment again looked upon. And, now, FriarDiomed," he said, addressing himself to the churchman, "art thouskilled enough in the assembling of herb and root to prepare me asleeping potion that for three days or more will not lose its hold uponthe senses?"
"Aye--that can I," replied the monk cheerfully. "An you but set itto the nostrils thrice in the day 'twill sleep a man safely the weekthrough."
"Then do thou have it ready betwixt this hour and midnight. DeClaverlok, do thou, with all dispatch, ride to our nearest encampment.Bring back with thee a dozen mounted men and a covered litter. Whilstawaiting Sir Lionel's speedy return, we will give our time to thefurther discussion of plans and expedients."
By now the storm had abated. The wind, no longer a shrieking tornado,had died away to a plaintive sighing about the eaves. The rain hadentirely ceased, and in the dead solitude of the night the hoofbeatsof de Claverlok's charger, as he galloped away upon his errand, wereplainly audible to those within the tavern; to all saving Sir Richard,who, still sleeping beside the fire, was all unconscious of an eye,a patient, gleaming, malevolent eye, which remained fixed upon theinterior through a narrow window set high in the eastern wall of theroom.