The MS. in a Red Box
CHAPTER III
My good comrade, Dick Portington, was the first of our guests to arriveat Temple on the 28th of May, and he brought me as birthday gift a gunsuch as I had not before seen, the cock containing a flint, which, asit fell, struck sparks from the cover of the pan, and at the samemoment forced back the cover so that the sparks flew on the priming.The action was far quicker than that of the matchlock, and much surerthan the wheel-lock guns which I had hitherto handled, and I had greatpleasure in it, and a brace of pistols made after the same pattern.
"'Tis the rarest present, Dick," I said, "but you shame me. Anothergift! And I have never given you anything."
"Say nothing of that, man," answered he. "I am older than thou, andthe squire is free with his money. I have what I want for the asking.Besides, to-day you come to riches, and may spend and give as you like."
Dick's allusion was to an understanding between my father and me, thatwhen I came of age certain properties in Beltoft, which were part of mymother's dower, should be made over to me. I had freely spoken of thisto my friend, and in truth, looked forward eagerly to the enjoyment ofmeans of my own, for my father had allowed me less money than men ofhis rank were accustomed to allow their sons. He was no niggard inproviding me things suitable to our station, but I had never much moneyin my purse, so that I held aloof from companionship with other youngfellows except Dick, who knew my plight, and often listened to my talkof the brave doings which were to follow my possession of an estate ofsome ninety pounds a year. To-day we had scant opportunity forconversation, as our humbler neighbours came early, with full intent toenjoy merry pastimes and good cheer; nor were the gentry and farmerslate, since all were keenly expectant of news and advice from their"Solicitor." Ladies and gentlemen on horseback, a few ladies whopreferred dignity in a jolting coach to ease in the saddle, farmers'wives on pillion behind their husbands, labourers, marshmen, andfowlers, with their women-folk, afoot, made the spacious park a livelyscene. Our stables were soon filled, and many horses had to betethered in the paddock. By good luck, the day was cloudless, and thewind soft, almost still.
Our guests betook them to various sports until dinner-time. The greatbowling-green was crowded with jostling, laughing bowlers; the archeryground afforded amusement to many competitors, for our Islonians areskilful in the use of the long-bow and cross-bow; parties were gatheredfor cricket, balloon, quoits, nine-pins, and leaping the bar. Some ofthe lads and lasses began at once to trip it to fiddle and pipe andtabour. Many of the older folk were content to stand or sit and watcha set of morris dancers, or filled the booth where a company ofstrolling players performed a blood-curdling tragedy and aside-splitting farce well within the hour. A group surrounded BetBoswell, a gypsy lass, whom our Beltonians knew from the long staywhich her tribe had made with us, and more than one young farmer hadfallen over head and ears in love with her. She was a tall, lithecreature, boldly handsome, with that roguish look in her dark eyeswhich passes away with the coming of Love. To-day she told fortunes bythe palm and with the crystal. As Dick and I joined the group, themoonstruck gaping of some of the rustics proved that Bet was doing herbusiness skilfully.
"Here be young squire," said one. "Tell him his fortune."
The rest echoed the fellow, and falling in with their humour, I said--
"Come then, Bess. Let me hear my fate;" offering her sixpence.
"Not now," she answered, refusing the coin with a wave of her hand."Your destiny trembles in the balance to-day."
"How so, oracular sybil?" I asked, laughing, but a little impressed bythe gravity of her look and tone.
"Before you sleep, you will lose a fortune, and be offered another,"she said.
"How I can lose what I have not, I do not understand," I replied; "butof a certainty I shall take one, if it be offered me."
"If you are wise, you will," said Bess, and turned from me as having nomore to say.
At the instant, the ringing of a bell and blowing of a horn calledthose of our guests to dinner who were to take their repast under tentsand awnings in the park, and I joined my father to make the round ofthe tables, where huge joints of beef and mutton, piles of Trent salmonand larded capons, and the like substantial viands, were rapidlydisappearing, washed down with copious draughts of strong October, towhich were added for the yeomen farmers brandy, wine, mead, and aquavitae.
When we had seen that all were faring merrily, and had nodded andsmiled acknowledgment of the cheers for "the Solicitor," and for "theheir of Temple Belwood," we joined the company assembling in the hall,and thence with proper ceremony to the ancient dining-room. There thetalk ran on Vermuijden and his doings much more than on the rightfulhero of the day, and voices rose and tongues wagged faster and fasteras the men's glasses were replenished with wine of Burgundy, orBourdeaux, or Champaign, and the women sipped hock and Bacharach andsherris.
My left-hand neighbour at table was Mistress Emma Ryther, a buxom girl,with great ox-eyes that never changed. She was accounted one of thebeauties of the Isle, and indeed as a piece of flesh and blood she waspretty enough. I scarcely knew whether I liked or misliked her, forher manner to me seemed to betoken that she expected me to whistle, andwas ready to come. Perhaps there would have been no more than atoss-up between liking and misliking, since I had that conceit in myhead, if I had never seen the divine beauty which shines from the soul.Having seen that, Mistress Ryther was to me but a well-painted figurein porcelain. While she babbled nothings to me, I wondered that Icould ever have thought otherwise of her than I did to-day. Someperception of my state of mind she showed by saying tartly: "Your headis as full of the Dutch as everybody's."
When dessert was spread, to my astonishment, Mr. Ryther rose to proposethe toast of the day. He was not an old friend, or a person ofconsideration. Some dozen years ago he had been so lucky as to inheritunexpected wealth, and ever since he had devoted himself to increasinghis riches, chiefly by lending money on mortgage, and taking everylegal advantage of the necessitous borrower. He was a biggish fellow,with a loud voice and pompous manner, and a great hooked nose, which myfingers itched to pull for his impudence. My impatience grew as hewent on to speak, lauding my father's public spirit and generosity,taking a tone as if he were the equal of Thomas Vavasour. When hebegan to talk of me my blood boiled, for he enumerated my good pointsas though I had been a horse, and he had the selling of me. He woundup by saying that he looked forward to the festivities to come, whenthe heir of Temple Belwood should bring a beautiful and well-doweredbride to this ancient house. I could have hurled a decanter at thegreasy forehead, which he wiped with infinite complacency. I stammeredthrough as much as I could remember of the little speech which I hadconned for the occasion, saying as little as might be of the proposer.The ladies withdrew, and the real business of the day began. My fatherrose to give an account of his proceedings in London, which need not beset down here, as I have put it on record elsewhere. He ended bysaying: "The highest court of law in this country has given judgmentagainst Vermuijden, but he continues his illegal action. Persons nearto his Majesty have assured the Dutchman of royal protection, and dareto set the King's prerogative above the law. That assertion ofprerogative is baseless, and I confidently expect that it will be soonwithdrawn. Parliament is at this moment, as you know, taking steps toremove an injurious adviser from the position of authority which he hasshamelessly abused. On the removal of the Duke of Buckingham from thecounsels of his Majesty, there will doubtless be a change of policy onthe part of a nobleman, our neighbour, who has hitherto upheld theDutchmen in their invasion of our Isle, and the law will prevail. Wemust not forget that Vermuijden believes that he is in his right, northat he has paid a very large sum of money for his supposed rights inour soil. We must proceed with strict legality, or we shall putourselves in the wrong. Allow me to make a personal appeal to everygentleman in this room. I have given my time and, strength and meansfreely to your service, and I beg that my efforts may not be frustratedby resort t
o violence of any kind. Let us adhere to the lawful course,and we shall most assuredly be successful in the end."
As my father sat down there was some applause, and a few gentlemenshouted, "Long life to our Solicitor;" but murmurs were heard inseveral quarters, and Squire Portington, of Thorne, rose to speak.
"Gentlemen," said he, "law and order are all very well, but what aboutour property? A hundred acres of my best land is under water nowthrough the tomfoolery of these damned Dutchmen. If they go on,they'll drown me and my nearest neighbours out and out. Mighty smallconsolation it will be to us, if some fine day this Vermuijden has tobow to the law. That won't give us back our farms and our houses. TheLaw is on our side, but force has the upper hand of the Law. As forParliament making an end of Buckingham, for anything I can see, he isjust as likely to make an end of Parliament. Do you know that theDutchman swears he has full power to hang anybody who resists him, andhas set up a gallows at Sandtoft? It is a fact, gentlemen. We havetasted Prerogative in demand for money which Parliament refused tovote. Prerogative means----"
The gentlemen on either side of Squire Portington dragged him down tohis seat, but the squire shook himself free, and got on his legs again.
"My neighbours here are afraid that I shall be brought before theCouncil of the North for talking treason, and bring them into troublefor listening to it. I didn't suppose that there were any damned spiesand informers here. I was saying that the law can't do anything tosave us from ruin. So much the worse for the law. But I'm not goingto sit quiet while the Dutchmen drown my land and me. My motto is'Liberty and Property.' If the gentlemen here, or half of 'em, willjoin me, we'll send Vermuijden three days' notice to quit our land. Ofcourse, he won't take it, but that's his affair. After the three dayshave expired, we'll go with five hundred stout fellows, and drive thebeggars out, kill every man who resists, hang Vermuijden on his owngallows, and sweep the Isle clean of the invaders. That's my way. Wewill talk of law and order when we have made sure of our liberty andproperty."
All the young men present, and a number of their elders, rose to theirfeet, and shouted, "That's sense! Liberty and property! Three Cheersfor Squire Portington! Send the Dutchmen to the devil! HangVermuijden on his own gallows! There's Scripture for it. Hurrah!"
These and similar cries made a deafening hubbub. Filled with wine, andstirred by Portington's harangue, our guests forgot decorum entirely,and made such a tumult as encouraged the common sort to crowd about thedoorway, and add their voices to the cheers for "Liberty and Property"and the cry of "Down with the Dutch."
Conspicuous among the intruders was Boswell, the father of the girlabove mentioned, a notorious poacher, and worse. He had edged far intothe room and struck me as being all eyes and ears. I sprang to myfeet, and bade the rabble clear out, which they did pretty quickly. Myfather seized the opportunity afforded by the slight lull whichfollowed to dissuade his friends from violence; declaring that if therewas not good prospect of remedy by lawful means within three months, hehimself would lead in defence of our just and legal rights by thestrong hand.
The pledge was hailed with loud shouts of approval and the draining ofmany glasses in his honour; but there ensued a great buzz of talk,during which men left their seats to be within earshot of this or thatspeaker, so that the company broke up into separate knots, somelistening to the one they took for an oracle, others talking all atonce, and hearkening only to the sound of their own voices. There wasan end of all orderly counsel for that time.
Late in the evening, when the festivities were over, and the guestsdeparted, my father explained that the reason why he had not handed methe deeds of the Beltoft land was that he had been compelled tomortgage it, owing to his outlay in defence of the rights of the IsleCommoners. I answered that I thought it hard my little property shouldhave been chosen to bear the costs of litigation; some other portion ofthe estate might have borne them. Whereupon my father amazed andconfounded me by saying that more than half the lands of Temple Belwoodwere already mortgaged. For some time I was dumb with astonishment,and stood staring. At length I burst out--
"Why should our estate bear all the cost of these proceedings? Surelyevery Commoner ought to pay his share."
"Thou art somewhat hasty, Frank," my father replied, "to call TempleBelwood _our_ estate. If I chose to spend in defence of the rights ofthe Islonians, my son has no authority to call me to account."
"Is it your pleasure," I asked, "that I should go to the plough-tailto-morrow?"
"Don't talk like a fool, boy."
"I became a man to-day, sir."
"Discretion limps behind old Father Time, it seems."
I suppressed the easy retort, and my father continued--
"If you have not your father's public mind, I am sorry; but yourprivate interests are safe enough, and Temple Belwood will be yourswithout encumbrance on a single acre."
Again I was amazed and mute.
"Ryther is engaged to return the deeds to you on the day you wed hisdaughter."
Now I understood mysteries; Ryther's insolence at dinner, for one, andhis daughter's manner, for another. My father had squandered money ina business which was no more his than that of any gentleman in theIsle, assured that all damage to the estate would be repaired by thisabsurd covenant of marriage. The Vavasour patrimony was lost, and allthe ceremony and merrymaking of the day had been in honour of the heirof--Nothing.
The state of things was maddening and yet laughable, and laughter wouldhave its way. I shook with it.
"What in the world is there to laugh at?" shouted my father.
"God knows, I don't," I answered, still laughing.
It was my father's turn to be astonished. He gazed doubtfully at meuntil my fit was over. Then he said--
"You have taken too much wine. We will speak of this business whensleep has sobered you." And he went off to bed.
I was coward enough to be glad of the respite, foreseeing that myfather's grief and anger would be hard to bear, when he knew that Iwould wed no woman on earth but Anna Goel.