CHAPTER VIII
The task of answering the hundred and one questions of our rescuersfell upon Mistress Goel, for I could not speak distinctly, my cheek andlips being so swollen. Two of my friends hoisted me upon theirshoulders, in spite of my growling resistance, while other two made "achair" for her with their arms and sticks, and we were carried withshouting to the vicarage, terrifying the good folk there no little bythe noise. When my aunt saw Mistress Goel's blood-stained face and mypuffed cheek, she fell to laughing and crying in a breath, and criedout that I was the most reckless fellow in the world, and not to betrusted with the care of a lady. The doctor clasped his daughter tohis breast, and then held her off to examine her hurt, and turned toglare at me fiercely, as if I had done the mischief. Oddly enough itwas the vicar who called for sponge and water, bandages, plaister, andthe like; recommended the doctor to lose no time in attending to ourwounds; imposed silence on the dozen who were babbling all at once,and, in short, put us into order.
Luke told how he had followed us, being in some fear that we might beattacked, but he had been astonished by the number of the crowd, whichhad gathered so quickly, and appeared to be under the direction of aman, who was a stranger to him. He saw us take refuge in the old mill,and then thought it better to call a party to our aid than to comesingle-handed. Accordingly, he had set off to give the alarm to theyoung fellows who had worked with us on the day after the flood, and,by great good luck, found the chief constable of the wapentake atsupper in one of the houses at which he called. The rest of the storymay be understood without the tedium of further words by me. DuringLuke's recital, Doctor Goel had attended to his daughter's hurt, andnow gave me his care. My cut in the shoulder he pronouncedunimportant, but shook his head over the injury to my jaw. At present,he could do little but bind a wet rag about my face, and give me a washfor the mouth, with a caution to swallow none of it. Meanwhile, myfriends, on Mistress Goel's report, were making me out to be a hero,and there I sat with a swelled face, rolling a liquid in my mouth whichmade me wince, and unable to say a word. It struck me as so queer afix for a hero to be in that I laughed, spurting out some of thedoctor's stuff, and gulping some of it down, but the coughing fit andthe pain which followed effectually cured me of inclination to furtherlaughter.
The chief constable deemed it advisable to set a watch over thevicarage for the night, himself remaining in command.
"There is no telling to what lengths the rabble may go, when they havegot suspicion of witchcraft into their heads," said he; "and, in myjudgment, it would be wise for Doctor and Mistress Goel to take shelteramong their own people at Sandtoft as soon as may be."
We were not disturbed during the night, and that happened on the morrowwhich, for a time at least, put our affairs into the shade. Wereceived a visit from a Royal Commissioner, who caused publicproclamation, with beat of drum, that all well-disposed persons andgood subjects were to wait on him in the course of the next three daysin the Court-room at the White Hart, where the Manor Court was usuallyheld, there to prove their loyalty to the throne by loans,benevolences, free gifts of money, and tender of service to hisMajesty. This personage appeared at the vicarage early in the day,attended by a file of musketeers, I happened to be with the vicar in aroom where he transacted such parish business as he could not depute tomy aunt, when a pot-bellied man swaggered in, with what he meant for anair of dignity, but which in reality was a consciousness of themusketeers outside. After curt salutation, he took a seat, and openedby saying--
"You received instructions from the archbishop to preach to your flockon the duty of contributing to the royal exchequer, so preparing themfor my visit. You thought it sufficient to read the letter from thepulpit. Explain your disobedience."
Something of the old Adam still lived in the clergyman, and flashedfrom his eyes.
"By what authority do you----" he began.
But the other broke out--
"Authority! authority, quotha! Authority enough to send a bishop tojail, if he gave me occasion."
At this point I did an exceedingly prudent action. The commissionerheld his neck awry, and my hands itched to give it a twist right round,so I walked out of the room and a temptation which might become toostrong for me. From prudence to policy is but one step. The nextthing I did was to send Luke out to the musketeers with strong ale,bidding him stay to learn how they liked the brew, and anything elsethey chose to tell him. They told him a good deal. The commissionerhad a list of the gentry and farmers in the neighbourhood, and againsteach name the amount to be demanded. He had another list of poorerfolk, including the names of young men who might be impressed forservice in the army or navy, unless they, or their relatives, wereready to buy a discharge. There did not appear to be any limit to thepowers of this bashaw. Before his entry into the Isle he had sentseveral gentlemen to prison for refusing to pay his demand in full.Some reputed misers of low degree, who had pleaded poverty, he had tiedup by the thumbs. Incredible sums had been extorted from poor oldwomen by threatening to take away their sons.
Fellows who had been "insolent" to his Majesty's representative, hadbeen shipped off to the plantations. The corporal had favoured Lukewith the opinion that the King would get so much money by thiscollection as to put him above the need to ask Parliament for anothershilling.
The pot-bellied man left the vicarage soon after I received thisaccount, taking with him fifty pounds, and the vicar retired to hisstudy, perhaps for prayer.
In the course of the morning Mr. Butharwick came over to see me,bringing a summons from the commissioner, requiring my father'sattendance at the White Hart, so about one o'clock I joined the companyassembled there. The commissioner, Tunstall by name, as we learnedfrom the reading of his warrant under the Great Seal, which he allowedsome of the gentlemen to inspect, sat at a table, with a scribe on hisleft hand, four or five of his musketeers standing behind him. Therewere seats for the men of rank and condition, but two-thirds of thefloor were filled by a standing crowd. After the reading of thewarrant, Tunstall made a long pompous speech, setting forth thenecessities of the King, the duty of his subjects, and the troublecaused in the realm by factious and treasonable persons, who had abusedtheir privileges and his Majesty's leniency by contriving to delay thevoting of supplies, urgently required for the defence of the kingdom,and the dignity of the Crown. The short of it was the king wantedmoney badly, and we were to find it, or the consequences would bedisagreeable. The commissioner looked at his papers, and then saidthat the first name on his list was that of George Stovin of Totlets,assessed at five hundred pounds. Squire Stovin rose, and spoke--
"It is not for me to judge of his Majesty's requirements, or to give anopinion as to the propriety of this unwonted way of meeting them, butonly to say that the demand made on the gentry and farmers ofCrowle--and on the gentry and farmers of Axholme generally--is to thelast degree ill-timed. Hundreds of acres in various parts of the Isle,which last year bore heavy crops, are reduced to swamp by the action offoreign invaders, who are under his Majesty's protection. In this partof the Isle, many of us have been brought within a little of beggary.I myself have had the cottages in which my labourers lived swept away,and most of my barns and outbuildings. Scores of my sheep have beendrowned--my crops are lost. It is monstrous to ask me to give money tothe King. I want compensation from the King."
There followed a loud rumble of assent to Squire Stovin's speech. Assoon as it ceased, the commissioner gave some order in a low voice tothe corporal, and then said--
"That treasonable talk will cost thee more than five hundred pounds,thou impudent rebel. I allow thee one hour to send and get what may bewanted for a sojourn in Lincoln castle."
At the word, a musketeer seized the squire, and tied his hands behindhim. A growl of angry voices was heard all over the room, and, atumult might have happened, but, at some signal which I did notperceive, a score musketeers entered by the door behind the assemblage.
Squire Stovin called out
: "Will some friend be kind enough to go totell Mrs. Stovin I am going a journey, and want my portmanteau?"
"No man quits the room except by my permission," bawled thecommissioner, as a number of gentlemen turned to do the squire's errand.
Daft Jack, the town idiot, shambled forward from the rear to the table.
"May be your worship's honour will give me leave to go," he said; "butI should like to give the poor King ninepence." And with that the foollaid the coin on the table.
The commissioner, mindful of the chuckling sound of laughter, threw thepiece back to poor Jack, bidding him begone about his business.
The fellow made a gesture of amazement, and then repocketed his money,and shambled off to the other end of the room, talking to himself inhis high falsetto voice the while--
"'Tis a long way to Lincoln, and ferries to cross, and nasty bits ofroad, and footpads and highwaymen about. I wish the squire may getthere safely, poor man."
A faint smile at Daft Jack's concern for the prisoner's safe arrival,crossed the commissioner's face. He evidently did not suspect DaftJack's real intent. Then he called out--
"See you bring the prisoner's portmanteau straight to me, d'ye hear,fool?"
"Yes, yes, your honour," answered Jack.
"James Tankersley, wheelwright," the clerk read out, and thewheelwright stepped forward, well known as a poor, but industrious man,the sole support of an aged mother and his sisters, two sickly women.
"Hast the honour to be chosen to serve his Majesty, Tankersley,"grinned the commissioner.
"Would ask nothing better, your worship, but my poor old mother and mymisters depend on me for their bread."
"That's no affair of mine, man. The day after to-morrow you march withme. If you skulk, you'll be shot as a deserter, that's all."
The big fellow trembled like a leaf in the wind.
"Oh! your honour," he cried, in a choking voice, "have pity on us.'Twill kill my mother."
"Stop your snivelling!" shouted the commissioner, "or I'll have youstrapped up and flogged. If you're a damned coward, pay me ten poundsfor a discharge."
"Ten pounds!" cried the poor fellow; "I haven't a pound in the world,and half the wood in the yard isn't paid for."
Farmer Brewer came to the front, and said: "I will buy his discharge."
"God bless you, Mr. Brewer," said the wheelwright.
"Brewer? Have we that name on the list?" asked the commissioner of hisclerk.
Then the two of them rummaged among their papers, but seemed to have norecord of the farmer's existence. At length the commissioner looked upand said--
"A man who has ten pounds to spare for another must be well to pass,Mr. Brewer. Fifty pounds for the King will be no burdensome demand."
A murmur went round the room, for the farmer had lost heavily in theflood, and everybody knew that he had never prospered greatly.Something to this effect, Brewer began to plead, but was cut short.
"I am not here to argue, my man, but to collect money. If you areobstinate, I have the means at hand to persuade you feelingly. Bringthe sixty pounds by three o'clock, or you will learn what they are.Corporal, pass this man out."
So things went on, man after man being bullied and threatened, and sentoff to scrape money according to the commissioner's assessment. Theproceedings were exciting enough at the time, but they would bewearisome to narrate. They were interrupted by Daft Jack's return, inless than the hour allotted, with the squire's portmanteau, which hedumped down with a bang just inside the room, saying as he sat down onthe floor with his back against the door, mopping his face, "I can'tcarry it a step furder; take it to his honour, one of you." At a nodfrom the corporal, one of his men went forward with it, and placed iton the table. The clerk opened it for the inspection of his chief,when with a humming and buzzing noise which filled the room, a swarm ofangry wasps rushed out. What happened then I cannot describe. I sawthe commissioner and his clerk striking, dancing, in a frenzy, througha darting haze of furious insects.
Looking the other way, I saw a mass of hunched backs and bent heads,helter skelter to the door. Exit thus was too slow for my fancy, witha cloud of wasps round my head, so I jumped from the only window whichopened door-wise. It was a good long drop to the ground, but severalactive men followed me. We found Squire Stovin in saddle in front ofthe inn, his feet tied under the horse's belly, his guards mounted oneach side, and a big crowd gathered round them, hustling and jostlingone another in a manner that boded no good to the troopers, most of themen having their poles in their hands. Mischief would have begunbefore now, but for Mr. Stovin's authority with the fellows. Shortly,the corporal came out to say that the commissioner being unable to givethe instructions for which the men were waiting, he would take theresponsibility of setting the squire free on parole. Mr. Stovinreadily gave it; his bonds were removed, and a mob escorted him home,huzzaing until they were hoarse. Host Hind told me that Tunstall andhis clerk were fearfully stung, and in no small danger. "His head'snear as big as his belly," said Hind of the commissioner. About him Ihad no concern, but much about poor Jack, who would be horriblypunished, doubtless, if he were caught. And, besides, I felt somecuriosity. I found Jack in his one-roomed hovel at the south end ofthe town, with a quantity of articles spread out on the clay floor: apair of cleat boards, a leather bottle, a whittle, coils of wire andband, a ball of worsted string, fish-hooks, corks, cross-bow, a fewcakes of black bread, and other things, some of which he was in processof transferring to his many and capacious pockets.
"I'm going to my hunting-lodge on Thorne moors," said he, with perfectgravity.
"A little money may be of use," I said, tendering some.
"No, thank you, Mester Frank," he replied. "I'm not likely to wantany. There's a plenty of hares, rabbits, moor-fowl, fish, eggs on myestate."
Jack's confidence was well grounded, I knew, as he had the utmost skillin placing a snare for a rabbit, snickling a pike, or luring a birdwithin shot.
"Do you mind telling me how you came to put a wasp's nest into thesquire's portmanteau, Jack?"
"All a mistake through being deep in thought, Mester Frank."
"How so?"
"Coming down the drive, I see a wasp-hole in the bank. And I wantedwasp-grub for bait. So I clodded the hole, and pulled the nest out,you see."
"But you didn't want live wasps, Jack."
"Live wasps are very good for dibbing, Mester Frank, if you know how tohandle 'em. But, being deep in thought, I put the nest into Squire'sporkmankle instead of into my handkerchief. And I forgot the nest whenI put the porkmankle down, and give it a shake, through being so deepin thought."
"But what were you thinking about so deeply?"
"Tryin to puzzle it out why the pot-bellied man called me a fool."
And Jack looked as if the question still perplexed him.
"Fool, or no fool, Jack, you have done what none of the rest of us hadthe wit or pluck to do. But he will kill you, if ever he gets wellenough to do it."
"If I live till he kills me, I shall be a very old man," Jack replied,with immense scornfulness.
He had now stowed away his properties, some in his pockets, and some ina sack, which he slung over his shoulder, and stood ready for flight.We shook hands, and he said--
"Luke Barnby knows the way to my lodge."
Desirous as I was to return to the vicarage, it took me a long time todo so, for everybody was in the main street, talking and laughing overthe sudden break-up of the meeting summoned by the commissioner. HereI met one who had not been present, and wished to hear my account ofthe affair; there another, who had been present, and wanted to go overit again. A knot of young fellows dragged me into the White Hart,where they drank Daft Jack's health, and the health of the man who had"put him up to the trick." For no reason they had given me the creditof the device, nor did my plain denial quite remove their belief that Ihad a hand in the business. At last I got away from them, and foundall quiet at the vicarage.
It had been agreed to act on the suggestion of the chief constable thefollowing day, and he had engaged to protect the house during thenight. Anna, as I had come to name her to myself, had recovered fromthe shock of the previous evening, and looked charming even with across of plaister on her brow. After I had told the true and fullstory of Daft Jack's achievement, the doctor and the parson prosedalternately, the one describing all the venomous insects known to man,I should think; the other giving instances from history, sacred andprofane, of their intervention in human affairs, and seeming to havepleasure in recounting the torture inflicted on an unlucky wight, whosename I forget, by an enemy who had him smeared with honey, and exposedto the stings of bees and wasps. The vicar was too good a Christian torejoice in the sufferings of the commissioner, but I am sure he gotsome kind of consolation in the very particular description which hemade of the torments of the other man.
Anna was unusually silent, which I hoped might be due to the samethought as kept me so, that of the parting to come on the morrow. Inoted with secret delight that the songs she chose, when she went tothe spinet at my request, were tinged with a sweet melancholy, whichmight be that of love.