Sir Ludar

  CHAPTER NINE.

  HOW I CAUGHT THE MISERICORDE.

  So restless and anxious was I as the day passed that I hastened back tomy hiding-place in the wood early in the afternoon, determined rather tolie there than run the risk of being seen in the village. It was well Idid so, for I had not been there half-an-hour when I heard Ludar's heavytramp crashing through the underwood.

  He threw himself beside me, haggard and dejected.

  "How is she to know of this?" said he.

  "Tell her," I answered.

  He smiled scornfully.

  "Had you ever seen the maiden," said he, "you would know that it is nolight task. She has me at arm's length. If I tell her of her peril andoffer my protection she will perhaps say she needs not my protection, orthat, if I like not the peril, I need not face it. Or she may suspectme of serving myself while I denounce my enemy. Or she may take thecase to Sir William, whom I believe to be the Captain's friend. Tospeak plain, Humphrey, I am afraid to speak to her, and for that reasonI have come to you."

  "Indeed," said I; "if she would not hear you, how would she be like toheed a plain London 'prentice like me?"

  "At least she would not suspect you of any motive but that of servingher."

  Little he knew! Yet I never saw him less courageous or more humble thannow. He was a rude, uncouth outlaw, he said, and knew none of the artsand speeches of a fine gentleman. She laughed at his clumsy ways anddespised his ignorance. She would as soon think of trusting her safetyto him as to this elderly rascal Laker.

  I did my best to reason with him, but in vain. At length, by sheercompulsion, he dragged me with him towards the park, reminding me of myvow, and bidding me, as I loved him, be his deputy in this matter.

  By a lucky fortune, as we approached the gate, who should ride up on herpalfrey but our maiden herself. She was alone and without attendant.Ludar told me afterwards that such was her wont. Once he had offeredhis escort, and she had replied he might come if he could promise hermerrier company than her own. "Whereat," said Ludar, "I stayed behind."

  She reined up as she saw us in the path before her, and a flush ofsurprise and pleasure sprang to her cheeks. How much may a man see in amoment! As she sat there, glowing with her rapid ride, and glancingfrom one to the other of us, I read a long history in her eyes. Theywere frank and fearless as ever; but as ever and anon they lit on Ludar,where he stood uneasy and blushing, they seemed to me to soften for amoment into a gentleness in which I had no share. If before I had onlyguessed my fate, something in her air made me sure of it now. And yet,had you seen her there, you would have said the maiden thinks no betterof one of these lads than the other; nor does she think over much ofeither.

  "Humphrey, my friend," said she, "I am glad to see you, and in thisbrave company. Have you taken service under our Knight of the RuefulCountenance, or does he follow you?"

  "May it please you," said I, gallantly, "Sir Ludar and I know no servicebut yours."

  "I knew not that you knew one another," said she, ignoring my speech."Have you been hunting the English Queen's deer again, Sir Knight?"

  "No, maiden," said Ludar, gravely. "But Humphrey here hath news for youif you will hear it."

  Thus put forward, I related as shortly as possible what I had overheardin the park. She listened calmly; but I could tell by the paling of hercheeks and the heaving of her bosom that my story was a shock to her.

  "If this be true," said she presently, "as I suppose it is, why stand weidly here?"

  "The Captain quitted the Hall at daybreak," said I. "I saw him go. To-night the letter should reach Sir William announcing his detention atCourt, and committing you to the charge of this man Laker."

  "Before which time," said the maiden, resolutely, "I shall be far enoughaway, and with a better escort. What say you, Sir Ludar? When shall weset out?"

  So she had accepted our protection before ever we offered it! It wouldhave done you good to mark the joyous smile on Ludar's face as he sawall his difficulties vanish at a word, and found that she took him afterall for her champion.

  "In an hour's time," said he, "if it be not too speedy a making ready."

  "'Tis a long journey," said she. "Which way do we go? and are we togallop from here to Ireland all the way with the enemy at our heels?"

  Then I spoke.

  "By your leave," said I, "I know of an easier and safer way than theroad. There is a trading ship sails to-morrow from London Bridge toLeith. I know the captain, a Frenchman. If the lady will trust herselfby sea--"

  "Trust the sea!" cried she, with a laugh. "Why Humphrey, my heartbounds at the thought of it. I was born on the sea. I played by it asa child. It is the only thing free under heaven. Of course we will goby sea. And while our pursuers play hide and seek by road, we shall bedrinking the salt breezes, listening to the music of the waves, andwatching the happy gulls as they wheel round our heads or speed forwardto those we love with tidings of our coming."

  And she laughed like a child to whom a holiday is offered, so that we,had there been a thousand roads, could have chosen no other for her orourselves.

  Two hours later, as it grew dusk, I lay in a boat beneath the willows,where the Park sloped down to the river's edge. Thanks to Sir William'sgout, and the absence of the Captain, his guest, no one had taken thetrouble to recognise me and ask me my business. And any one who mayhave seen me there would certainly have set me down as waterman to somevisitor at the Hall, waiting my orders.

  So indeed I was; and as the moments passed, I grew impatient andanxious. The tide would scarcely serve us all the way; and should theFrenchman haul his anchor too early on the morrow, we might find himgone. Besides, every moment they delayed, the man Laker might perchancesuspect what was afoot and take measures to spoil our escape.

  At length they came, Ludar supporting the old nurse, the serving mancarrying a box, the maiden walking quietly in front, as calmly as if shewere taking an evening walk to hear the nightingale sing. Not a wordwas spoken as they embarked, or until the boat, with Ludar and me at theoars, was dropping swiftly down the stream. Then the old woman brokeout in a torrent.

  "A plague on all these schoolboy antics!" cried she. "Here be we, at anhour when honest folk should be abed, slinking down the river likepirates, with ne'er a pillow to our backs or a covering to our bones--and for why? What am I to say to my master your father, child, when heknows of your running thus from your lawful guardian, and committingyourself to a brace of raw-boned gallow-glasses that ye scarce know thenames of, and for all we know, are bringing us into worse plight thanever they pretend to save us from? Ochone? glad I shall be to see yesafe under O'Neill's roof; for since the day I had charge of ye, I neverknew a moment's peace. Are ye not ashamed, hussy? Had ye not lessonenough among the low 'prentices, that day in the fields, and among thegallants here at Richmond, that ye trust yourself now, ay and me to,poor body that deserve better of you, to a parcel of loons on a wildvoyage like this? Are ye fool enough to expect any good of such asthey? Was not I myself served thus when I was a fresh young maid likeyou? Innocent indeed! I fancy I can see the ship they talk of, and thehills of old Tirconnell! Take my word, 'tis a trap to lead ye back toLondon, girl, and no more. And then, you had better have gone west withthe Captain, than east with these smooth-faced schemers."

  Thus she complained, and the maiden soothed her as best she could, andcomposed her gently to rest. Amongst us, we made the poor body a bed onthe floor of the boat, where she might at least lay her limbs at ease.

  For an hour or more she broke fitfully into murmurs and complaints, butpresently, as we neared Chiswick, sleep came to her help and ours.

  After that, the night seemed to me like a dream. The serving man laysnoring in the prow, and only we three sat up to feast on the beauty ofthe night. The moon rode high above our heads, changing the river intoa silver band, and deepening the mysterious shadows of the crowdingwoods on either bank. Not a sound was heard but the regular plas
h ofour blades; naught moved but our gliding boat, and the silent waterwhich bore us. Ludar, lugging steadily at his oar, spoke not a word.Yet I knew, though I was at his back, where his eyes rested, and whatwas the big content in his heart. As for me, lulled by music of ouroars, and entranced by the balmy brightness of the night, I forgot mygreat sorrow, and with my eyes on naught but one fair face, felt astrange peace. Nor I think was she, as she sat there, erect, in thestern, her form clear cut against the silver water behind, indifferentto the restfulness of the scene. Her eyes, gazing far away, seemed togather in them the wandering rays of the moon; and when presently,scarce heeding, perhaps, what she did, she broke into a soft murmuringchant, which rose and fell with the cadence of our oars, I, at least,felt the bewitchment complete.

  Little dreamed any of us how soon the peace of that brief voyage was tobe broken.

  When the midsummer dawn chased the moonbeams from off the water, we hadreached Battersea, on a fast failing tide. Before we reached Lambeth,the stream was turning against us; and it needed all the strength of ourarms after that to make headway. Yet how could we tire? She neverdrooped the livelong night, nor, when she perceived what vigour hermusic lent to our rowing, did she weary of chanting to us. Keepingclose under the marshy southern bank to escape the current, we slowlymade our way, till we came at length within sight of the Bridge.

  Then ensued a toil beside which the labours of the night were asnothing; for the angry tide swirled fiercely through the narrow way,threatening, when we approached it, to drive us back up stream. Yet, bydint of much effort and clinging to the piles, and, more than all,Ludar's notable exploits with the oars, we won through at last.

  The first sound that met our ears was a cheery "Yeo-ho!" somewhere near,and looking up, I saw the Frenchman, with the Queen's flag at his mast-head, making ready, so soon as the tide turned, to weigh anchor and dropseaward.

  He looked over at us doubtfully, as we hailed him and came alongside;but when he saw me and heard what was in the wind, he lowered his ladderand had us up into the ship.

  He was a poor man, he said, and his ship ill-fitted for so brave acompany; yet if we misliked not his price, and the ladies would put upwith the rest, why, then, he would take us.

  Then the maiden told him to make himself easy about the price. She hadwherewithal to satisfy him on that score. Whereupon the Frenchman grewmonstrous civil and bade her consider the ship as her own; while as forLudar and the serving man and me, what we lacked in money, said he, hewould take out of us in work. This suited us well, and the business wassettled.

  As it wanted two hours yet to the turn of the tide, I begged my newcaptain's leave, while we waited, to take the boat in which we had cometo where it would be restored to its rightful owner. The Frenchmanagreed, not without difficulty; "For," said he, "so soon as the tidegives, I must weigh anchor, with you, or without you. Nevertheless, ifyou must go, go."

  Ludar, too, dissuaded me from venturing. But the maiden said: "Whyhinder him, Sir Knight? Humphrey is no child that he cannot be trusted;and to prove it, my friend," said she, drawing forth her purse, "as youreturn, pray buy me a large warm cloak for my good old nurse, who is illused to the sea and is shivering already. Spend what you need, andbring me back the rest."

  The purse was a heavy one, and I wondered at her freak in trusting itall to me, when one piece from it would have sufficed. However, it wasnot for me to question her; so, promising to be back in good time, I letmyself down to the boat, and rowed lustily to the steps below theBridge. I durst not venture further citywards where I was known; but Iremembered my old enemy, Will Peake on the Bridge, and resolved tocommit the boat to his care, knowing him for an honest 'prentice whowould see it duly returned to its owner. Besides, where better, thoughtI, could I find a shawl for old Judy than among the Mercers on theBridge?

  So up to the Bridge I clambered, merry to think how soon I, and all Iloved best, would be far away on the free sea, with our enemies allbehind, and our hopes all before.

  Will Peake hailed me civilly, and hearing of my plight, readily chargedhimself with the business of the boat. Then it seemed to me I could notdo better than consult him about the cloak, and I did so; whereat hepuffed himself very big, and said, if I meant to make the garmentmyself, he could sell me the stuff, if not, I must go into Cheap, andbuy one ready made at the shops. So I thanked him, and hastened withquick strides citywards.

  I had hoped to get my merchandise over on the Bridge. Yet there wasample time to spare even without haste. For all that, I ran, longing tobe safe back on the _Misericorde_.

  Now, just as I came near the Steel yard (where you turn by Dowgatetowards Wallbrook), I met a party of soldiers loitering in the road, asit seemed in quest of somebody. Seeing me running their way, theyclosed upon me as I came up, and bade me halt. I bade them, angrilyenough, unhand me and let me go by, as I was an honest citizen, andpressed on an errand to Cheapside. At this they laughed, and said thatwas what every man they caught vowed, and since they did not like thelooks of me, I must away with them to see what their captain would thinkof me.

  I protested in vain that I was in urgent haste; they laughed over again,and had me away to a tavern hard by, where, said they, their captainlodged and would see me anon.

  All this time the minutes were flying, and I was at my wits' end what todo. It seemed to me wisest, if I could, to humour them, if perchancethey might be cajoled to let me go. But when, after waiting half-an-hour, the captain did not appear, I felt I must do something, or give uphope of reaching the ship in time. So I beckoned the leader of the bandto me.

  "Friend," said I, as civilly as I could, "indeed I am not the man youtake me for; I am a sailor, bound to a merchant vessel, which in half-an-hour is to sail on the tide for sea--"

  "A sailor!" quoth he, "nay, by my body, thou'rt a soldier now, my lad,and a brave one to boot. We want lads of thy build for the wars; sorest thee content to travel by land instead of by sea. Here's money onit," thrusting silver into my hand, "let's see how neatly thou can'stturn up a tankard to the Queen's health!"

  "No," cried I, letting the money drop, "I am no soldier. And as formoney," said I, pulling out my lady's purse, "here is an angel for you,good man, if you but let me go."

  "Oh, ho," cried he, "'tis a lad with a purse, is it? So much the betterfor us. Here, comrades," cried he.

  But I waited for no more. The bells of Cheap were already chiming thehour. With a blow of my fist I felled him, and breaking through therest of them before they comprehended what I was about, I took to myheels.

  Then ensued a hue and cry the like of which Thames Street had not oftenwitnessed. The soldiers, encumbered as they were with their harness,could only shout and raise the town. Others, more fleet, pressed mehard; others, coming to meet the uproar, hustled me, and struck me at,and tripped me as I went by. But I had not wrestled and played footballin Finsbury Fields for naught. At length the crowd became so great, allrunning one way, that not a man knew why he ran, or what it was allabout. As for me, when I saw that, I mingled with the crowd, andshouted, "Stop thief!" with the loudest of them. Then, when no onethought of me, I slipped quickly down to the water's edge, and flungmyself into the first wherry I found.

  But by this time the hour was long gone by. For we had been chasinghalf-an-hour up and down; up Watling Street, across Cheap, behind theNew Exchange, up Cornhill, down Gracious Street, and along the new FishStreet towards the Bridge; so that when, more dead than alive, I struckout into the stream and shot the Bridge, not a sign was there of the_Misericorde_.

  I was tempted to give it up then, and let who would take me. And,indeed, there seemed a good chance of that. For the owner of my wherry,supposing me to be the thief I seemed, was already out after me, and inanother few minutes the hue and cry by water would be as loud as that byland. So on I went on the rapid ebb for dear life. And casting my eyesupward, I noticed that the air was still and windless; so that wherevershe was, the _Misericorde_ could be getting
little help from her canvas.And if she were only drifting on the tide, why should not I with myoars make as good or better pace than she?

  Yet I confess I was sorely vexed to think that they had gone without me;and when I remembered further that I had the lady's purse with me, Icould have thrown myself, in despair, over my boat's side. What wouldthey think and say of me!

  I could see the waterman's boat behind me come through the Bridge, andguessed well enough that some other craft near it were joining in thepursuit. So I pulled desperately, and made my boat fly down the stream.Yet ever as I turned and looked ahead there was no sign of the_Misericorde_. Worse still, a flutter of breeze on my brow showed thatthe wind was already coming, and then, I knew I might row my arms off,and never catch her. The dogged waterman behind me still held on andseemed to be gaining. Little wonder if he did, for I had been rowingall night, and now my arms began to flag. Yet what was his stake onthis race compared with mine? So away down the stream I pulled pastDeptford, and the Queen's Palace at Greenwich (Heaven save her!) turningmy looks now forward, now backward, and praying each minute for a sightof the _Misericorde_. A little past Greenwich I was near meeting myend; for, looking eagerly for a sight of my pursuers behind, I failed toperceive a boat crossing the river ahead of me; nor was it till myboat's nose struck her full in the side that I was aware of theobstacle. The man and woman in the boat (which seemed to be a floatingpedlar's shop plying among the ships), swore at me roundly, and I hadmuch ado to persuade them that no harm was done, and that if any one hada right to complain, I had. I was rowing on, to put an end to theparley, when my eye caught sight of a bundle of garments on the boat'spoop.

  "Stay," cried I, "to show I bear you no malice, I will even make apurchase of you, if you have what I require."

  "Name it," said they, doubtfully.

  "Have you a cloak, warm enough and smart enough, to wrap my poor oldmother in, when I take her on the water?" said I.

  "That have we," cried the woman, fumbling in the heap, "but 'tis morethan you will pay."

  "How much?" I remanded.

  She said a half-angel; but when I too eagerly pulled out my mistress'spurse to pay her, her eyes gleamed and she said she was mistaken, shehad no cloak there for less than a gold angel.

  "Show it me," said I, coming alongside.

  It was what I wanted, yet I durst not say so. So I snatched it byforce, and tossing the woman an angel, made off with my prize, leavingthem amazed and swearing by all the heathen gods they had been robbedand left beggars.

  While I delayed thus my pursuers had gained rapidly upon me, and I saw Imust pull away in earnest if I was to avoid them. So, comforted to havethe cloak, and resolved, if I rowed all the way from here to the sea, Iwould overtake the _Misericorde_, I cast aside all languor and made mycraft once more leap through the water. The wind was freshening fastand helped me on. Alas! I well knew it would soon do the same both forthe Frenchman's sails ahead, and for my pursuers behind. I own theselatter were stronger rowers than I, for still they seemed to be creepingup upon me at every stroke, and by nothing I could do was I able to putmore distance between us. Should they overtake me, there would be moredelay, and that, whatever came of it, meant that the ship would be gonebeyond all reach. However, when at length I swung round the point andlooked up the broad reach that leads to Woolwich, there to my joy, halfa mile ahead was the _Misericorde_, setting her sails and waiting on thecoming breeze.

  I paused not to shout, but gathered together all my powers, and let outwith my oars until I thought they would crack. For half-an-hour I couldnot say whether I was gaining on her, or my waterman on me. At length Iresolved to risk the short delay of a signal. So I stood in my boatwaving the cloak over my head and shouting "Halloo!" with all the breathin my body. I durst not wait more than a moment to watch for a reply.None came, but instead, the yards bellied with the wind. I flung myselfwith a groan on my seat, and took back my oars. Already the watermanwas within shouting distance, and his comrades not far behind. But Iheeded not their cries, and plunged my oars once again in bitter chase.It was long before I durst look round. Then, to my surprise, I saw herstanding away in to the Essex shore with all her sails full of wind.

  Then all seemed lost, till I reflected that she must come back foranother tack before she could clear the bend. If so, I was safe. So Ikept steadily on, scarcely holding my own with my pursuers, until atlength, to my joy, I saw her put about and bear down full upon me. Itwas an anxious time as she came up. No one on board, it was clear,guessed who I might be; nor, I think, did any one perceive me as I laythere, except the man at the prow, who, seeing me resolved to be rundown, left me to take my will. By this time my pursuer was a hundredyards away, thinking himself sure of me at last, and saving his breath.It was a race whether he or the _Misericorde_ would be upon me thesooner, but I settled that. For, as the ship came up, slowing towardsthe end of her tack, I took a few strokes out to meet her, and thenturning my boats' head quickly slipped close under. I had alreadymarked a rope that hung from the poop within reach, and on this, whenthe moment came, I ventured my all. Taking the cloak over my shoulder,and casting away my oars, I sprang to my feet, and gave one leap whichsent my empty boat staggering back into her owner's hands, while it leftme hanging 'twixt heaven and earth.

  To haul myself aboard was the work of a minute; even as I did so, Icould see out of the corner of my eye my pursuer staring round at me,amazed, while he reached out to secure his truant craft. But that wasall I saw of him, for next moment I stood on deck half-fainting, face toface with Ludar and the maiden and a stranger.