The White Gauntlet. Reid Mayne

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ disgraced England’s fame – at the ford of Newburn.”

      Gathering up his reins as he spoke, and giving utterance to a taunting laugh, the strange horseman pressed the spur against the sides of his splendid steed, and started off at a swinging gallop along the road.

      It was only when that laugh rang in his ears, that the cuirassier captain became roused to the full frenzy of rage; and, with eyes on fire, and brow black as midnight, he rushed forward, sword in hand, in a frantic attempt to strike down the insulter.

      “Disloyal knave!” cried he, lungeing out to the full length of his arm, “thou shalt drink the king’s health in thine own blood! Ha! stop him!” he continued, as the horseman glided beyond his reach – “My pistols!”

      “Ho, there!” shouted he to his followers. “Your carbines! Fire upon him! Where are your weapons, you careless vagabonds? To horse, and follow!”

      “An ye take my advice, masters,” put in the landlord of the inn – a sturdy tapster of independent speech – “ye’ll stay wheer ye are. An ye doan’t, ye’ll be havin’ yeer ride for nothin’. Ye mawt as well gie chase to a wild goose. He’ll be two mile frae this, ’fore you can git astride o’ your nags.”

      “What, varlet!” cried the cuirassier captain, turning furiously upon the speaker – “you presume – ”

      “Only, great coronel, to gie ye a bit o’ sound advice. Ye ma’ folla it or no’ an’ ye pleeze; but if ye folla him ye won’t catch him – not this night, I trow, though theer be a full moon to light ye on his track.”

      The air of imperturbable coolness, with which the Saxon Boniface made rejoinder, instead of increasing the fury of the officer, seemed rather to have the effect of tranquillising him.

      “You know him, then?” demanded he in an altered tone.

      “Well, e-e’s! a leetlish bit only. He be one o’ my customers, and have his drink occasional as he passes by here. I know his horse a bit better mayhap. That be a anymal worth the knowin’. I’ve seed him clear that geeat – it be six-feet-high – moren once, wee’ve seed him do it. Ha’nt we, lads?”

      “That we have, Master Jarvis,” replied several of the bystanders, to whom the appeal had been made.

      “E-ees, indeed, great coronel,” continued the landlord, once more addressing his speech to the captain of cuirassiers, “an’ if yer fellows want to folla him, they maun be up to ridin’ cross country a bit, or else – ”

      “His name!” eagerly interrupted the officer, “You know where the knave lives?”

      “Not exactly – neyther one nor t’other,” was the equivocal reply. “As for his name, we only knows him ’bout here as the Black Horseman, an’ that he belong som’ere among the hills up the Jarret’s Heath way – beyond the great park o’ Bulstrode.”

      “Oh! he lives near Bulstrode, does he?”

      “Somer bot theer, I dar say.”

      “I know where he lives,” interposed one of the rustics who stood by. “It be a queery sort o’ a place – a old red brick house; an’ Stone Dean be the name o’t. It lie in the middle o’ the woods ’tween Beckenfield an’ the two Chaffonts. I can take ye theer, master officer, if ye be a wantin’ to go.”

      “Jem Biggs!” said the landlord, sidling up to the last speaker, and whispering the words in his ear, “thee be a meddlin’ ’ficious beggar. If thee go on such a errand, don’t never again show thy ugly mug in my tap room.”

      “Enough!” impatiently exclaimed the officer; “I dare say we shall easily find the fellow. Dismount, men,” continued he, turning to some of the troopers, who had sprung into their saddles. “Return your horses to their stalls. We may as well stay here for the night,” he added in a whisper, to his cornet; “it’s no use going after him till the morning. As the old prattler says, we might have our ride for nothing. Besides, there’s that little appointment in Uxbridge. By the angel Gabriel! I’ll find the knave if I should have to scour every corner of the county. More wine, landlord! – burnt sack! – and beer for these thirsty vagabonds! We’ll drink the king once more, with three times three. Ha! where’s our courtier? Gone too?”

      “He’s just ridden off, captain,” answered one of the troopers, still seated in his saddle. “Shall I gallop after, and bring him back?”

      “No,” replied the officer, after a moment’s consideration. “Let the stripling go his way. I know where he’s to be found; and shall do myself the honour of dining with him to-morrow. The wine! Come! fill your cans, you right royal rascals, and drink —The King!”

      “The King! Hurraw!”

      Volume One – Chapter Eight

      Desirous of escaping from the disagreeable companionship – into which he had been so unceremoniously, as well as unwillingly, drawn – the young courtier had taken advantage of the confusion, and trotted quietly away.

      On rounding a corner – beyond which the road was not visible from the inn – he put spurs to his horse, and urged the animal into a gallop.

      Though he had given no offence, he was not without apprehension, that he might be followed, and summoned back: for the brace of bullies, from whom he had just parted, appeared quite capable of committing further outrage. He knew that, in the name of the king, excesses were of every-day occurrence. The Monarch’s minions had become accustomed to insult the people with impunity. The soldiers in particular bore themselves offensively – more especially those hungry troopers, who, returning unpaid from the Northern campaign, were thrown idle upon the country. The disgrace they had fairly earned – by fleeing before the Scots, from the ford of Newburn – had deprived them of the sympathies of their own countrymen: as a natural consequence provoking towards the latter a sort of swaggering and reckless hostility.

      The incident which had occurred, and in which he had been an involuntary actor, inspired Walter Wade with some emotions that were new to him: and, as he slackened his pace, after a sharp canter, he fell into a train of reflections very different from those hitherto engaging his thoughts.

      He was still too young to have entered into the politics of the time. He knew that there was trouble between the king and his people; but, breathing only the atmosphere of the “Presence,” he could have no other belief, than that the right was on the side of royalty.

      He knew that the king, after an interregnum of eleven years, had summoned a Parliament, to settle the differences between himself and his subjects. He knew this, from having been officially present at its opening. He knew, moreover, that this Parliament, after sitting only a few days, had been summarily dismissed: for he had been also present at its prorogation.

      What should the young courtier care for such incidents as these – however significant they might be to the patriot, or politician?

      To do him justice, however, Walter Wade, young as he was, was not altogether indifferent to what was passing. The spirit of his ancestry – that love of liberty, that had displayed itself at Runnymede – was not absent from his bosom. It was there; though hitherto held in check by the circumstances surrounding him. He had witnessed the punishments of the pillory – by summary sentence of Star Chamber and High Commission Court; he had been present at fearful spectacles, of ear-croppings and other mutilations; and, although among companions, who beheld such scenes with indifference – or often regarded them СКАЧАТЬ