Sir Christopher: A Romance of a Maryland Manor in 1644. Goodwin Maud Wilder

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СКАЧАТЬ older he and I can deal together as man to man."

      "Oh, it is such a relief to my mind!" sighed Elinor.

      "And to mine," quoth Neville.

      "It is not the same thing as being my tenant?"

      "Not at all – quite different. And thou wilt come with Cecil to see how the land fares from time to time?"

      "Why, that were but business."

      "Truly to do aught else were treason to thy son's interest, and by and by when the house is built and the title of Robin Hood's Barn suits the manor no more, thou and he will come to visit me there?"

      "That could not be – "

      "No, I feared that was asking too much," Neville said humbly, "but at least thou wilt let me have the boy?"

      "How good thou art!"

      "Good!– I to thee? Shall I tell thee whose picture dwells in my soul by day and night, Elinor?" There was a curious vibration in Neville's voice, as if memory were pulling out the stops of an organ.

      "Ay, tell me," said Elinor, tremulously, in a voice scarce above a whisper.

      "'Tis that of a girl in a robe of green like the one thou wearest this night – ay, and floating sleeves like thine, whereby she caught the name she bears in my heart."

      A softness stole into Elinor's eyes and the flush of girlhood rose to her cheek.

      "Ah," Neville went on. "Dost thou remember that day in the Somerset wood, and how I gave thee the name of Lady Greensleeves, and how I sang thee the dear old ballad, thou sitting on the stone wall and I leaning against the great chestnut-tree?"

      "Nay, 'twas not a chestnut – 'twas an oak, for I do recall the acorns that lay about thy feet as I listened with my eyes cast down."

      "And I stood looking at thy lashes, scarce knowing whether I would have them lift or not, as they lay against the rose of thy cheek."

      "How long ago it all was!" sighed Elinor.

      "Yet when thou dost speak and look like that it seems but yesterday. Oh, my dearest – "

      Neville, carried beyond his prudence, drew nearer and was about to fall upon his knees before her, when he saw the door open to admit Mistress Brent, followed by a servant bearing a steaming bowl of posset.

      How much of his speech had been overheard, he knew not. Manlike he found it hard to steer his bark in an instant from deep waters into the shallows of conversation; but Elinor took the helm and dashed into the safe channel.

      "Mary, thou art come in good time to help me to argue terms with a too generous tenant."

      Mary Brent came forward smiling, but a little bewildered.

      Elinor took the goblets from the tray and filled them with the posset. "Drink!" she cried gaily. "Drink both of you to the prosperity of Cecil Manor, and I will drink a health to Cecil's tenant, Sir Christopher Neville."

      With this, she swept a deep courtesy, and rising, clinked her goblet against Neville's.

      At the same moment Cecil burst upon them from the stairs, his golden curls topped by Master Neville's brown cavalier hat, and the heavy cloak sweeping the floor after him as he walked.

      "Good evening, madam!" he cried, sweeping off his hat before Mary Brent with a droll imitation of Neville's manner.

      "Small boys," said Elinor, "wax bold as bed hour draws near. Ask pardon of Sir Christopher and be off to thy bed."

      "Thou wilt come with me?"

      "Not to-night, sweetheart; we have a guest – "

      "Guest or no guest, I go not without thee," cried the child. "'Tis the first time since our coming thou didst ever deny me. I should lie awake and see bogies an thou didst not tuck in the counterpane about me with thine own hands."

      "I pray thee," said Neville, under his breath, "grant the boy his wish. Let not his acquaintance and mine begin with misliking."

      At this, Cecil, who till now had hung back and glowered at the stranger from behind his mother's skirts, came forward with the grace of the Calvert line, and stretching out his hand frankly to Neville, said: "I thank you, thir; I am glad you are come to stay with us." As his mother led him away to bed he turned on the landing and kissed his hand to the new-comer. Then, with a sudden relapse into the barbarism of childhood, he dropped on hands and knees and climbed the remaining stairs in that fashion – growling like a wolf as he went. Ten minutes later the group in the hall heard him chanting an evening hymn, and his voice had the high, unearthly sweetness, the clear, angelic note of those who stand before the Throne.

      CHAPTER II

      ST. GABRIEL'S AND ST. INIGO'S

      When Elinor returned from Cecil's bedside, Neville detected traces of weeping in the flush of her cheek and the heaviness of her eyelids; but her manner was gracious and marked by a gaiety which would have led one who did not know her well to believe that she was as light-hearted as the boy upstairs.

      The candles on the supper-table shone on a strangely assorted group. At the head of the board sat Mistress Brent. She was a demure little lady, like a sleek white cat, full of domestic impulses, clinging to her hearthstone and purring away life, content to rub against the feet of those whom she counted her superiors. Her placid face beamed with joy at the thought that her roof was found worthy to shelter the holy Fathers from St. Inigo's. Yet, even as she rejoiced, she remembered with some misgivings a conversation she had held with her brother Giles before his setting out. "Mary," he had said, "it is rumored throughout the province that thy house is headquarters for the Jesuits."

      "Brother," she had answered, "my house is open to all who seek its shelter, and shall I shut its doors to the priests of our Holy Church?"

      "There is no arguing with women," her brother had said, with a testy shrug of his shoulders. "Thou must needs turn every question of policy into an affair of pious sentiment. Baltimore is as good a Catholic as thou; but he is first of all an Englishman, and second, the ruler of this province, wherein he hath promised fair play to men of all creeds; and he will not have the reins of control wrenched from his hands by the Jesuits, who hold themselves free of the common law, and answerable to none but the tribunals of the Church."

      "I know naught of questions of policy, Giles, as thou sayst; but while I have a roof over my head, I will take for the motto of my house the words of Scripture: 'Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.'"

      When this motto is posted over the lintel there will never be a lack of footmarks on the threshold. Many were the guests who came to try the hospitality of St. Gabriel's Manor, and no visitors were more frequent than the Jesuits, those brave men who for the sake of their faith had crossed the sea, braved the perils of the wilderness, and planted a mission near St. Mary's which they christened St. Inigo's.

      On Mary Brent's right hand this evening sat one of these priests, Father White, whose shrewd eyes shone with love to God and man, whose heart yearned over the sinner as it bowed before the saint, and whose life was at the service of the order of Ignatius Loyola. His features were delicately cut, and the skin of a transparency which recalled the alabaster columns at San Marco with the light shining through them. So translucent to the soul behind seemed his fragile frame.

      His mulatto servant, Francisco, СКАЧАТЬ