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

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СКАЧАТЬ recalling himself, he dropped his half outstretched arm and asked:

      "Is it the blessing of Holy Church you crave?"

      "No, faith!" cried Neville, suddenly emancipated from the thrall of his first impression. "It was but the blessing of a good man I asked, which to my thinking should have some value, with the backing of any church or none; but since it must be bought with hypocrisy or begged on bended knee I will have none of it. Good-night, madam," he added, bowing low to Elinor; and helping himself to a candle from the table, he lighted it at the fire.

      "Good-night, my daughter!" the priest echoed, and added softly: "Concede misericors Deus fragilitati nostræ præsidium!"

      CHAPTER IV

      THE LORD OF THE MANOR

      The morning sun streamed into the bedroom where Cecil slept on his low truckle-bed beside his mother's curtained couch. The brilliant rays tugged at the boy's eyelids and lifted them as suddenly as the ropes raise the curtain of a play-house, and indeed to this small observer it seemed that a perpetual comedy was being acted in the world for his special benefit. Better still, that it was his delightful privilege to play the part of Harlequin in this rare farce of life and to make the gravest grown-people the sport of his jests. The earliest manifestation of humor, in the individual as in the race, is the practical joke; so it was quite natural that as a fresh and delightful pleasantry it occurred to Cecil, instantly on waking, to creep over to his mother's bed and begin to tickle her ear with the tassel of the bed curtain. The mere occupation was pleasure enough, but the sensation rose to ecstasy as he watched the sleepy hand raised time after time to brush away the supposed insect. At length the enjoyment grew too exquisite for repression, and at the cost of ruining its own existence burst out into a peal of laughter that roused the drowsy mother.

      "Thou naughty implet! What hour o' the clock is it?"

      "I know not the hour o' the clock; but o' the sun 'tis past rising time, and Couthin Mary is stirring already."

      "Then we must be stirring too; but first sit thee down here on the edge of the bed and try to listen as if thou wert grown."

      "I am, mother, – I am above thy waist."

      "Ay," said Elinor, smiling, "but the question is, art thou up to my meaning? Hearken! Dost thou know what a tenant is?"

      "Ay, – 'tis a man who farms thy land, giving thee half and keeping three quarters for himthelf."

      His mother laughed.

      "Thou hast a good understanding for one so young, and the description is apt enough for most tenants; but how sayst thou of one who would give thee three quarters and keep only one for himself?"

      "Why, 'twould not become a Calvert to drive such a bargain with such a poor fool."

      "Thou art not far wrong. Share and share alike is fair dealing 'twixt land and labor, and so let it be between thee and Sir Christopher Neville."

      "Thir Chrithtopher Neville! The gentleman that came last night? Why, he ith no laborer. He cannot be in need to work for a living."

      "Nay, Cecil, 'tis a labor of love."

      "There, mother, I knew he liked me, for all thou saidst my borrowing of his sword and cloak did anger him. Every one likes me. Couthin Mary says so."

      "Vain popinjay! thou art too credulous of flattery."

      "Would Couthin Mary tell a lie?"

      "Never mind that question now, but don thy best clothing for the ceremony of receiving the homage of thy tenant this morning."

      "Hooray! Am I to wear my morocco shoes with the red satin roses?"

      "Ay."

      "And my thilver-broidered doublet?"

      "Ay, little peacock."

      "And my stockings with the clocks of gold? Oh, Mother, it makes me feel so grand! I like being lord of the manor. And Thir Chrithtopher Neville must kneel before me; and how if I tickle him on the neck when he bends, and make him laugh out before them all?"

      "Cecil, if thou dost disgrace me by any of thy clownish pranks, thou and I will never be friends more. And give thyself no airs either with this kind new friend. Say to thyself, when he bows before thee, that it is strength bending to weakness, and pride stooping that it may help the helpless."

      "Do I stand on the platform at the end of the hall where Couthin Mary stands when her tenants come in?"

      "Yes, with Cousin Mary and me beside thee."

      "I hope Thir Chrithtopher trips on the step. But I like him, for all he hath the eyes of a hawk and the mouth of a mastiff."

      "Well thou mayst like him! Friends like him are scarce enough anywhere, and most of all in this new land. Now run away and make haste lest we vex Cousin Mary by our tardiness, and so begin awry the day which should open with all good omens. But, Cecil, I have a gift for thee, something I gave thy father on our marriage. I did think to keep it till thou shouldst be of age; but on the whole I would rather thou hadst it to remember this day by."

      So speaking, Elinor unlocked her jewel-chest of black oak bound with brass, and drew from within a pomander-box of gold, the under lid pierced with holes which permitted the fragrance to escape till it nearly filled the room with the mingled odor of rose attar and storax, civet and ambergris, the upper lid adorned with a miniature of Elinor Calvert painted on ivory and set in pearls like the picture of Cecil which she wore at her breast. The artist had worked as one who loves his task, and the delicate tints of neck and arms shone half-veiled by the creamy lace that fell over them. In the golden curls a red rose nestled, and around the throat glistened a necklace of rubies.

      "Mother!" exclaimed Cecil, "wert thou once as beautiful as that?"

      Elinor smiled; but it was not quite a happy smile.

      "Yes, once I was as fair as that, and in those days there were many to care whether I was fair or not. Now there be few either to know or care."

      "Nay, to me thou art still fair, Mother, and there is another who thinks so too."

      "Who is that?"

      "Thir Chrithtopher. I saw him looking at you last night, and, Mother, dost not think, since he thinks to deal so generously with us, it would be a fine thing for me to give him this portrait of thee to bind the bargain?"

      "Foolish baby, 'twill be time enough to think of that when he asks for it."

      "Then if he asks for it, I may give it – "

      "A safe promise truly," said Elinor, smiling this time with beaming eyes and cheeks, whose rose flush matched the coloring of the ivory portrait. "Now hasten with thy dressing."

      Cecil's head was so filled with thoughts of the pomander-box and his own greatness that his mother was fully dressed while he sat mooning over the lacing of his hose and breeches, and gazing with admiring fondness at the red roses on his holiday shoes.

      Three times Cousin Mary had called to him to make haste, and when at last he entered the hall every one had finished eating, and he was sent in disgrace to take his breakfast in the buttery. This was too great a blow for his new-swollen pride, and he fell to howling lustily, while the tears flowed into his cup of milk and salted it with their brine. The day which an hour ago had СКАЧАТЬ