The Candlemass Road. George Fraser MacDonald

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       Chapter 3

      NOW, IF MASTER CARLETON hoped to puff his consequence to my lady and the world, by making show to hand her down and conduct her, he had little good of his ambition, for ere he had his bonnet off the cotch door was wide and she was by him and indoors in the blink of an eye, so that we had barely but the whisk of her cloak, and he with his hand out, into which her waiting woman a stout dame that followed after was like to give her basket, but that he made haste to withdraw in some snuff. So we must all in again, not a little abashed, and wondering at her suddenness, so that none put himself first, and ’twas myself, with Hodgson twitching at my sleeve, that led into the hall, and Master Carleton aloof behind, with, as they say here, his nose out of joint.

      My lady stood before the fire, which was all but out and reeking, in which it matched her mood, as I soon saw. Yet was I mum at first, in awe of her appearance, which I had not seen such for many a year. She was of a middle height but lordly carriage, very straight and slender, and, as I thought at first, of a mould to beguile Solomon himself, so fair and pale of face like an angel in a picture, with great eyes of darkest blue, and for her hair, it was white shining gold like an infant’s, which in their elders is commonly artifice, but I think hers was not. A seeming beauty, though on looking narrowly at my more time, her nose was long and her chin something pointed, yet was she handsome enough for all that, and could smile right prettily, having excellent teeth, though her wonted mien was cold and very proud, as now, with thunder between her brows. For her attire, it would have sat upon a queen, being of rare richness, to wit, a long mulberry coat with gold buttons, open at the throat, for she wore a little ruff all sewn with pearls, and above a fur beaver, daintily cocked, and on her hands a muff of like fur sable, and beneath a fine green gown shotten with gold flames that was like to set our country ladies a-gape. So was I mum, staring at such a portent female, in awe not only of her person and apparel but of that high spirit that shone from her as would have overborne the boldest, young and slight though she was. We had a taste of her salt when, I having remembered myself and bade her welcome, she gave me but a glance and cut me short with:

      “Which of you is my bailiff, Hodgkin?”

      At that the bailiff, dismayed to hear himself singled so bodefully, answered haltingly that his name was Hodgson, at her service, at which she demanded coldly, had he care of her tenants, to which he assenting, she let drive such an angry blast as set his teeth a-chatter, nor minded the boy Wattie then coming in with logs, who dropped them clattering at her feet, and swore, and scrambled there before her, so much was she moved.

      “And will you tell me, bailiff,” quo’ she, “what care you have, when I find myself petitioned on the road by a poor clown with a bloodied head, got of Scotch robbers, that came to you for help, whereon you set about him cruelly, and drove him forth with kicks? Well, sirrah – aye or no?”

      Hodgson, seeing that George Bell had been beforehand with his grievance and kindled her to a fine rage, fell a-tremble, and mumbled that if she would hear him – and there his courage failed and he stood shuffling.

      “What I would hear,” says she, dangerously soft and her finger tapping, “when you have done shuffling and got your tongue, is aye or no. ‘Aye, but’, you say? It is very well. We shall talk anon, Hodgson or Hodkin – nay, never stir, shuffle yet a while.” And to Wat, at her feet: “Your logs will not get up of themselves, fellow! Gather them, boy, to it!”

      Then she threw off her back cloak and muff, and looked about, while her maid unbuttoned her long coat, but gave no heed to us who stood dumb, and seemed in no great delight of what she saw, playing with her gloves the while.

      “This is all your charge, Susan,” says she. “Wine and water, and marchpane, and bid Master Lightfoot in to me. See that this lout mends the fire without putting the house alight, bid the grooms look to Angel and Lycidas, for these roads are fit to kill poor beasts, and Angel limps o’ the right forefoot.” And then of a sudden to Wat, that was dropping timbers broadcast, “Oh, try again, boy, and if you drop ’em on yon Hodgson’s toes it skills not, he shall skip of his own accord presently! ‘Aye, madam, but’, forsooth! Susan, bring mine own cup, and others for these gentlemen, for I doubt if there is a pot uncracked this side of York. Has this place been aired in a twelvemonth? If we are not to suffocate, put some sweet herbs on the fire, we had as well be in a stable!”

      All this in a rush of words, when, seeing my amaze, she said more civilly: “Oh, sir, you wonder that I seem to take your welcome amiss, but I am in a rare fury, to see a poor man hurt, and a fat rogue blinking that gives no remedy, or even excuse, oh, it makes me mad! I thank you kindly, and these gentlemen, we shall know each other anon.” And at once falls railing at Wattie, for his handlessness. “Oh, fellow, kick them before you like a football, so shall you be done sooner! Susan, bid one help him, afore he does a mischief! Now, sirs, we shall have order presently, I dare say. You, sir (this to me), by your habit should be my grandsire’s papist priest. Give you good day, sir, for I will not call you father, but thank you for your courtesy. You may make these gentlemen known to me.”

      So I did, first Master Carleton, who with a fine bow would have come forward at leisure to address her, but she marred it for him by turning aside to Susan, which may have been by design, for it took him in his preamble, so must he start again, while my lady gave sweet apology. And then Yarrow, who smiled on her boldly and preened himself, whereat she began to eat her marchpane and bade Susan give refreshment to all of us there, and to Master Lightfoot, her man of affairs, who was come in, one of your portly sleek flat-caps with a wealth of words on both sides, not aye, not no, but mayhap, of which we had surfeit when she put to him the matter of Bell, for she seemed to set that before all, that had not yet changed her shoon, but sat forward in her great chair, cup in hand, while they strove to make all clear to her.

      Now, you have heard it and need not that I weary you with it again, but I, taking no part, yet lightly marked how each spoke his side in it, save Yarrow, who was silent and left off not gaping at her like a clown at the fair when he sees the tricksters. Hodgson made poor shift to defend himself, and Master Carleton must needs instruct her, but in a lofty sort that I could see had her teeth on edge, and Master Lightfoot confirmed him on blackmail, how, albeit it was an unlawful and hateful thing, yet were poor men wont to pay, at which she cried out on them, was this how the law was kept, and Master Carleton pointed to redress before the Wardens, and that it was no great matter, and “the custom of the country”, and no fault of any, save Bell himself, that looked to move my lady’s pity. But ever she kept to the point, a very Portia, that here were fell thieves harassing a tenant of hers to his hurt and ruin, and how was it possible that a creature of the Dacres should pay criminal rent to such leeches, and no help at law or any way. And through all my poor bailiff knuckled his head and nay-but-madamed her, and the Land Sergeant’s head higher by the moment, and Lightfoot wagging on to try the patience of a saint, and she no saint that sat there, but a lady justly moved, that I was right glad to see, yet sorry to see her at such a rough education as she could hardly believe, that here were Queen’s officers of the peace, but no help from them. For Carleton budged not from saying it was not in his charge, which was for Gilsland only, not Triermain, at which the bailiff shot me a great wink of the eye, as he would say “Said I not so?”

      So we had to and fro of “Nay, will my lady but hear me, she doth me wrong” and “Peace, rogue, you kicked him black and blue, go shuffle again!” and “Under correction, madam, here is great ado for a snivelling arrant fellow that hath brought the mischief on himself” and “a God’s name, sir, are people of mine in thrall to Scotch thieves?” and “I did not invent blackmail, lady, nor the sorry state of the world”, and “in truth, my lady, the Land Sergeant has the right of it, ’tis matter for the Wardens”, and on that conclusion they fell СКАЧАТЬ