Sir Ludar Part 35

'Twas pitiful to see him then drop on his knees, his face as white as the sheets, and with quaking lips beg for mercy.

"Oh, Humphrey!" he gasped; "forgive--I knew not what I was-- Yes, I was mad--forgive this once--"

"Forgive!" said I, "you ask the wrong person. You are on your knees; ask Him who is above to forgive you! 'Tis Him you have wronged, more than me. And when you have done, come back to bed, for I am weary."

I know not if he prayed, or what he did. But presently, when he came back to bed, he lay very still and cold, and when we rose in the morning never a word spake either of us of what had pa.s.sed that night.

But, as I expected, we were none the better friends for all that. For though he durst never lift his voice in my hearing again, he scowled at me under his brows, and, as I suppose, wished he had done what he tried to do that night. I found it best to let him be, even when he made up to Jeannette, which happened but seldom, and then little to his comfort.

But when, after a month or more, his articles being ended, he took his hat and left the shop for good, I was not surprised, nor were my master or mistress over-much cast down.

As for me, I had a shrewd guess Peter Stoupe had not yet done with me.

All went happily, then, in the house without Temple Bar. Only my little mistress held me off more than she had been wont, and was graver with me. Yet it was happiness to see she counted somewhat on my company, and scorned not to ask my arm whenever she needed its help.

Often and often she made me tell her of my journeyings, and of Ludar and the maiden. And her bright eyes would glisten as she heard how they were parted and what they had suffered for one another. And she longed to see both, and was ever wondering where they were and how they fared.

But the spring wore into summer, and the summer grew towards autumn, before a word of news came.

Then one Sunday, Will Peake, my old adversary, walked into the shop with a monstrous letter in his hand, tied round with blue silk and sealed black at either end.

I had seen Will often since I came back to London, but had always forgotten to tell him, that when I was put to it to advise Ludar where he might hear of me, I had told him to send to my brother 'prentice on London Bridge, who, if any, might be counted on to know where I was to be found.

So now, when a letter was come, Will was vastly wroth that he should be mixed up in the matter, and needed much satisfying that 'twas a sign of friends.h.i.+p and nothing else that made me give his name, he being--as I told him--the only trusty man of my acquaintance in London.

"I like it not, Humphrey Dexter," said he, tossing down the letter.

"The air is full of treason. Only to-day there is talk in the city of some new conspiracy in the North, and 'tis not safe to get a missive from so much as your lady-love. There, take it. I am rid of it; and, hark you, let no man know I had it in my fingers. Farewell."

The letter was in a great and notable hand, which, I was sure, did not belong to Ludar. Yet it was addressed:

"_To the worthy 'prentice Humphrey Dexter, by the hand of one Will Peake, a mercer's man on London Bridge, give these_--"

With beating heart, I took the letter to where Jeannette sat in the garden, and bade her break the seal.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

HOW I WAS CONCERNED IN TREASON AND LOVE.

The first words of the letter left me in no doubt as to who the writer might be.

"To a certain Hollander, once my servant, and honoured still to live in my memory. Know, my son of Neptune, fledgeling of the Nymphs, and half- brother to the Tritons, that he whom thou knewest once in Parna.s.sus'

grove (whither he himself led thy halting feet), respireth still in sighs for beauty and exhalations of sweet verse. Know, too, that he hath of late composed a notable and admirable epic in praise of the Sun, which, if it please Heaven to bring him, ere the year fall, to London, thou mayest have the high honour of setting in print, thereby a.s.sisting at the birth of an immortal.

"Know further, that after many bufferings from the jade Fortune, and tossing, such as s.h.i.+ps ne'er endured on thy brawling element, my Hollander, I am here in Chester, beloved of the Muse, yet ill-beholden to the men of the place, who, as the Mantuans their Maro, clapped me in ward because forsooth I stirred the rabble with my moving measures. The moon hath not kissed the golden locks of Galatea four times since I was let out. Now is no zephyr freer than I--or emptier. Yet hath heaven need of her needy sons, and the meanest of Olympus, denizens hath his part to play amidst the earthlings. Know, then, that on the second day after I had ceased to eat my bread at her Majesty's cost, I met, in eager haste, a certain Irish Achilles who knoweth more of war than verse, and whose arm is more terrible with the sword than is my hand with the pen. This Sir Ludar--such is grat.i.tude and reverence!--_O tempora! O mores_!--would have given me the go-by, had I not stood boldly in his way, that he might at least see how great an honour he avoided. When he saw me, to be brief, my Hollander, he honoured himself by seeing in me the G.o.d Mercury, who beareth messages to the dim regions of the earth. He bade me tell thee, by a means the receipt hereof will apprise thee, that the cause goeth perilously. What cause, I know not; but, be it what it may, it taketh him hence, on what, perchance, may be his last journey. He biddeth you remember your oath, and would have me advertise you that one Merriman hath been heard of in these parts, travelling for London, with a party, of whom one is the lady of the castle on the river, with her ward. He is a dark mysterious man, this Irish wolf-hound of thine, my Hollander, and, did I not suspect him to have a secret tooth for the olives of Parna.s.sus, I had not thus condescended to act as go between you. When I enquired of him concerning her, that incomparable swan, that bright and s.h.i.+ning star, that white snowflake, that Cupid's elder sister, my lady-love--to serve whom I counted as nought the perils of a certain fell voyage you wot of--when I enquired him of her, he asked me back, Did I desire to flounder in the castle moat? By which talk it appeared to me much care hath weakened his mind, and I mis...o...b.. me his present journey bodes no good. My Hollander, I beg not any man's bread, yet am I hard put to it to show the world that heaven doth not desert her favourites. If the pity of a 'prentice can reach from you to Chester, lend it me, I pray you, as I sit here gazing into the empyrean for my next meal. If I may, I shall shorten the s.p.a.ce betwixt us. Meanwhile, count for thyself a lodging in at least one poetic breast, which is that of thy patron and friend, Thomas Graves.

"_Post Scriptum_: I have overtook my messenger--a poor country carrier-- to tell thee strange news. This Ludar hath returned suddenly from his journey in the custody of a troop. I saw him marched through the streets but just now, amid cries of 'Treason!' 'Away with him!' 'Hang him!' sad to hear. The talk runneth that he is party in some great conspiracy against her glorious Majesty, whose foes may Heaven confound!

If it be true, then is our Achilles wounded in the heel, and is like enough to journey from here to Tyburn free of charges. Farewell, from thy well-wisher."

This letter cast me into terrible woe; for it was plain by it that Ludar was in mortal peril, and without a friend to help him. I could do naught, for I knew not where he was taken, or if I did, what could I, outside a stone wall, do for him within? Besides, the message about the maiden put a service on me I was bound to fulfil. Yet what could I do?

Jeannette saw my trouble and shared it; and, being a shrewd la.s.s, advised me to go to Will Peake and hear what was this news of a new- discovered treason, and who were in it?

So I went and found the Bridge (Sunday as it was), in a flutter. Will Peake I could not see, but from another gossip I heard that news was come of a terrible plot to murder her sacred Majesty and place on her throne, with the help of Spanish rogues, the upstart Mary of Scotland.

Many wild stories were afloat concerning the business. One, that not a few of her Majesty's trusted advisers were mixed in it; others, that the Scotchwoman herself was prime mover; another, that it was the work of the Spanish king, whose armies were on the coast waiting the signal to land.

But as we stood, there came a mighty shouting from the Tower Hill, and, running thither, we saw a man in a cart being conducted by twenty hors.e.m.e.n to the prison. He was clad as a papist priest--yet, when I looked at him, I seemed to know his face.

"Who goes there?" I asked of one who stood near.

"The head and front of it all," said he; "a renegade priest, Ballard by name."

"Who hath travelled," said another, "on this accursed business in the garb of a soldier by the name of Captain Fortescue."

"Fortescue!" cried I. "Why, to be sure, it was he! I knew I had seen him."

"You saw him, where? what know you of this?" asked several persons round, suspiciously. "If you be a friend of his, get you up on the cart beside him."

I had a mind to make a rush that way, if haply I might get a single word with the traitor as to where Ludar was. But I might as soon have tried to get within hail of the Scotch Queen herself, so closely was he fenced in.

"He is no friend," growled I, "but a vile enemy and traitor, whom I would to G.o.d I had run through the body when I had the chance at Carlisle, months since."

Then to avoid more questions and get away from the rabble, I hastened back and told all to Jeannette. She was very grave. "What think you now?" she asked.

"I can think nothing," said I, "save that, whatever has befallen Ludar, he could not knowingly be guilty of plotting against the life of a woman, even if she be the Queen herself. Jeannette," said I, "I could no more believe that than I would believe you to be unkind or untrue."

She smiled at that and said she, too, could not think so ill of this Ludar of mine.

As the days pa.s.sed, news came in thick and fast. The plot, we heard, was a devilish one to murder the Queen and her ministers, and give England up to the heretic Spaniard. Men stood aghast as they heard of it. Presently came word that the worst of the traitors were in hiding in London, being mostly young gentlemen of the Court, who had fed at the table of the very Lady they plotted to slay. Try all I would, I could hear nothing of Ludar. Nor durst I name him to my comrades, for fear I should bring him mischief thereby.

One day in the middle of August it was, a man came into our shop in hot haste to tell Master Walgrave that the company had been taken, hidden in a barn in Harrow. Never shall I forget the joy of the City as the news spread like wildfire through the wards. No work did we 'prentices do that day. We marched shouting through the streets, calling for vengeance on the Queen's enemies, and waiting till they should be brought in, on their way to the Tower.

As for me, my joy was mingled with strange trouble; for, if Ludar should be among them--

"The leader of them is one Babington," said Will Peake, "and besides him are half-a-dozen dogs as foul--English, all of them."

"Save one," said another, "who I hear is Irish."

"Iris.h.!.+" cried I, as white as paper. "What is his name?"

"Not Dexter," said the fellow, looking at me in amaze. "Why, man, what ails you?"

"Tell me his name, as you love me," said I.

"How should I know the name of every cowardly hound that walks the streets? Go and ask them that can tell you."

I walked away miserable, and waited at the Aldersgate to see the prisoners come by.

When at last the cry was raised, I scarcely durst look up, for fear that among them should tower the form of Ludar. But when I lifted my eyes and saw only six hang-dog men, who held their hands to their ears to keep out the yelling of the mob, and shrunk closer to their guards to save them from a worse fate than the hangman's, the beating of my heart eased. For he was not amongst them. So joyful was I that I could even lend my voice for a while to the general cry, and, when night fell, bring my torch to the flaming barrels that blazed on Finsbury Fields.