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Woodstock; or, The Cavalier

S >> Sir Walter Scott >> Woodstock; or, The Cavalier




"I did; but that seems to have been only part of your errand--something
there seemed to be which applied particularly to me."

"It was a fancy--a strange mistake," answered Everard. "May I ask if you
have been abroad this evening?"

"Certainly not," she replied. "I have small temptation to wander from my
present home, poor as it is; and whilst here, I have important duties to
discharge. But why does Colonel Everard ask so strange a question?"

"Tell me in turn, why your cousin Markham has lost the name of
friendship and kindred, and even of some nearer feeling, and then I will
answer you, Alice?"

"It is soon answered," she said. "When you drew your sword against my
father's cause--almost against his person--I studied, more than I should
have done, to find excuse for you. I knew, that is, I thought I knew
your high feelings of public duty--I knew the opinions in which you had
been bred up; and I said, I will not, even for this, cast him off--he
opposes his King because he is loyal to his country. You endeavoured to
avert the great and concluding tragedy of the 30th of January; and it
confirmed me in my opinion, that Markham Everard might be misled, but
could not be base or selfish."

"And what has changed your opinion, Alice? or who dare," said Everard,
reddening, "attach such epithets to the name of Markham Everard?"

"I am no subject," she said, "for exercising your valour, Colonel
Everard, nor do I mean to offend. But you will find enough of others who
will avow, that Colonel Everard is truckling to the usurper Cromwell,
and that all his fair pretexts of forwarding his country's liberties,
are but a screen for driving a bargain with the successful encroacher,
and obtaining the best terms he can for himself and his family."

"For myself--never!"

"But for your family you have--Yes, I am well assured that you have
pointed out to the military tyrant, the way in which he and his satraps
may master the government. Do you think my father or I would accept an
asylum purchased at the price of England's liberty, and your honour?"

"Gracious Heaven, Alice, what is this? You accuse me of pursuing the
very course which so lately had your approbation!"

"When you spoke with authority of your father, and recommended our
submission to the existing government, such as it was, I own I
thought--that my father's grey head might, without dishonour, have
remained under the roof where it had so long been sheltered. But did
your father sanction your becoming the adviser of yonder ambitious
soldier to a new course of innovation, and his abettor in the
establishment of a new species of tyranny?--It is one thing to submit to
oppression, another to be the agent of tyrants--And O, Markham--their
bloodhound!"

"How! bloodhound?--what mean you?--I own it is true I could see with
content the wounds of this bleeding country stanched, even at the
expense of beholding Cromwell, after his matchless rise, take a yet
farther step to power--but to be his bloodhound! What is your meaning?"

"It is false, then?--I thought I could swear it had been false."

"What, in the name of God, is it you ask?"

"It is false that you are engaged to betray the young King of Scotland?"

"Betray him! _I_ betray him, or any fugitive? Never! I would he were
well out of England--I would lend him my aid to escape, were he in the
house at this instant; and think in acting so I did his enemies good
service, by preventing their soiling themselves with his blood--but
betray him, never!"

"I knew it--I was sure it was impossible. Oh, be yet more honest;
disengage yourself from yonder gloomy and ambitious soldier! Shun him
and his schemes, which are formed in injustice, and can only be realized
in yet more blood!"

"Believe me," replied Everard, "that I choose the line of policy best
befitting the times."

"Choose that," she said, "which best befits duty, Markham--which best
befits truth and honour. Do your duty, and let Providence decide the
rest.--Farewell! we tempt my father's patience too far--you know his
temper--farewell, Markham."

She extended her hand, which he pressed to his lips, and left the
apartment. A silent bow to his uncle, and a sign to Wildrake, whom he
found in the kitchen of the cabin, were the only tokens of recognition
exhibited, and leaving the hut, he was soon mounted, and, with his
companion, advanced on his return to the Lodge.

* * * * *

CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.


Deeds are done on earth
Which have their punishment ere the earth closes
Upon the perpetrators. Be it the working
Of the remorse-stirr'd fancy, or the vision,
Distinct and real, of unearthly being,
All ages witness, that beside the couch
Of the fell homicide oft stalks the ghost
Of him he slew, and shows the shadowy wound.
OLD PLAY.

Everard had come to Joceline's hut as fast as horse could bear him, and
with the same impetuosity of purpose as of speed. He saw no choice in
the course to be pursued, and felt in his own imagination the strongest
right to direct, and even reprove, his cousin, beloved as she was, on
account of the dangerous machinations with which she appeared to have
connected herself. He returned slowly, and in a very different mood.

Not only had Alice, prudent as beautiful, appeared completely free from
the weakness of conduct which seemed to give him some authority over
her, but her views of policy, if less practicable, were so much more
direct and noble than his own, as led him to question whether he had not
compromised himself too rashly with Cromwell, even although the state of
the country was so greatly divided and torn by faction, that the
promotion of the General to the possession of the executive government
seemed the only chance of escaping a renewal of the Civil War. The more
exalted and purer sentiments of Alice lowered him in his own eyes; and
though unshaken in his opinion, that it were better the vessel should be
steered by a pilot having no good title to the office, than that she
should run upon the breakers, he felt that he was not espousing the most
direct, manly, and disinterested side of the question.

As he rode on, immersed in these unpleasant contemplations, and
considerably lessened in his own esteem by what had happened, Wildrake,
who rode by his side, and was no friend to long silence, began to enter
into conversation. "I have been thinking, Mark," said he, "that if you
and I had been called to the bar--as, by the by, has been in danger of
happening to me in more senses than one--I say, had we become
barristers, I would have had the better oiled tongue of the two--the
fairer art of persuasion."

"Perhaps so," replied Everard, "though I never heard thee use any, save
to induce an usurer to lend thee money, or a taverner to abate a
reckoning."

"And yet this day, or rather night, I could have, as I think, made a
conquest which baffled you."

"Indeed?" said the Colonel, becoming attentive.

"Why, look you," said Wildrake, "it was a main object with you to induce
Mistress Alice Lee--By Heaven, she is an exquisite creature--I approve
of your taste, Mark--I say, you desire to persuade her, and the stout
old Trojan her father, to consent to return to the Lodge, and live there
quietly, and under connivance, like gentlefolk, instead of lodging in a
hut hardly fit to harbour a Tom of Bedlam."

"Thou art right; such, indeed, was a great part of my object in this
visit," answered Everard.

"But perhaps you also expected to visit there yourself, and so keep
watch over pretty Mistress Lee--eh?"

"I never entertained so selfish a thought," said Everard; "and if this
nocturnal disturbance at the mansion were explained and ended, I would
instantly take my departure."

"Your friend Noll would expect something more from you," said Wildrake;
"he would expect, in case the knight's reputation for loyalty should
draw any of our poor exiles and wanderers about the Lodge, that you
should be on the watch and ready to snap them. In a word, as far as I
can understand his long-winded speeches, he would have Woodstock a trap,
your uncle and his pretty daughter the bait of toasted-cheese--craving
your Chloe's pardon for the comparison--you the spring-fall which should
bar their escape, his Lordship himself being the great grimalkin to whom
they are to be given over to be devoured."

"Dared Cromwell mention this to thee in express terms?" said Everard,
pulling up his horse, and stopping in the midst of the road.

"Nay, not in express terms, which I do not believe he ever used in his
life; you might as well expect a drunken man to go straight forward; but
he insinuated as much to me, and indicated that you might deserve well
of him--Gadzo, the damnable proposal sticks in my throat--by betraying
our noble and rightful King, (here he pulled off his hat,) whom God
grant in health and wealth long to reign, as the worthy clergyman says,
though I fear just now his Majesty is both sick and sorry, and never a
penny in his pouch to boot."

"This tallies with what Alice hinted," said Everard; "but how could she
know it? didst thou give her any hint of such a thing?"

"I!" replied the cavalier, "I, who never saw Mistress Alice in my life
till to-night, and then only for an instant--zooks, man, how is that
possible?"

"True," replied Everard, and seemed lost in thought. At length he
spoke--"I should call Cromwell to account for his bad opinion of me;
for, even though not seriously expressed, but, as I am convinced it was,
with the sole view of proving you, and perhaps myself, it was,
nevertheless, a misconstruction to be resented."

"I'll carry a cartel for you, with all my heart and soul," said
Wildrake; "and turn out with his godliness's second, with as good will
as I ever drank a glass of sack."

"Pshaw," replied Everard, "those in his high place fight no single
combats. But tell me, Roger Wildrake, didst thou thyself think me
capable of the falsehood and treachery implied in such a message?"

"I!" exclaimed Wildrake. "Markham Everard, you have been my early
friend, my constant benefactor. When Colchester was reduced, you saved
me from the gallows, and since that thou hast twenty times saved me from
starving. But, by Heaven, if I thought you capable of such villany as
your General recommended,--by yonder blue sky, and all the works of
creation which it bends over, I would stab you with my own hand!"

"Death," replied Everard, "I should indeed deserve, but not from you,
perhaps; but fortunately, I cannot, if I would, be guilty of the
treachery you would punish. Know that I had this day secret notice, and
from Cromwell himself, that the young Man has escaped by sea from
Bristol."

"Now, God Almighty be blessed, who protected him through so many
dangers!" exclaimed Wildrake. "Huzza!--Up hearts, cavaliers!--Hey for
cavaliers!--God bless King Charles!--Moon and stars, catch my hat!"--and
he threw it up as high as he could into the air. The celestial bodies
which he invoked did not receive the present dispatched to them; but, as
in the case of Sir Henry Lee's scabbard, an old gnarled oak became a
second time the receptacle of a waif and stray of loyal enthusiasm.
Wildrake looked rather foolish at the circumstance, and his friend took
the opportunity of admonishing him.

"Art thou not ashamed to bear thee so like a schoolboy?"

"Why," said Wildrake, "I have but sent a Puritan's hat upon a loyal
errand. I laugh to think how many of the schoolboys thou talk'st of will
be cheated into climbing the pollard next year, expecting to find the
nest of some unknown bird in yonder unmeasured margin of felt."

"Hush now, for God's sake, and let us speak calmly," said Everard.
"Charles has escaped, and I am glad of it. I would willingly have seen
him on his father's throne by composition, but not by the force of the
Scottish army, and the incensed and vengeful royalists."

"Master Markham Everard," began the cavalier, interrupting him--"Nay,
hush, dear Wildrake," said Everard; "let us not dispute a point on which
we cannot agree, and give me leave to go on.--I say, since the young Man
has escaped, Cromwell's offensive and injurious stipulation falls to the
ground; and I see not why my uncle and his family should not again enter
their own house, under the same terms of connivance as many other
royalists. What may be incumbent on me is different, nor can I determine
my course until I have an interview with the General, which, as I think,
will end in his confessing that he threw in this offensive proposal to
sound us both. It is much in his manner; for he is blunt, and never sees
or feels the punctilious honour which the gallants of the day stretch to
such delicacy."

"I'll acquit him of having any punctilio about him," said Wildrake,
"either touching honour or honesty. Now, to come back to where we
started. Supposing you were not to reside in person at the Lodge, and to
forbear even visiting there, unless on invitation, when such a thing can
be brought about, I tell you frankly, I think your uncle and his
daughter might be induced to come back to the Lodge, and reside there as
usual. At least the clergyman, that worthy old cock, gave me to hope as
much."

"He had been hasty in bestowing his confidence," said Everard.

"True," replied Wildrake; "he confided in me at once; for he instantly
saw my regard for the Church. I thank Heaven I never passed a clergyman
in his canonicals without pulling my hat off--(and thou knowest, the
most desperate duel I ever fought was with young Grayless of the Inner
Temple, for taking the wall of the Reverend Dr. Bunce)--Ah, I can gain a
chaplain's ear instantly. Gadzooks, they know whom they have to trust to
in such a one as I."

"Dost thou think, then," said Colonel Everard, "or rather does this
clergyman think, that if they were secure of intrusion from me, the
family would return to the Lodge, supposing the intruding Commissioners
gone, and this nocturnal disturbance explained and ended?"

"The old Knight," answered Wildrake, "may be wrought upon by the Doctor
to return, if he is secure against intrusion. As for disturbances, the
stout old boy, so far as I can learn in two minutes' conversation,
laughs at all this turmoil as the work of mere imagination, the
consequence of the remorse of their own evil consciences; and says that
goblin or devil was never heard of at Woodstock, until it became the
residence of such men as they, who have now usurped the possession."

"There is more than imagination in it," said Everard. "I have personal
reason to know there is some conspiracy carrying on, to render the house
untenable by the Commissioners. I acquit my uncle of accession to such a
silly trick; but I must see it ended ere I can agree to his and my
cousin's residing where such a confederacy exists; for they are likely
to be considered as the contrivers of such pranks, be the actual agent
who he may."

"With reference to your better acquaintance with the gentleman, Everard,
I should rather suspect the old father of Puritans (I beg your pardon
again) has something to do with the business; and if so, Lucifer will
never look near the true old Knight's beard, nor abide a glance of
yonder maiden's innocent blue eyes. I will uphold them as safe as pure
gold in a miser's chest."

"Sawest thou aught thyself, which makes thee think thus?"

"Not a quill of the devil's pinion saw I," replied Wildrake. "He
supposes himself too secure of an old cavalier, who must steal, hang, or
drown, in the long run, so he gives himself no trouble to look after the
assured booty. But I heard the serving-fellows prate of what they had
seen and heard; and though their tales were confused enough, yet if
there was any truth among them at all, I should say the devil must have
been in the dance.--But, holla! here comes some one upon us.--Stand,
friend--who art thou?"

"A poor day-labourer in the great work of England--Joseph Tomkins by
name--Secretary to a godly and well-endowed leader in this poor
Christian army of England, called General Harrison."

"What news, Master Tomkins?" said Everard; "and why are you on the road
at this late hour?"

"I speak to the worthy Colonel Everard, as I judge?" said Tomkins; "and
truly I am glad of meeting your honour. Heaven knows, I need such
assistance as yours.--Oh, worthy Master Everard!--Here has been a
sounding of trumpets, and a breaking of vials, and a pouring forth,
and"--

"Prithee, tell me in brief, what is the matter--where is thy
master--and, in a word, what has happened?"

"My master is close by, parading it in the little meadow, beside the
hugeous oak, which is called by the name of the late Man; ride but two
steps forward, and you may see him walking swiftly to and fro, advancing
all the while the naked weapon."

Upon proceeding as directed, but with as little noise as possible, they
descried a man, whom of course they concluded must be Harrison, walking
to and fro beneath the King's oak, as a sentinel under arms, but with
more wildness of demeanour. The tramp of the horses did not escape his
ear; and they heard him call out, as if at the head of the brigade--
"Lower pikes against cavalry!--Here comes Prince Rupert--Stand fast, and
you shall turn them aside, as a bull would toss a cur-dog. Lower your
pikes still, my hearts, the end secured against your foot--down on your
right knee, front rank--spare not for the spoiling of your blue
aprons.--Ha--Zerobabel--ay, that is the word!"

"In the name of Heaven, about whom or what is he talking" said Everard;
"wherefore does he go about with his weapon drawn?"

"Truly, sir, when aught disturbs my master, General Harrison, he is
something rapt in the spirit, and conceives that he is commanding a
reserve of pikes at the great battle of Armageddon--and for his weapon,
alack, worthy sir, wherefore should he keep Sheffield steel in calves'
leather, when there are fiends to be combated--incarnate fiends on
earth, and raging infernal fiends under the earth?"

"This is intolerable," said Everard. "Listen to me, Tomkins. Thou art
not now in the pulpit, and I desire none of thy preaching language. I
know thou canst speak intelligibly when thou art so minded. Remember, I
may serve or harm thee; and as you hope or fear any thing on my part,
answer straight-forward--What has happened to drive out thy master to
the wild wood at this time of night?"

"Forsooth, worthy and honoured sir, I will speak with the precision I
may. True it is, and of verity, that the breath of man, which is in his
nostrils, goeth forth and returneth"--

"Hark you, sir," said Colonel Everard, "take care where you ramble in
your correspondence with me. You have heard how at the great battle of
Dunbar in Scotland, the General himself held a pistol to the head of
Lieutenant Hewcreed, threatening to shoot him through the brain if he
did not give up holding forth, and put his squadron in line to the
front. Take care, sir."

"Verily, the lieutenant then charged with an even and unbroken order,"
said Tomkins, "and bore a thousand plaids and bonnets over the beach
before him into the sea. Neither shall I pretermit or postpone your
honour's commands, but speedily obey them, and that without delay."

"Go to, fellow; thou knowest what I would have," said Everard; "speak at
once; I know thou canst if thou wilt. Trusty Tomkins is better known
than he thinks for."

"Worthy sir," said Tomkins, in a much less periphrastic style, "I will
obey your worship as far as the spirit will permit. Truly, it was not an
hour since, when my worshipful master being at table with Master Bibbet
and myself, not to mention the worshipful Master Bletson and Colonel
Desborough, and behold there was a violent knocking at the gate, as of
one in haste. Now, of a certainty, so much had our household been
harassed with witches and spirits, and other objects of sound and sight,
that the sentinels could not be brought to abide upon their posts
without doors, and it was only by a provision of beef and strong liquors
that we were able to maintain a guard of three men in the hall, who
nevertheless ventured not to open the door, lest they should be
surprised with some of the goblins wherewith their imaginations were
overwhelmed. And they heard the knocking, which increased until it
seemed that the door was well-nigh about to be beaten down. Worthy
Master Bibbet was a little overcome with liquor, (as is his fashion,
good man, about this time of the evening,) not that he is in the least
given to ebriety, but simply, that since the Scottish campaign he hath
had a perpetual ague, which obliges him so to nourish his frame against
the damps of the night; wherefore, as it is well known to your honour
that I discharge the office of a faithful servant, as well to
Major-General Harrison, and the other Commissioners, as to my just and
lawful master, Colonel Desborough"--

"I know all that.--And now that thou art trusted by both, I pray to
Heaven thou mayest merit the trust," said Colonel Everard.

"And devoutly do I pray," said Tomkins, "that your worshipful prayers
may be answered with favour; for certainly to be, and to be called and
entitled, Honest Joe, and Trusty Tomkins, is to me more than ever would
be an Earl's title, were such things to be granted anew in this
regenerated government."

"Well, go on--go on--or if thou dalliest much longer, I will make bold
to dispute the article of your honesty. I like short tales, sir, and
doubt what is told with a long unnecessary train of words."

"Well, good sir, be not hasty. As I said before, the doors rattled till
you would have thought the knocking was reiterated in every room of the
Palace. The bell rung out for company, though we could not find that any
one tolled the clapper, and the guards let off their firelocks, merely
because they knew not what better to do. So, Master Bibbet being, as I
said, unsusceptible of his duty, I went down with my poor rapier to the
door, and demanded who was there; and I was answered in a voice, which,
I must say, was much like another voice, that it was one wanting
Major-General Harrison. So, as it was then late, I answered mildly, that
General Harrison was betaking himself to his rest, and that any who
wished to speak to him must return on the morrow morning, for that after
nightfall the door of the Palace, being in the room of a garrison, would
be opened to no one. So, the voice replied, and bid me open directly,
without which he would blow the folding leaves of the door into the
middle of the hall. And therewithal the noise recommenced, that we
thought the house would have fallen; and I was in some measure
constrained to open the door, even like a besieged garrison which can
hold out no longer."

"By my honour, and it was stoutly done of you, I must say," said
Wildrake,--who had been listening with much interest. "I am a bold
dare-devil enough, yet when I had two inches of oak plank between the
actual fiend and me, hang him that would demolish the barrier between
us, say I--I would as soon, when aboard, bore a hole in the ship, and
let in the waves; for you know we always compare the devil to the deep
sea."

"Prithee, peace, Wildrake," said Everard, "and let him go on with his
history.--Well, and what saw'st thou when the door was opened?--the
great Devil with his horns and claws thou wilt say, no doubt."

"No, sir, I will say nothing but what is true. When I undid the door,
one man stood there, and he, to seeming, a man of no extraordinary
appearance. He was wrapped in a taffeta cloak of a scarlet colour, and
with a red lining. He seemed as if he might have been in his time a very
handsome man, but there was something of paleness and sorrow in his
face--a long love-lock and long hair he wore, even after the abomination
of the cavaliers, and the unloveliness, as learned Master Prynne well
termed it, of love-locks--a jewel in his ear--a blue scarf over his
shoulder, like a military commander for the King, and a hat with a white
plume, bearing a peculiar hatband."

"Some unhappy officer of cavaliers, of whom so many are in hiding, and
seeking shelter through the country," briefly replied Everard.

"True, worthy sir--right as a judicious exposition. But there was
something about this man (if he was a man) whom I, for one, could not
look upon without trembling; nor the musketeers,--who were in the hall,
without betraying much alarm, and swallowing, as they will themselves
aver, the very bullets--which they had in their mouths for loading their
carabines and muskets. Nay, the wolf and deer-dogs, that are the
fiercest of their kind, fled from this visitor, and crept into holes and
corners, moaning and wailing in a low and broken tone. He came into the
middle of the hall, and still he seemed no more than an ordinary man,
only somewhat fantastically dressed, in a doublet of black velvet pinked
upon scarlet satin under his cloak, a jewel in his ear, with large roses
in his shoes, and a kerchief in his hand, which he sometimes pressed
against his left side."

"Gracious Heavens!" said Wildrake, coming close up to Everard, and
whispering in his ear, with accents which terror rendered tremulous, (a
mood of mind most unusual to the daring man, who seemed now overcome by
it)--"it must have been poor Dick Robison the player, in the very dress
in which I have seen him play Philaster--ay, and drunk a jolly bottle
with him after it at the Mermaid! I remember how many frolics we had
together, and all his little fantastic fashions. He served for his old
master, Charles, in Mohun's troop, and was murdered by this butcher's
dog, as I have heard, after surrender, at the battle of Naseby-field."

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