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<h2> CHAPTER IX IN WHICH TWO DRINK OF ONE CUP </h2>
<p>WAITING for us in the doorway we found Master Jeremy Sparrow, relieved of
his battered armor, his face wreathed with hospitable smiles, and a posy
in his hand.</p>
<p>"When the Spaniard turned out to be only the King's minion, I slipped away
to see that all was in order," he said genially. "Here are roses, madam,
that you are not to treat as you did those others."</p>
<p>She took them from him with a smile, and we went into the house to find
three fair large rooms, something bare of furnishing, but clean and sweet,
with here and there a bow pot of newly gathered flowers, a dish of wardens
on the table, and a cool air laden with the fragrance of the pine blowing
through the open window.</p>
<p>"This is your demesne," quoth the minister. "I have worthy Master Bucke's
own chamber upstairs. Ah, good man, I wish he may quickly recover his
strength and come back to his own, and so relieve me of the burden of all
this luxury. I, whom nature meant for an eremite, have no business in
kings' chambers such as these."</p>
<p>His devout faith in his own distaste for soft living and his longings
after a hermit's cell was an edifying spectacle. So was the evident pride
which he took in his domain, the complacence with which he pointed out the
shady, well-stocked garden, and the delight with which he produced and set
upon the table a huge pasty and a flagon of wine.</p>
<p>"It is a fast day with me," he said. "I may neither eat nor drink until
the sun goes down. The flesh is a strong giant, very full of pride and
lust of living, and the spirit must needs keep watch and ward, seizing
every opportunity to mortify and deject its adversary. Goodwife Allen is
still gaping with the crowd at the fort, and your man and maid have not
yet come, but I shall be overhead if you need aught. Mistress Percy must
want rest after her ride."</p>
<p>He was gone, leaving us two alone together. She stood opposite me, beside
the window, from which she had not moved since entering the room. The
color was still in her cheeks, the light in her eyes, and she still held
the roses with which Sparrow had heaped her arms. I was moving to the
table.</p>
<p>"Wait!" she said, and I turned toward her again.</p>
<p>"Have you no questions to ask?" she demanded.</p>
<p>I shook my head. "None, madam."</p>
<p>"I was the King's ward!" she cried.</p>
<p>I bowed, but spoke no word, though she waited for me.</p>
<p>"If you will listen," she said at last, proudly, and yet with a pleading
sweetness,—"if you will listen, I will tell you how it was that I—that
I came to wrong you so."</p>
<p>"I am listening, madam," I replied.</p>
<p>She stood against the light, the roses pressed to her bosom, her dark eyes
upon me, her head held high. "My mother died when I was born; my father,
years ago. I was the King's ward. While the Queen lived she kept me with
her,—she loved me, I think; and the King too was kind,—would
have me sing to him, and would talk to me about witchcraft and the
Scriptures, and how rebellion to a king is rebellion to God. When I was
sixteen, and he tendered me marriage with a Scotch lord, I, who loved the
gentleman not, never having seen him, prayed the King to take the value of
my marriage and leave me my freedom. He was so good to me then that the
Scotch lord was wed elsewhere, and I danced at the wedding with a mind at
ease. Time passed, and the King was still my very good lord. Then, one
black day, my Lord Carnal came to court, and the King looked at him
oftener than at his Grace of Buckingham. A few months, and my lord's wish
was the King's will. To do this new favorite pleasure he forgot his
ancient kindness of heart; yea, and he made the law of no account. I was
his kinswoman, and under my full age; he would give my hand to whom he
chose. He chose to give it to my Lord Carnal."</p>
<p>She broke off, and turned her face from me toward the slant sunshine
without the window. Thus far she had spoken quietly, with a certain proud
patience of voice and bearing; but as she stood there in a silence which I
did not break, the memory of her wrongs brought the crimson to her cheeks
and the anger to her eyes. Suddenly she burst forth passionately: "The
King is the King! What is a subject's will to clash with his? What weighs
a woman's heart against his whim? Little cared he that my hand held back,
grew cold at the touch of that other hand in which he would have put it.
What matter if my will was against that marriage? It was but the will of a
girl, and must be broken. All my world was with the King; I, who stood
alone, was but a woman, young and untaught. Oh, they pressed me sore, they
angered me to the very heart! There was not one to fight my battle, to
help me in that strait, to show me a better path than that I took. With
all my heart, with all my soul, with all my might, I hate that man which
that ship brought here to-day! You know what I did to escape them all, to
escape that man. I fled from England in the dress of my waiting maid and
under her name. I came to Virginia in that guise. I let myself be put up,
appraised, cried for sale, in that meadow yonder, as if I had been indeed
the piece of merchandise I professed myself. The one man who approached me
with respect I gulled and cheated. I let him, a stranger, give me his
name. I shelter myself now behind his name. I have foisted on him my
quarrel. I have—Oh, despise me, if you will! You cannot despise me
more than I despise myself!"</p>
<p>I stood with my hand upon the table and my eyes studying the shadow of the
vines upon the floor. All that she said was perfectly true, and yet—I
had a vision of a scarlet and black figure and a dark and beautiful face.
I too hated my Lord Carnal.</p>
<p>"I do not despise you, madam," I said at last. "What was done two weeks
ago in the meadow yonder is past recall. Let it rest. What is mine is
yours: it's little beside my sword and my name. The one is naturally at my
wife's service; for the other, I have had some pride in keeping it
untarnished. It is now in your keeping as well as my own. I do not fear to
leave it there, madam."</p>
<p>I had spoken with my eyes upon the garden outside the window, but now I
looked at her, to see that she was trembling in every limb,—trembling
so that I thought she would fall. I hastened to her. "The roses," she
said,—"the roses are too heavy. Oh, I am tired—and the room
goes round."</p>
<p>I caught her as she fell, and laid her gently upon the floor. There was
water on the table, and I dashed some in her face and moistened her lips;
then turned to the door to get woman's help, and ran against Diccon.</p>
<p>"I got that bag of bones here at last, sir," he began. "If ever I"—His
eyes traveled past me, and he broke off.</p>
<p>"Don't stand there staring," I ordered. "Go bring the first woman you
meet."</p>
<p>"Is she dead?" he asked under his breath. "Have you killed her?"</p>
<p>"Killed her, fool!" I cried. "Have you never seen a woman swoon?"</p>
<p>"She looks like death," he muttered. "I thought"—</p>
<p>"You thought!" I exclaimed. "You have too many thoughts. Begone, and call
for help!"</p>
<p>"Here is Angela," he said sullenly and without offering to move, as, light
of foot, soft of voice, ox-eyed and docile, the black woman entered the
room. When I saw her upon her knees beside the motionless figure, the head
pillowed on her arm, her hand busy with the fastenings about throat and
bosom, her dark face as womanly tender as any English mother's bending
over her nursling; and when I saw my wife, with a little moan, creep
further into the encircling arms, I was satisfied.</p>
<p>"Come away!" I said, and, followed by Diccon, went out and shut the door.</p>
<p>My Lord Carnal was never one to let the grass grow beneath his feet. An
hour later came his cartel, borne by no less a personage than the
Secretary of the colony.</p>
<p>I took it from the point of that worthy's rapier. It ran thus: "SIR,—At
what hour to-morrow and at what place do you prefer to die? And with what
weapon shall I kill you?"</p>
<p>"Captain Percy will give me credit for the profound reluctance with which
I act in this affair against a gentleman and an officer so high in the
esteem of the colony," said Master Pory, with his hand upon his heart.
"When I tell him that I once fought at Paris in a duel of six on the same
side with my late Lord Carnal, and that when I was last at court my Lord
Warwick did me the honor to present me to the present lord, he will see
that I could not well refuse when the latter requested my aid."</p>
<p>"Master Pory's disinterestedness is perfectly well known," I said, without
a smile. "If he ever chooses the stronger side, sure he has strong reasons
for so doing. He will oblige me by telling his principal that I ever
thought sunrise a pleasant hour for dying, and that there could be no
fitter place than the field behind the church, convenient as it is to the
graveyard. As for weapons, I have heard that he is a good swordsman, but I
have some little reputation that way myself. If he prefers pistols or
daggers, so be it."</p>
<p>"I think we may assume the sword," said Master Pory.</p>
<p>I bowed.</p>
<p>"You'll bring a friend?" he asked.</p>
<p>"I do not despair of finding one," I answered, "though my second, Master
Secretary, will put himself in some jeopardy."</p>
<p>"It is combat... outrance, I believe?"</p>
<p>"I understand it so."</p>
<p>"Then we'd better have Bohun. The survivor may need his services."</p>
<p>"As you please," I replied, "though my man Diccon dresses my scratches
well enough."</p>
<p>He bit his lip, but could not hide the twinkle in his eye.</p>
<p>"You are cocksure," he said. "Curiously enough, so is my lord. There are
no further formalities to adjust, I believe? To-morrow at sunrise, behind
the church, and with rapiers?"</p>
<p>"Precisely."</p>
<p>He slapped his blade back into its sheath. "Then that's over and done
with, for the nonce at least! Sufficient unto the day, etcetera. 'S life!
I'm hot and dry! You've sacked cities, Ralph Percy; now sack me the
minister's closet and bring out his sherris I'll be at charges for the
next communion."</p>
<p>We sat us down upon the doorstep with a tankard of sack between us, and
Master Pory drank, and drank, and drank again.</p>
<p>"How's the crop?" he asked. "Martin reports it poorer in quality than
ever, but Sir George will have it that it is very Varinas."</p>
<p>"It's every whit as good as the Spanish," I answered. "You may tell my
Lord Warwick so, when next you write."</p>
<p>He laughed. If he was a timeserver and leagued with my Lord Warwick's
faction in the Company, he was a jovial sinner. Traveler and student, much
of a philosopher, more of a wit, and boon companion to any beggar with a
pottle of ale,—while the drink lasted,—we might look askance
at his dealings, but we liked his company passing well. If he took half a
poor rustic's crop for his fee, he was ready enough to toss him sixpence
for drink money; and if he made the tenants of the lands allotted to his
office leave their tobacco uncared for whilst they rowed him on his
innumerable roving expeditions up creeks and rivers, he at least lightened
their labors with most side-splitting tales, and with bottle songs learned
in a thousand taverns.</p>
<p>"After to-morrow there'll be more interesting news to write," he
announced. "You're a bold man, Captain Percy."</p>
<p>He looked at me out of the corners of his little twinkling eyes. I sat and
smoked in silence.</p>
<p>"The King begins to dote upon him," he said; "leans on his arm, plays with
his hand, touches his cheek. Buckingham stands by, biting his lip, his
brow like a thundercloud. You'll find in to-morrow's antagonist, Ralph
Percy, as potent a conjurer as your cousin Hotspur found in Glendower.
He'll conjure you up the Tower, and a hanging, drawing, and quartering.
Who touches the King's favorite had safer touch the King. It's
lese-majeste, you contemplate."</p>
<p>He lit his pipe and blew out a great cloud of smoke, then burst into a
roar of laughter. "My Lord High Admiral may see you through. Zooks!
there'll be a raree-show worth the penny, behind the church to-morrow, a
Percy striving with all his might and main to serve a Villiers! Eureka!
There is something new under the sun, despite the Preacher!" He blew out
another cloud of smoke. By this the tankard was empty, and his cheeks were
red, his eyes moist, and his laughter very ready.</p>
<p>"Where's the Lady Jocelyn Leigh?" he asked. "May I not have the honor to
kiss her hand before I go?"</p>
<p>I stared at him. "I do not understand you," I said coldly. "There 's none
within but Mistress Percy. She is weary, and rests after her journey. We
came from Weyanoke this morning."</p>
<p>He shook with laughter. "Ay, ay, brave it out!" he cried. "It's what every
man Jack of us said you would do! But all's known, man! The Governor read
the King's letters in full Council an hour ago. She's the Lady Jocelyn
Leigh; she 's a ward of the King's; she and her lands are to wed my Lord
Carnal!"</p>
<p>"She was all that," I replied. "Now she 's my wife."</p>
<p>"You'll find that the Court of High Commission will not agree with you."</p>
<p>My rapier lay across my knees, and I ran my hand down its worn scabbard.
"Here 's one that agrees with me," I said. "And up there is Another," and
I lifted my hat.</p>
<p>He stared. "God and my good sword!" he cried. "A very knightly dependence,
but not to be mentioned nowadays in the same breath with gold and the
King's favor. Better bend to the storm, man; sing low while it roars past.
You can swear that you did n't know her to be of finer weave than dowlas.
Oh, they'll call it in some sort a marriage, for the lady's own sake; but
they'll find flaws enough to crack a thousand such mad matches. The
divorce is the thing! There's precedent, you know. A fair lady was parted
from a brave man not a thousand years ago, because a favorite wanted her.
True, Frances Howard wanted the favorite, whilst this beauty of yours"—</p>
<p>"You will please not couple the name of my wife with the name of that
adulteress!" I interrupted fiercely.</p>
<p>He started; then cried out somewhat hurriedly: "No offense, no offense! I
meant no comparisons; comparisons are odorous, saith Dogberry. All at
court know the Lady Jocelyn Leigh for a very Britomart, a maid as cold as
Dian!"</p>
<p>I rose, and began to pace up and down the bit of green before the door.
"Master Pory," I said at last, coming to a stop before him, "if, without
breach of faith, you can tell me what was said or done at the Council
to-day anent this matter, you will lay me under an obligation that I shall
not forget."</p>
<p>He studied the lace on his sleeve in silence for a while; then glanced up
at me out of those small, sly, merry eyes. "Why," he answered, "the King
demands that the lady be sent home forthwith, on the ship that gave us
such a turn to-day, in fact, with a couple of women to attend her, and
under the protection of the only other passenger of quality, to wit, my
Lord Carnal. His Majesty cannot conceive it possible that she hath so far
forgotten her birth, rank, and duty as to have maintained in Virginia this
mad masquerade, throwing herself into the arms of any petty planter or
broken adventurer who hath chanced to have an hundred and twenty pounds of
filthy tobacco with which to buy him a wife. If she hath been so mad, she
is to be sent home none the less, where she will be tenderly dealt with as
one surely in this sole matter under the spell of witchcraft. The ship is
to bring home also—and in irons—the man who married her. If he
swears to have been ignorant of her quality, and places no straws in the
way of the King's Commissioners, then shall he be sent honorably back to
Virginia with enough in his hand to get him another wife. Per contra, if
he erred with open eyes, and if he remain contumacious, he will have to
deal with the King and with the Court of High Commission, to say nothing
of the King's favorite. That's the sum and substance, Ralph Percy."</p>
<p>"Why was my Lord Carnal sent?" I asked.</p>
<p>"Probably because my Lord Carnal would come. He hath a will, hath my Lord,
and the King is more indulgent than Eli to those upon whom he dotes.
Doubtless, my Lord High Admiral sped him on his way, gave him the King's
best ship, wished him a favorable wind—to hell."</p>
<p>"I was not ignorant that she was other than she seemed, and I remain
contumacious."</p>
<p>"Then," he said shamelessly, "you'll forgive me if in public, at least, I
forswear your company? You're plague-spotted, Captain Percy, and your
friends may wish you well, but they must stay at home and burn juniper
before their own doors."</p>
<p>"I'll forgive you," I said, "when you 've told me what the Governor will
do."</p>
<p>"Why, there's the rub," he answered. "Yeardley is the most obstinate man
of my acquaintance. He who at his first coming, beside a great deal of
worth in his person, brought only his sword hath grown to be as very a Sir
Oracle among us as ever I saw. It's 'Sir George says this,' and 'Sir
George says that,' and so there's an end on't. It's all because of that
leave to cut your own throats in your own way that he brought you last
year. Sir George and Sir Edwyn! Zooks! you had better dub them St. George
and St. Edwyn at once, and be done with it. Well, on this occasion Sir
George stands up and says roundly, with a good round oath to boot: 'The
King's commands have always come to us through the Company. The Company
obeys the King; we obey the Company. His Majesty's demand (with reverence
I speak it) is out of all order. Let the Company, through the treasurer,
command us to send Captain Percy home in irons to answer for this passing
strange offense, or to return, willy nilly, the lady who is now surely his
wife, and we will have no choice but to obey. Until the Company commands
us we will do nothing; nay we can do nothing.' And every one of my fellow
Councilors (for myself, I was busy with my pens) saith, 'My opinion, Sir
George.' The upshot of it all is that the Due Return is to sail in two
days with our humble representation to his Majesty that though we bow to
his lightest word as the leaf bows to the zephyr, yet we are, in this sole
matter, handfast, compelled by his Majesty's own gracious charter to refer
our slightest official doing to that noble Company which owes its very
being to its rigid adherence to the terms of said charter. Wherefore, if
his Majesty will be graciously pleased to command us as usual through the
said Company—and so on. Of course, not a soul in the Council, or in
Jamestown, or in Virginia dreams of a duel behind the church at sunrise
to-morrow." He knocked the ashes from his pipe, and by degrees got his fat
body up from the doorstep. "So there's a reprieve for you, Ralph Percy,
unless you kill or are killed to-morrow morning. In the latter case, the
problem's solved; in the former, the best service you can do yourself, and
maybe the Company, is to walk out of the world of your own accord, and
that as quickly as possible. Better a cross-roads and a stake through a
dead heart than a hangman's hands upon a live one."</p>
<p>"One moment," I said. "Doth my Lord Carnal know of this decision of the
Governor's?"</p>
<p>"Ay, and a fine passion it put him into. Stormed and swore and threatened,
and put the Governor's back up finely. It seems that he thought to 'bout
ship to-morrow, lady and all. He refuseth to go without the lady, and so
remaineth in Virginia until he can have his will. Lord! but Buckingham
would be a happy man if he were kept here forever and a day! My lord knows
what he risks, and he's in as black a humor as ever you saw. But I have
striven to drop oil on the troubled waters. 'My lord,' I told him, 'you
have but to posses your soul with patience for a few short weeks, just
until the ship the Governor sends can return. Then all must needs be as
your lordship wishes. In the meantime, you may find existence in these
wilds and away from that good company which is the soul of life endurable,
and perhaps pleasant. You may have daily sight of the lady who is to
become your wife, and that should count for much with so ardent and
determined a lover as your lordship hath shown yourself to be. You may
have the pleasure of contemplating your rival's grave, if you kill him. If
he kills you, you will care the less about the date of the Santa Teresa's
sailing. The land, too, hath inducements to offer to a philosophical and
contemplative mind such as one whom his Majesty delighteth to honor must
needs possess. Beside these crystal rivers and among these odoriferous
woods, my lord, one escapes much expense, envy, contempt, vanity, and
vexation of mind.'"</p>
<p>The hoary sinner laughed and laughed. When he had gone away, still in huge
enjoyment of his own mirth, I, who had seen small cause for mirth, went
slowly indoors. Not a yard from the door, in the shadow of the vines that
draped the window, stood the woman who was bringing this fate upon me.</p>
<p>"I thought that you were in your own room," I said harshly, after a moment
of dead silence.</p>
<p>"I came to the window," she replied. "I listened. I heard all." She spoke
haltingly, through dry lips. Her face was as white as her ruff, but a
strange light burned in her eyes, and there was no trembling. "This
morning you said that all that you had—your name and your sword—were
at my service. You may take them both again, sir. I refuse the aid you
offer. Swear what you will, tell them what you please, make your peace
whilst you may. I will not have your blood upon my soul."</p>
<p>There was yet wine upon the table. I filled a cup and brought it to her.
"Drink!" I commanded.</p>
<p>"I have much of forbearance, much of courtesy, to thank you for," she
said. "I will remember it when—Do not think that I shall blame you"—</p>
<p>I held the cup to her lips. "Drink!" I repeated. She touched the red wine
with her lips. I took it from her and put it to my own. "We drink of the same
cup," I said, with my eyes upon hers, and drained it to the bottom. "I am
weary of swords and courts and kings. Let us go into the garden and watch
the minister's bees."</p>
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