Prudence2 was unusually silent and depressed3. She had been severely4 blamed by her mother for her share in the expedition of the previous evening; moreover, the sight of her friend's misery5 sobered her into a quite unwonted gravity. Deborah, on the contrary, passed the day in a state of hysterical6 excitement. Like so many otherwise kind-hearted women she possessed7 in a large degree that morbid8 love of horrors, which is erroneously considered to be an attribute of the uneducated classes alone.
At intervals9 during that terrible day, she darted10 in with some fresh tale of misery, culled11 from the gossip of the neighbours or the chatter12 of the maids. She poured forth13 these stories with an air of eager excitement, nay14, more, of intense enjoyment15, ill-concealed16 beneath a grave head-shaking and copious17 exclamations18 of pity and horror.
"They have built up a scaffold in the market-place," she announced rapturously. "Oh! 'tis terrible to see it. Martha Hemming19 saith she could not sleep for the sound of the hammering, and thinking of all the poor creatures to be hanged there. 'Tis said they mostly go straight from their trial to be hanged. Think on't. They may be hanging now, the poor fellows. 'Tis said, down Dorchester way, the judges sent three hundred to be hanged, and my Lord Jeffreys hath said it will not be his fault if he doth not depopulate this place. 'Tis terrible. 'Tis as it was in July. Dost mind it, Prudence, after the fight at Sedgemoor, when Colonel Kirke first came here? They hanged them on the signpost of the Inn. Oh! 'twas too horrible. Joan Marlow saw it. 'Twas said that one wretch20 was strung up and cut down again four times ere he died. Think on't. And the troopers jesting at him the while. 'Twas a fearsome time! I doubt not 'twill be yet more dreadful now. 'Tis a wonder such things should be. One can but pity them though they be rebels."
So she rattled21 on, while Cicely sat by shuddering23 with horror.
Later in the day Deborah became still more profuse24 and detailed25 in her narratives26.
"They say my Lord Jeffreys is fair raging. Some say he is mad or drunk, for he laughs and jests, and then again bellows27 with fury. What a man it is! But, oh! Prudence, I had nigh forgot. Philip Harke is hanged. Straight from court they took him, hanged him till he was well-nigh spent, then cut him down and quartered him. The horror of it! And none dare tell his wife; but she was out ere they knew, and saw his head on a pole in High Street, and has turned silly, they say. And small wonder too; I shall not dare to walk the streets for a month. Praise be to God we have no friends among them, saving, of course, your cousin, Lady Cicely, yet 'tis terrible to see the heads and corpses28. And the market-place must be a shambles29, they say."
"Peace, peace, Deb. 'Tis too horrible."
"Aye, is't not indeed so? They say there be a thousand prisoners, all told. Yet belike 'twill not be death to all, though his lordship has vowed31 to show no mercy. And the women; there be many among the victims. 'Tis truly awful. Mistress Brown from over by Lyme, I know not rightly of what she is accused, yet I think 'tis but a matter of some rash words, as that she would pay the excise32 dues to King Monmouth, or some such folly33, but she is condemned34 to be scourged35 through every market-place in the country. And they say she as like not to be the only one to meet with such a sentence. But to think on't.—A woman—and but for a rash tongue. Why, who is safe? To be scourged! Oh! 'tis brutal36."
"Child! Child! Will you drive me mad?" cried Cicely, unable to endure more. "Be silent."
Deborah stared at her in amazement37.
"Indeed, I am sorry I have offended your ladyship," she murmured somewhat sulkily; "though I see not how. 'Tis but natural to feel pity for such misery, though they be but rebels and doubtless deserving of their fate. Yet 'tis horrible for all that. Martha Hemming saith she had seen——"
"Be silent, girl, I will hear no more," cried Cicely, springing to her feet in desperation.
And then she stopped, and her heart leaped in terror, for she heard in the hallway without the voice of Master Lane, calling to his wife, and she divined by his tone that the news he brought was ill.
She went out calmly to meet him.
"Prithee, tell me, sir, tell me all," she asked in a strange, quiet voice.
Master Lane started at sight of her. He hesitated, looking for his wife to come to his aid. Then, meeting the agonised look in her eyes he paused no longer, but stepped forward to take her hand between his own, and told her gently, tenderly, the terrible sentence passed upon her cousin.
"Even now I know not truly how it befell," he continued sadly. "The poor child was overwrought. She bandied words with the chief justice, she defied him. He is not a man to brook39 defiance40, and he revenged himself. But 'tis not likely they will carry out their sentence. Money can do much, influence more. We will talk it over together. Perchance you might go to London, 'tis not to be doubted but his Majesty41 will have pity upon her youth. You must see the Queen; she will surely show mercy to a woman. I will do what I can to work upon my Lord Jeffreys; I have friends who have some influence over his lordship, and they say money can do much; I doubt not she shall soon be pardoned. Come, my child, we must be brave; we must not despair."
He patted her hand kindly42, full of pity for her misery. Cicely listened to all in a strange apathy43.
"No," she muttered dully, "no, we must not despair, not despair."
Then she turned from him slowly and mounted the stairs to her room in perfect silence.
Master Lane looked after her anxiously.
"Poor thing! Poor thing!" he muttered, his eyes glistening44 with tears. "'Tis hard indeed for her. Very hard."
Then he turned to find his wife, feeling his helplessness in the face of this strange, silent misery, and seeking to ease his mind of the burden of a sorrow he could neither grapple with nor relieve.
Cicely paced her room dry-eyed, trembling, striving to realise this horror which had befallen them, striving to picture the execution of such a sentence upon her tender, beautiful young cousin. She could not do so. She repeated the words of the sentence again and again till they jangled through her brain, yet she could not believe it, she remained unmoved.
Then suddenly there flashed across her mind the question: "How shall I face Rupert and tell him this?"
And on the instant her strange apathy vanished, on the instant she understood the full horror of the sentence.
Oh! how could she face Rupert? Rupert whose love for his sister and whose pride in that sister had almost excited her jealousy45; Rupert, whose last words to herself had been: "Take care of Barbara, and keep her out of mischief46." How could she face him, see the love and trust in his eyes, the bright, brave smile upon his lips, and tell him that Barbara had suffered shame, imprisonment47, torture, and she had done nothing, nothing to save her? No! rather let her die than face her lover with that tale upon her lips.
She flung herself upon her bed in a passion of weeping.
But what could she do? The Winslows were not rich, she had little money to offer these brutal judges, if indeed a reprieve48 were to be bought. She had few relations, their influence at court was but small. It would take much time even to gain access to the King, and in the meanwhile——she shuddered49 at the thought.
She had made one appeal to the chief justice, alas50! how vain an one; even yet the remembrance of it filled her with terror. She could not, dared not again face that terrible man, again kneel to him for mercy.
Aye, but for Barbara? for Rupert? Truly for their sakes she would do even this. But the hopelessness of the attempt, the impossibility of moving, by an appeal of hers, that pitiless heart! The conviction of it crushed her brain.
And yet, surely, there must be one influence to move him, one road to his favour. Surely, no man living can be absolutely immovable, absolutely indifferent. Ah! could she but discover the key to his mercy how eagerly would she sacrifice all to win it!
She opened her window, and leaned her hot temples against the casement51, breathing the cool evening air. Two men passed in the street below, discussing gravely the events of the trial. Their words floated up to her on the breeze. She caught the name of the lord chief justice.
"Ah!" said one, "the only sure road to his favour is by the informing of a rebel. He hath been known to extend a pardon, if he may thereby52 gain information of a more profitable victim. He is drunk with blood, and crazy for gold."
They passed on, their footsteps echoing down the empty street.
"The only sure road to his favour is by the informing of a rebel."
The words rang in her ears, repeated again and again.
So therein lay the secret to win him.
Well, and surely that were easy. Did she not know of many a rebel, in hiding near her own village of Durford? It needed but a word to unearth53 them all.
"But it must be a more profitable victim," not a poor peasant who could pay no penalty save death.
Well, and could she not supply that information also? While Captain Protheroe went free, was there not a rebel to be apprehended54, a rebel or protector of rebels, surely much the same? For had he not himself confessed to Barbara that he had connived55 at Rupert's escape, though knowing well his hiding place? That surely was enough to hang a man, and a man indeed deserving to be hanged, seeing 'twas undoubtedly56 he who had betrayed Barbara!
Ah! what was this horrible temptation seizing upon her? She shuddered at the power of it. To betray a man to his death, a man, moreover, who had protected Rupert! She could not—she could not. There was dishonour57 in the very thought. A Winslow a traitor58! traitor to the hand that helped him!
"Oh, God!" she wailed59, "what can I do? And how shall I live if I do it?"
And yet that Captain Protheroe had betrayed Barbara in the end, she firmly believed. And Barbara had risked so much for Rupert's sake, and Barbara was in danger, and must be saved. What mattered it then though she, Cicely, were guilty of this treachery, at the despicable thought of which she shuddered? The shame would lie hidden in her own heart, the loss of self-respect would be hers alone to bear, the matter would lie between herself and her conscience. Barbara would be saved, and what was her own peace of mind compared with the life of Rupert's sister?
Impulsively60 she donned her hat and cloak. She dared not pause lest her resolution should fail her, lest her terror of the man to whom she was going should sap her resolve, or her horror of the treachery weaken her determination.
She descended61 the stairs softly, unobserved. The house was very silent.
But at the door she encountered Prudence, who hurried forward eagerly to know whither she was bound.
"Do not stop me, Prue," she answered in a strange, cold voice. "I am going to the White Hart Inn."
"To the White Hart! Not, surely, to see——"
"Yes, to see my Lord Jeffreys. I have——I have information to give him."
"But Lady Cicely, you cannot go alone. 'Tis impossible. Wait at least till dad can bear you company. Nay, you must, indeed."
Cicely put her aside firmly.
"No, Prue, I cannot wait. That which I have to do I must do at once, or perchance 'twill never be accomplished62. Leave me to go my way."
She passed out into the street. Prudence stared after her in hesitation63. Despite her youth, her quick burgher-wit taught her, far more clearly than Cicely, the dangers of such an errand undertaken alone. She knew, far better than did the elder girl, with her sheltered life and breeding, the nature of such men as bore the chief justice company in his nightly carouses64 at the White Hart Inn.
"No, no," she muttered. "She cannot go alone, alone among those devils."
Quickly she snatched up hood66 and cloak and followed Cicely into the quiet street.
Cicely scarce noted67 the presence of her companion. She hurried forward rapidly through the half-deserted streets, looking neither to right nor left, heedless of those terrible signs of butchery which greeted them at every corner, and at sight of which Prudence shrank and shuddered with horror.
At the inn the chief justice sat at supper with the circle of boon-companions whom he had collected from among the followers68 of his circuit.
At the door of the inn a sentry69 barred the girl's entrance, and to Cicely's request for audience with the lord chief justice, his reply was that the business must wait, seeing that his lordship was at dinner.
In vain Cicely pleaded for an interview however brief, in vain she protested that her business was urgent, her information of the utmost importance, even in vain she offered him money, the man was obdurate70.
From the row of open windows above came the clink of glasses, the murmur38 of men's voices, at times a loud burst of laughter. Cicely glanced from the unmoved face of the sentry up to the open windows of the room in which was the man she sought. She had carried her resolution so far, she could not endure the thought of failure now.
As she glanced upward an officer lounged into view at one of the windows and stared carelessly down on the group below.
"By Mahomet!" he exclaimed. "A petticoat. Two, i' faith, and main pretty baggages into the bargain."
He turned and said something to his comrades, and the jest was greeted by a burst of coarse laughter.
Other men crowded to the windows and stared down curiously71 at the two girls, and as the first speaker turned away, the babble72 of voices in the room grew, louder.
Presently the officer appeared in the doorway73 of the inn, and with a bow of mock politeness requested the ladies to honour him by placing their difficulties in his hands, and telling him the nature of their business with the lord chief justice.
Shrinking involuntarily before the bold appraising74 looks with which the man surveyed her face and figure, Cicely nevertheless answered bravely enough that she possessed certain information concerning a rebel, but could confide75 her knowledge to none save Lord Jeffreys himself.
"'Tis not his lordship's custom to deal with any business at so late an hour," answered the officer. "Yet a request from those fair lips can never go ungranted, so, an you will permit me, I will act as your advocate, and plead with him for an interview. He would scarce refuse, did he know what a pleasure his consent would afford him."
He led the girls into the inn, and with another low bow, and a last critical survey left them in the passage and mounted to the room above with his report.
Evidently the report gave complete satisfaction. It was received with roars of laughter and a burst of eager questioning, and in a very short space of time the officer reappeared below, and requested Cicely, with a great show of politeness, to accompany him to the presence of the lord justice.
"I have so favourably76 reported to his lordship, madame, that he is as eager to see you as ever you can be to see him; indeed, 'tis yourself should be the most powerful advocate."
"You are very kind, sir," faltered77 Cicely.
The man's manner made her shudder22, but as she turned to accompany him upstairs, followed by the reluctant Prudence, her heart leaped in triumph at having so easily overcome the first obstacle in her path. Surely now she was on the road to success. But when her companion flung wide the door, and bowed her elaborately into the room above, she stopped with a low cry of astonishment78 and fear, and the glad triumph died within her. For then only did she understand that her interview was not to be, as she had supposed, with the lord chief justice alone, in the privacy of his chamber79, but that it was in the presence of these half-drunken roysterers, whose coarse laughter heard in the street below had stung her cheeks to crimson80; it was before these drinking, jesting, pitiless men that she must tell her tale, and urge her plea.
It was too late then to retreat, but as she stood in the doorway, and surveyed with anxious eyes the room and the company assembled there, a vague, inexplicable81 fear took possession of her heart, and involuntarily she groped for Prue's hand, and drew the girl closer to her side.
Down the centre of the room ran a long table, plentifully82 furnished with meats and wines, at which were seated some of the officers of the troops quartered in the town, the judges, and a sprinkling of the officials of the circuit, and several pliable83 Tory gentlemen of the neighbourhood. Candles were lighted on the table, and as their rays illumined the faces of those who sat at meat they revealed no face that did not bear the clear stamp of debauchery and wickedness. For even in that callous84 and licentious85 age it would have been hard to find in all the length and breadth of the realm a viler86 and more despicable coterie87 than this company of noted officers, honoured judges, and highborn satellites who sat at the board of the lord chief justice of England.
At the head of the table sat my Lord Jeffreys, the very picture now, despite his ailment88, of jovial89 good-humour. He had laid aside alike the severity of the judge and the ferocity of the man, and as he lounged at ease while the wine circulated freely, he warmed in the flattery of his comrades, and cracking jests and capping stories, was himself the leader and head-spring of their boisterous90 mirth.
On his right hand sat the commanding officer of the district, Colonel Kirke. And it was at sight of the latter's face that Cicely first realised to the full what manner of men were these before whom she stood. For nature is not to be gainsaid91, and now, even as in the days of Cain, she imprints92 upon a man's features the sure tokens of his sins. But no longer, as in that age of the world's innocence93, do men flee forth into the wilderness94 to hide their shame, rather they walk abroad, regardless of the mark upon their foreheads, knowing well that none will dare to call them to account.
And surely, in all the annals of our history, never was there a man more hardened in cruelty, more steeped in licentiousness95 than this same Percy Kirke. Yet the man was a great soldier, an able commander, fearless as death itself. But withal one whom no man could hold in honour, whom no woman could trust, for he would accept a bribe96 or betray a woman with the same ease and satisfaction as he would toss off a cup of wine.
As Cicely and her companion were ushered97 into the room the colonel was leaning across the table whispering a story into the ear of the lord chief justice. The rest of the company turned silent as the two girls remained timidly in the doorway shrinking from the cold gaze of so many pairs of eyes.
At length, the story ended, Lord Jeffreys burst into a roar of laughter, turned slowly in his chair, and after eyeing the two trembling women for a moment in silence, snarled98:
"Come, girl! 'Tis damned wearisome to be troubled with affairs of state at this hour of the night, but since ye are here, say your say. What do you want with me, eh?"
"I entreat99 your lordship's pardon for this intrusion," began Cicely timidly. "An I might see your lordship alone——"
"What? An assignation! Oh! fie, madame," cried the chief justice, glancing round at his companions with a mocking smile. Then he continued sharply, "Nonsense, girl. Say what you want here and now, or leave it unsaid and begone."
Seeing no escape Cicely called up all her courage and proceeded to urge her plea.
"I have come hither on behalf of my cousin, Mistress Barbara Winslow, who was to-day sentenced to——to a most cruel punishment. I am here to beg your lordship to think mercifully of the matter and to grant me her pardon."
Lord Jeffreys glanced at the speaker with a quick scowl100.
"How's this?" he cried sharply. "What means this? Am I never to hear the end of this pestilent woman? Is all the world mad concerning her? But we will have no pleading here. You have come, I am told, to lay information against a rebel. Beware, madame! If you have no such errand, if you have tricked us, the worse for you."
"Nay, my lord," answered Cicely, trembling. "I have not deceived you. I have information, not indeed of a rebel, but of one who hath connived at an escape. But I will give it only in return for my cousin's free pardon. On no other consideration."
"Say you so, indeed. And who may you be, madame, who dares to dictate101 terms to his Majesty's representatives? Have a care, madame, have a care."
"It matters little who I am, my lord," answered Cicely with some spirit, "save only this. I am no spy, no common tale-bearer. I would not willingly lay information against any man, and I vow30 that, do what ye may, I will not speak a word further on the subject till I have your assurance of my cousin's pardon."
Lord Jeffreys scowled102 savagely104, but she met his glance unflinchingly, and he turned away with an oath and swallowed a glass of wine.
"Well! Well!" he exclaimed testily105. "Out with thy story, girl. Who is this rebel?"
"You swear to me my cousin shall be pardoned?"
"Aye, aye. You shall have her pardon, an the affair prove serious enow to merit it—a hanging matter. Now, the name of your rebel, and be speedy, madame."
"'Tis—'tis Captain Miles Protheroe."
"Miles Protheroe!"
A shout of astonishment from the officers present greeted the name, all eyes were turned on the informer. Only Colonel Kirke remained silent, but he turned in his chair, and leaned forward with an eager glint in his eyes, and his teeth gleamed white behind his black beard.
Then Cicely told her story. The silence, the universal attention frightened her. She stammered106, broke down, struggled on again. Only the thought of Barbara nerved her to a finish. Jeffreys helped her by an occasional sharp question, the rest of her audience sat in silence.
When she had finished her tale she turned to the lord chief justice eagerly.
"Is—is that a hanging matter, my lord?" she asked, shuddering involuntarily at the question.
"Oh, aye, 'twill serve, I doubt not."
"Then the pardon, my lord," she urged timidly.
"Pardon? Eh, what? What pardon?"
"For my cousin, Mistress Winslow. You swore she should be pardoned, if I spoke107."
Jeffreys looked round the table with a low laugh of amusement. Then he slowly drained his glass.
"To be sure," he said. "To be sure. She shall be pardoned, freely pardoned—when her sentence has been executed."
Cicely's heart grew suddenly cold.
"My lord! What mean you?" she gasped108. "Surely—you cannot——No! No! You swore to me she should have a free pardon."
"So she shall, so she shall," assented109 the judge. "A full and free pardon, two years from to-day. I'll answer for it."
Cicely held out her hands in helpless entreaty110.
"Ah! no, my lord. Surely you are jesting with me," she cried.
"Tut, you fool," he answered impatiently. "Do you deem a pardon is so easily won? Jesting, forsooth; aye, 'tis a jest, i' faith," he laughed brutally111, "but I doubt if Mistress Winslow will find it so. They shall tell her on't after her first taste of the whip, and see if her wits can mark the humour on't."
He laughed heartily112 at this suggestion, some of his comrades and satellites joining in his mirth.
But Cicely gave way utterly113. She fell at his feet; she sobbed114 out desperate entreaties115 to pitiless deaf ears.
"Ah! no, no, my lord, it cannot be, you cannot mean it. Say you do but jest. Surely it is enough, this thing that I have done. For I have told you, told you all I know. Ah! tell me what more I can do, what more to win her pardon. Indeed I will do anything—anything, an you will but pardon. Ah! my lord, my lord!"
Jeffreys looked down at her and laughed. Then he poured himself another glass of wine, and pushed the bottle on to his neighbour.
"Take her away! Take her away," he said testily, pushing her with his foot.
Cicely would have renewed her plea, but Prudence Lane, realising that any such effort would be useless, and apprehending116 that to remain longer in such dissolute and abandoned company might be to court insult even of a more degrading character, leaned down to her companion, and with a whispered entreaty, drew her to her feet. The door was flung open for their departure and the two girls, Cicely clinging to her friend's arm for support, were ushered from the room, and thence into the High street.
In heavy silence they retraced117 their steps homeward, but had not proceeded far, when upon turning a corner they ran almost into the arms of Captain Protheroe. He had been absent from Taunton since the previous day upon a mission in the west, and was now on his way to the White Hart Inn in search of Colonel Kirke to make his report.
Cicely recoiled118 from him with a cry of remorseful119 horror, but he stepped eagerly towards her. Though they had never spoken together, he knew her well by sight.
"Lady Cicely Winslow!" he exclaimed in glad astonishment. "What brings you to Taunton at such a time? 'Tis no ill news, I trust. And Mistress Barbara? Is she here likewise?"
Cicely stared at him, her eyes wide with a momentary120 terror.
"You know, you must know," she exclaimed in a low, hard voice. "No! I will not believe but 'twas you who betrayed her. I dare not. I should go mad else at what I have done. No! 'tis true, you are but mocking me."
Her words had almost a ring of entreaty in them. She could not, would not believe his innocence; would not be deprived of this last plea in justification121.
He stared down at her in amazement.
"On my soul, Lady Cicely, I do not understand one word of what you are saying," he exclaimed.
Cicely remained sullenly122 silent. He turned to Prue for an explanation.
"What means all this? Where is Mistress Barbara Winslow?"
"In prison, sir, for harbouring rebels, sentenced for two years, and to be scourged every month in the open market-place. If, as her ladyship says, this is your doing, you may be proud of your work." She tossed her head defiantly123.
"In prison! Here in Taunton! Impossible, girl. You must be mad to say it," he urged in desperate eagerness.
Prudence would have responded with an outburst of scorn, but Cicely seized her by the arm and dragged her down the street. Indeed the poor lady was half demented. The sudden appearance of Captain Protheroe had brought vividly124 before her mind the full significance of what she had done, and with that strange stubbornness which possesses those worn out in mind and body, she sought to shelter herself from the stings of conscience behind the plea of justification in view of the criminal and despicable nature of the man she had betrayed. As she herself said, she dared not believe in his innocence. Her only comfort lay in convincing herself that he was even as those to whom she had betrayed him.
Captain Protheroe stared after their retreating figures in the deepest astonishment, but his astonishment quickly gave place to horror as he realised the meaning of their words.
To be imprisoned125, scourged by the brutal soldiery, this girl, so young, so tender, so beautiful! He ground his teeth with rage as he hurried forward.
"This is one of Jeffreys' deviltries, I doubt not," he muttered.
He had heard of many such, had heard of them with a shudder of loathing126, and passed on in disgust. But that she—that they should dare to lay hands on her! Instinctively127 his hand went to his breast, where lay concealed the knot of scarlet128 ribbon. He trembled at the sudden, awful horror of the thought.
But he was a soldier, a man of action, not one to waste time in futile129 imaginings while there was work that might, that must be done. With an effort he pulled his thoughts together and reviewed the situation, while he strode rapidly towards the White Hart Inn.
"There is but one thing to be done," he muttered. "An appeal from me to Jeffreys or to Kirke were worse than useless. I must to London. General Churchill will refuse me nothing, and he is high in favour with the King. He can procure130 a pardon—he shall do so. I will get leave at once, and start to-night. When she is free and safe, then to find the man who has informed against her. But before all she must be released."
So he determined131, as he went rapidly on his way.
Meanwhile in the upper chamber of the White Hart Inn the carouse65 continued. The babble of tongues and roars of laughter once more disturbed the peaceful silence of the evening.
After Cicely's departure Lord Jeffreys exercised his wits sharply upon the subject of his late applicant's visit, and his companions joined in his humour.
But despite the boisterous merriment an air of depression hung over many members of the company. This sudden accusation132 levelled at one of their comrades, for an affair so trivial in their eyes, and yet adjudged by the chief justice as worthy133 of death, roused an anxious terror in their hearts that would not be stilled. For if this man indeed be brought to punishment, upon whom might not the next thunderbolt fall; who could be accounted safe? Were they not all equally guilty, and equally open to betrayal? They eyed the judge nervously134, and trembled while they laughed.
Only Colonel Kirke made no attempt to hide his preoccupation, though it sprang from another cause. He sat grave, silent, biting his lips in thought, while that strange gleam of ferocity deepened in his eyes.
At length Lord Jeffreys turned to his neighbour, and rallied him good-humouredly.
"Come, Percy," he cried, "you don't drink. Why, what ails135 you, man? Have you lost your heart to yon fair fool, eh?"
"No, my lord. I' faith, I have clean forgot her."
"But not her story, eh?" asked the judge, glancing at him with a sinister136 smile, for he was quick to read men's thoughts, and guessed at the anxiety in his companion's thoughts. "Come, about this rebel officer of yours. What of him? Shall we wink137 at the matter?"
His lordship was no hypocrite; that which he did, justly or unjustly, he made little attempt to hide, and certainly among his boon-companions, the taking of a bribe, or the winking138 at a fault were subjects for free discussion.
Kirke pushed aside his glass, and leaned across the table, speaking in a low voice:
"This is my affair, my lord. This is a matter for court-martial. Let me try the man."
Jeffreys laughed good-humouredly.
"What! you dog. You want to handle the crowns, eh! Is it a rich prize?"
"There'll be no crowns in this case," said Kirke with a grim smile. "This is a matter for punishment."
"What, colonel! Turned honest, eh! Why, man, if all reports are true you've done the same yourself, a thousand times, tho' certes you've more frequently pocketed the reward than spared the life."
"Maybe. But they have grown restive139 on the subject at Whitehall of late, damn them! My Lord Sunderland has been pleased to complain. Well, we'll make an example of this one."
"Tut! man. Have your way, court-martial an you will, but never hang the fellow. His friends won't pay for his carcase. There are enough and to spare for hanging; this fellow should yield a goodly profit."
"Years ago, my lord," answered the colonel grimly. "this man and I were in France together. We quarrelled concerning a slip of a girl; he professed140 to mislike my methods of dealing141 with her and laid his cane142 across my cheek in public. When I cried for satisfaction he refused, saying he did not measure swords with a bully143. He is a swordsman, curse him; it was useless to brand him as a coward; I had no redress144. That was twelve years ago. I feel the stroke of his cane on my cheek again to-night and here at last is a salve to the bruise145. I've watched and waited, knowing that my chance would come, and now at last he is in my power. No, my lord, crowns will be of no avail; he shall be tried at sunrise to-morrow, and shot like a dog at noon."
Throughout this speech the colonel's tone had grown ever louder, and as he uttered the last words with a savage103 ferocity, the door opened, and Captain Protheroe walked into the room.
"Hullo! colonel, another victim?" he exclaimed. "Who is the wretched devil who is to be shovelled146 out of the world so speedily?"
There was deep silence. Captain Protheroe gazed round in astonishment at the circle of grave faces, all turned eagerly towards him. Only Lord Jeffreys gave a sudden short laugh, as he lay back in his chair and watched the scene. For he loved to watch human comedies, if tragedy lurked147 behind them.
Then Colonel Kirke spoke:
"Captain Protheroe, you are under arrest. You will give your sword to Captain Harrington, and accompany him at once to the guard-house. I refuse your parole."
The Captain faced the speaker in astonishment.
"I! Arrested! What devil's foolishness is this?" he cried. "On what charge?"
"Set a watch on your words," answered Kirke shortly. "You are charged with connivance148 at the escape of a noted rebel, Sir Rupert Winslow."
Captain Protheroe started. So there was ground after all for the accusation; it was no imaginary charge, easy to refute; it was a serious affair, an affair he saw well that might cost him dear. He hesitated a moment, then:
"I claim at least to have the matter referred to the General," he said resolutely149. Neither Churchill nor Feversham, he knew well, would be severe upon him.
"You are at present under my command, Captain Protheroe," answered Kirke shortly. "You will be tried by me. Captain Harrington, remove your prisoner."
The Colonel had risen to his feet, and for a full minute the two men faced each other in silence. Then Captain Protheroe smiled. He knew his enemy's inveterate150 hatred151, he read the full significance of that glance. And yet he smiled. It was too simple, too obvious. Not a man in that room, he knew well, but had been guilty a dozen times of the same breach152 of duty as that of which he stood accused, yet they went free, unpunished, while for himself he saw well there would be no mercy. The malice153 was too palpable, he laughed in his enemy's face.
Not, though it were for his life, would he urge one plea before this man; his pride forbade him to stoop to entreat the favour of one whose vengeance154 he so utterly despised. Without a word he handed his sword to Captain Harrington, and turned to accompany him from the room.
"Where is he to be lodged155, Colonel?" inquired Captain Harrington doubtfully. "In the guard-house?"
Colonel Kirke hesitated.
"No," he muttered to himself. "'Tis not secure enough. The fellow is too devilish popular with the men. I scarce think my lambs would dare to revolt, but yet there might be an escape. I'll not risk it. I must ask you to keep the prisoner for me till to-morrow," he added aloud, turning to the governor of the prison, who was seated among the officers at the lower end of the table.
The governor shrugged157 his shoulders.
"I' faith, we are full enough," he muttered. "Tho' his lordship has cleared us out a little to-day," he added with a laugh.
"Any hole or corner will serve till morning," persisted the Colonel, "so it be secure."
"Secure enough; I'll answer for that," answered the governor as he scribbled158 an order for imprisonment.
He tossed the paper to Captain Harrington, an escort was called, and in a few minutes Captain Protheroe was marching through the silent streets to his prison.
He was no coward, yet no man in his inmost heart can jest when he finds himself face to face with a prospect159 of meeting death. And as he passed by the swinging corpses and trunkless faces hoisted160 on poles in the market-place, and reflected that in twelve hours he might be even such as they, he was seized with a wild impotent fury against the fate which had brought him to such a helpless pass. Only his soldier's pride held him from throwing himself desperately161 upon his guards, and making one last, vain, hopeless struggle for freedom.
The distance from the inn to the gaol162 was not great, and having arrived at their destination, Captain Protheroe was duly handed over to the charge of the head-gaoler, who in the governor's absence consigned163 him to one of the large sheds situated164 near the castle.
Then Captain Harrington, having fulfilled his commission, paused to bid his prisoner good-night.
"I am grieved about this, Miles," he said anxiously, for the two had been comrades. "But keep up your heart; the Colonel cannot really mean to treat seriously such an affair. Why, zounds, man, none of us have an over-clean record in that respect. He is bound to take some notice of the accusation, of course, and he bears a grudge165 against you, we know, but it can't mean more than a night or so in prison."
"Do you think so, Will?" answered the prisoner, pressing his outstretched hand. "No, Kirke and I have met before, we know each other. He's not the man to forgive an injury, and I'll be hanged if I ask him to; tho'," he added with a smile—"there's not a doubt on't I'll be shot if I don't."
"Tut, man, it's never so bad as that. Keep up your spirits. And anything I can do——"
"There are one or two commissions—— But there will be time enough in the morning to speak of them. You'd best return now and report to the colonel, or you will get a lick of the rough side of his tongue yourself, as my Lord Jeffreys hath it. Good-night.—And Will, here's a word of advice from a dying man, beware of women, and it may be you'll live to be drowned after all. Now, my man, I am ready," he added, turning to the gaoler, and with a final nod to his friend, he passed into the shed.
Captain Harrington stood for some minutes in thought. But despite the colonel's threats, he could not believe that he would carry out sentence of death for so trivial a matter, on one of his own officers. So with a shrug156 and a whistle he turned away, and strode back to the White Hart Inn.
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1
ascertained
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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culled
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| v.挑选，剔除( cull的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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13
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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copious
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| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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19
hemming
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| 卷边 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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22
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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23
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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24
profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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narratives
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| 记叙文( narrative的名词复数 )； 故事； 叙述； 叙述部分 | |
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27
bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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28
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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29
shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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32
excise
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| n.(国产)货物税；vt.切除，删去 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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34
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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35
scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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37
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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38
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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39
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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40
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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41
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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42
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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43
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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44
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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45
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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46
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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47
imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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48
reprieve
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| n.暂缓执行（死刑）；v.缓期执行；给…带来缓解 | |
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49
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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50
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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51
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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52
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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53
unearth
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| v.发掘，掘出，从洞中赶出 | |
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54
apprehended
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| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
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55
connived
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| v.密谋 ( connive的过去式和过去分词 )；搞阴谋；默许；纵容 | |
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56
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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57
dishonour
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| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
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58
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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59
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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61
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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62
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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63
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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64
carouses
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| v.痛饮，闹饮欢宴( carouse的第三人称单数 ) | |
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65
carouse
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| v.狂欢；痛饮；n.狂饮的宴会 | |
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66
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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67
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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68
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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69
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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70
obdurate
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| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
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71
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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72
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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73
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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74
appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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75
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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76
favourably
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| adv. 善意地，赞成地 =favorably | |
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77
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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78
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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79
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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80
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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81
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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82
plentifully
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| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
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83
pliable
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| adj.易受影响的；易弯的；柔顺的，易驾驭的 | |
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84
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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85
licentious
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| adj.放纵的，淫乱的 | |
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86
viler
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| adj.卑鄙的( vile的比较级 )；可耻的；极坏的；非常讨厌的 | |
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87
coterie
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| n.(有共同兴趣的)小团体，小圈子 | |
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88
ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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89
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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90
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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91
gainsaid
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| v.否认，反驳( gainsay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
imprints
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| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
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93
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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94
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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95
licentiousness
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| n.放肆，无法无天 | |
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96
bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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97
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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99
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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100
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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101
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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102
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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103
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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104
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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105
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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106
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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108
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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109
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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111
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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112
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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113
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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114
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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115
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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116
apprehending
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| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的现在分词 )； 理解 | |
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117
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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118
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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119
remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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120
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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121
justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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122
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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123
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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124
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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125
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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127
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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128
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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129
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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130
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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132
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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133
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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134
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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135
ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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137
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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138
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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139
restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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140
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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141
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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142
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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143
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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146
shovelled
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| v.铲子( shovel的过去式和过去分词 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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147
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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148
connivance
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| n.纵容；默许 | |
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149
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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150
inveterate
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| adj.积习已深的，根深蒂固的 | |
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151
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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152
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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153
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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154
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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155
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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156
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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157
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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158
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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159
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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160
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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161
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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162
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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163
consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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164
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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165
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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