The masque was fixed8 for twelve o'clock; and, an hour before noon, the company of players began to ride up the High Street on their way to the playing field. Mary of Scots passed badinage9 with a Franciscan friar as they rode in company; a jester went by, tickling10 Cardinal11 Wolsey in the ribs12 until the great crowd lining13 either side the street laughed uproariously. The day was in keeping with it all—sunlight on the storied houses, lush fragrance15 of the lilac, the song of birds from every branch of every tree.
From up the street there came, sudden as a thunder-clap, the clash of horses' feet. The masqueraders drew aside, to right and left, with little heed16 for wayfarers17. And down the lane, bordered thick with faces, there came a band of men who did not ride for pageantry.
In front of them—he had been thrust into leadership by the Squire18 of Nappa, who had guessed his ambition and his dream—rode a little man on a little, wiry mare19. Blood was dripping from a wound on his cheek; his right arm hung limp. He did not seem to be aware of all this disarray20, but rode as a conqueror21 might do. The dream sufficed him.
A draper in the crowd, whose heart was bigger than the trade that hemmed22 him in, raised a strident cry: "Why, it's little Blake! Wounds over him, from head to foot—but it's little Blake."
And then Blake's dream came true. To the full he tasted the incense23 of men's praise, long worked for, yet unsought. All down the High Street the running murmur24 went that Blake was here; and the people saw his wounds, the gay, courageous25 smile in answer to their greeting, and their cheers redoubled.
The pageant-makers, thrust aside by the steady, uncompromising trot26 of the Metcalfs, lost their first irritation—forgot the boredom27 that had settled on them during these idle days—and raised a cheer as lusty as the townfolks'. The street was one sunlit length of white horses moving forward briskly, four by four; the big men on them were white with dust, and ruddier splashes of the warfare28 at Banbury showed here and there. It was as if the days of old were back again, and Northmen riding, with a single heart and purpose, to a second Flodden. They moved, not as six-score men, but as one; and when the old Squire drew rein29 presently, they, too, pulled up, answering the sharp command as a sword answers to the master's hand.
"By your leave, sir," said the Squire, "we come in search of Prince Rupert. Can you direct us to his lodging30?"
It happened that it was Digby he addressed—Digby of the soft voice, the face like a cherub's, and the tongue of an old, soured woman. "I could not say," he answered. Of all the Cavaliers there, he only was unmoved by the strength and fine simplicity31 of these riders into Oxford. "If I were aware where the Duchess of Richmond is to be found, I could direct you."
A stormy light came into the Squire's grey eyes. "We have heard of the Duchess. Her name is fragrant32 in the North, sir, save where ostlers gather at the tavern33 and pass gossip on for gaping34 yokels35."
"Countered, you dandy!" laughed Digby's neighbour. "Grooms36 in Oxford and grooms in the North—hey, where's the difference?"
"We shall prove it, sir, at dawn to-morrow," said Digby, his hand slipping to his sword-hilt.
The Squire of Nappa, looking at these two, guessed where the danger of the King's cause lay. Men see clearly when heart and soul and purpose are as one. If two of his own company had offered and accepted such a duel39 openly, he would have taken them, one in either hand, and knocked their heads together, in the interests of discipline. In Oxford, it seemed usual that private differences should take precedence of the King's service, and the Squire felt chilled for the first time since he rode out from Yoredale.
Prince Rupert had shared a late breakfast with the Duke of Richmond and the Duchess, who was, in heart and soul, a great lady beyond the reach of paltry40 malice41. Rupert was moody42, irritable43. He was sick for pageantry in the doing—gallop44 of his cavalry45 with swords glancing on Roundhead skulls46—blows given for the health of the reigning47 King, instead of play-acting to the memory of buried monarchs48. He was passionately49 disdainful of this pageant in which he was to play a part, though at the moment he was donning mediaeval armour50.
"No," said the Duchess. "There could have been no pageantry without you. Believe me, it is good for us to have action, if only in the playing—it lights dull days for us."
Rupert strode up and down the floor with his restless, long-legged stride. "I'm to figure as Richard the Crusader," he said, tired of himself and all things. "I ask you, friends, do I show like a Crusader?"
"Your temper of the moment does not, but a man's past goes with him," she broke in, with her soft, infectious laugh. "Of all the King's gentlemen I know, my husband here, and you, stand nearest to the fine crusading days. To please us both, you will play your part?"
Rupert was beyond reach of blandishment. There was a fire from the over-world about him; men and women grew small in the perspective, and only the vigour52 and abiding53 zeal54 he had for the King's service remained to guide him, like a taper55 shining through a night of trouble.
"Friends," he said, simply as a child, "I had a dream last night. I dreamed that prayers were answered at long last, and that the sea rode into Oxford—a gallant56 sea, creamed with white horses riding fast."
"How should that be?" laughed the Duke. "It was a tired man's dream."
"It was more," said Rupert sharply. "It was a true vision of the days to come. I tell you, the white horses rode into Oxford like a crested57 sea. I knew they came to help me, and I grew tired of pageantry." He smiled at his own gravity, and reached out for his Crusader's sword. "Come," he broke off, "Coeur de Lion should be punctual to the tryst58."
They came into the High Street, the three of them; and Rupert checked his horse with a thrill of wonderment. Not until now had he guessed what the strain of these last idle days had been. He saw the gallant sea ride into Oxford, as in his dream—saw it ride down to meet him, creamed with white horses moving at the trot. He was a free man again.
And then the crowd's uproar14 ceased. They saw Rupert, their idol59, spur forward sharply, saw the company of Metcalfs halt as one man when their Squire drew rein.
"You are the Metcalfs, come from York, I think," said Rupert. Ten years seemed lifted from him in a moment. "Gentlemen, we've waited for you. The King will make you very welcome."
"We came to find Prince Rupert," said the Squire of Nappa, uncovering, "and, God be thanked, I think we've found him. You are like my picture of you."
The Squire's errand was accomplished60. By hard stages, wakefulness o' nights, banter61 or the whiplash of his tongue by day, he had brought these high-mettled thoroughbreds into Oxford. It was a relief to take orders now, instead of giving them.
"Sir, they're asking for pageantry in Oxford," said the Prince, "and, by Richard Coeur de Lion, they shall have their fill. Permit me to command your troop."
The Duchess, not for the first time, was surprised by the right-to-be-obeyed that Rupert carried with him. Instinctively62 the Metcalfs made a lane between their sweating horses, and she found herself riding through the pleasant reek63 of horseflesh until they came to the end of this long avenue of men.
Rupert was himself again—no longer an idler, exchanging growls64 with enemies in Council, but a man, at the head of the finest cavalry even his proved judgment65 had encountered so far. When they came to the pageant field, he bade them dismount and do as they pleased for an hour; at the hour's end they were to be ready and alert.
When the King arrived by and by with his Queen, a great wave of loyalty66 went put to greet them. However it fared with his shifting fortunes, he was here among friends, and knew it. The knowledge was heartening; for Charles had gone through bitter struggle to keep an unmoved face when all he loved seemed racing67 to disaster.
The pageant moved forward; but the crowd was lukewarm until Richard the Crusader came, and then they went mad about the business.
"How they love him!" said the King, his face flushed with pleasure.
The Queen touched him on the arm as only wives do who have proved their men. "And you—how the good city loves you! To have captured Oxford's heart—ah, will you not understand how big your kingdom is? In London—oh, they are shopkeepers. In Oxford there is the great heart beating. Gain or loss, it does not matter here."
When the Crusading scene was ended, and while some affair of royalty68 granting a Charter to dull-witted burgesses was in the playing, Rupert came to the King's side. "There's a modern episode to follow, sir, if you are pleased to watch it."
"Ah, no!" pleaded the Queen, with her pretty blandishment. "It would be a pity, Rupert, to be less than Coeur de Lion. The armour fits you like a glove."
"I think you lived once in those days, Rupert of the fiery69 heart," laughed the King; "but no man thrives on looking back. Go, bring your modern mummers in!"
Rupert brought them in. He doffed70 his mediæval armour somewhere in the background of the field, and donned the raiment he liked better.
"Are you ready, Metcalfs?" he asked, pleasantly.
With the punctilio that was part of the man, he insisted that the Squire of Nappa should ride beside him at the head of this good company. They thundered over the field, wheeled and galloped71 back. It was all oddly out of keeping with the pageantry that had gone before. In playing scenes of bygone centuries men gloss72 over much of the mud and trouble of the times; but here were six-score men who had the stain of present traffic on them.
The King himself, grave and reticent73 since the troubled days came, clapped hands as he watched the sweeping74 gallop, the turn-about, the precision of the troop when they reined75 in and saluted76 as if one man had six-score hands obeying the one ready loyalty. But the Queen grew pitiful; for she saw that most of these well-looking fellows carried wounds and a great tiredness.
"What is this scene you play?" asked the King.
"Sir, it is the Riding Metcalfs, come to help me raise recruits for the relief of York. Coeur de Lion died long ago, but these Northmen are alive for your service."
"My thanks, gentlemen," said Charles. "By the look of you, I think you could relieve York without other help."
Rupert pressed home his point. "Grant us leave, sir, to go wide through Lancashire and raise the siege of Lathom first. My Lord Derby was here only yesterday, after long travel from the Isle77 of Man."
The Queen, knowing how persistently78 Lord Derby had been maligned79, how men had poisoned the King's mind against him, caught Rupert's eye and frowned at him. His nimble wit caught the challenge and answered it.
"Sir," he said, with the swiftness and assurance of a cavalry attack, "remember Lady Derby there at Lathom. She has held out for weary months—a woman, with a slender garrison80 to help her—has held out for the honour of the Stuart. Give me my Metcalfs, and other troops to raise, and grant us leave to go by way of Lathom House."
The King smiled. "I thought you a fighter only, Rupert. Now you're an orator81, it seems. Go, rescue Lady Derby; but, as you love me, save York. There are only two cities on the map to me these days—York and Oxford. The other towns count loss and gain, as tradesmen do."
Long stress of misunderstanding, futile82 gossip of courtiers unemployed83, dripping poison into the King's mind, were swept away. "As God sees me, sir, I ride only for your honour. The Metcalfs ride only for your honour."
At Lathom House, three days ago, there had been a welcome addition to the garrison. Kit85 Metcalf—he of the sunny smile, because he loved a maid and was not wedded86 to her whimsies87 yet—had ridden to the outskirts of the house, had dismounted, left his horse to roam at large, and had crept warily88 through the moonlight that shone on sleeping men and wakeful sentries89. On the left of the moat, near the rounded clump90 of sedge that fringed its turning, he saw two sentries chatting idly between their yawns.
"A poor affair; but, then, what could you look for from an officer of Rigby's breed? Sir Thomas Fairfax had no liking92 for the business. We've no liking for it."
Kit ran forward through the moonlight, gripped them with his right hand and his left—neither hand knowing just what the other was doing—and knocked their skulls together with the strength given him by Providence93. They tumbled forward over the brink94 of the moat, and Kit himself dived in.
When he came to the water's top again, he swam quietly to the further bank, then went in great tranquillity95 up the grassy96 slope that led him to the postern gate, and was surprised when he was challenged sharply. Remembering what he had gone through for the Stuart, he thought, in his simple country way, that comrades of the same breed would know him, as dog knows brother-dog, without further parley97. When he was asked who went there, his temper fired, though the wet of his crossing should have damped its powder.
"By your leave, yes," said the sentry99, with sudden change of front. "All Lancashire has heard of you. What is your business here?"
"To see Lady Derby instantly."
He was passed forward into the castle, and a grey-headed man-servant came to meet him. Again he said curtly100 what his business was.
"It is out of question, sir," the man protested. "My lady has had three sleepless101 nights. She gave orders that she should not be roused till dawn, unless, indeed, there was danger from the enemy."
Kit was headstrong to fulfil his errand to the letter. "Go, rouse her!" he said sharply. "I come from the King at Oxford, and my news cannot wait."
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1
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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preening
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| v.（鸟）用嘴整理（羽毛）( preen的现在分词 ) | |
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jealousies
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| n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 )；妒羡 | |
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wrangles
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| n.（尤指长时间的）激烈争吵，口角，吵嘴( wrangle的名词复数 )v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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badinage
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| n.开玩笑，打趣 | |
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tickling
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| 反馈，回授，自旋挠痒法 | |
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cardinal
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| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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wayfarers
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| n.旅人，（尤指）徒步旅行者( wayfarer的名词复数 ) | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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disarray
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| n.混乱，紊乱，凌乱 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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yokels
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| n.乡下佬，土包子( yokel的名词复数 ) | |
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grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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writhe
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| vt.挣扎，痛苦地扭曲；vi.扭曲，翻腾，受苦；n.翻腾，苦恼 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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reigning
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| adj.统治的，起支配作用的 | |
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monarchs
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| 君主，帝王( monarch的名词复数 ) | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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tryst
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| n.约会；v.与…幽会 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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doffed
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| v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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73
reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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75
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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76
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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maligned
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| vt.污蔑，诽谤（malign的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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80
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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81
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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82
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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83
unemployed
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| adj.失业的，没有工作的；未动用的，闲置的 | |
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84
prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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86
wedded
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| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
whimsies
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| n.怪念头( whimsy的名词复数 )；异想天开；怪脾气；与众不同的幽默感 | |
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88
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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89
sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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90
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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besiege
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| vt.包围，围攻，拥在...周围 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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94
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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95
tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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96
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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97
parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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98
wastrel
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| n.浪费者；废物 | |
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99
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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100
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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101
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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