Читать книгу Mistress Penwick - Dutton Payne - Страница 6

The adieux had been said, the night had come and gone, and with the dawn the tide drew away carrying with it a large vessel upon the deck of which stood Janet and Katherine wrapped in long traveling capes.

"'Tis the most wondrous sight I ever beheld! Thinkest thou the Bethlehem Star could have been more beautiful than yonder Lucifer. Indeed it seems, Janet, we see in all nature the reflection of the Christ; the birth of dawn; the presence of the star; these black waters. 'Tis awesome! Listen, Janet, thou must acknowledge thou hearest something more than plaint of ocean. 'Tis something more than sound. It fills me with an exultation I cannot analyze. Dost feel it, Janet?"

"I cannot tell what I feel, Mistress." And Janet covered her mouth to smother her laughter; first of all because she felt seasick, and secondly the child's words stirred in her no such youthful enthusiasm. She was not yet rejuvenated.

"And with all this glory of nature filling me I can less understand Sister Phelia's words at parting. Her eyes seemed to burn to my very soul as she said: 'Dost not feel as thou art leaving these sacred walls that thou art passing from a retreat where the Blessed Virgin ever guides thee?' 'I have felt her presence ever, said I. 'But 'tis better to renounce the world and have strength to live in seclusion,' she answered. I made bold and replied that I thought it required much greater strength to go on the battlefield of the world and be good than live within the impenetrable walls of a cloister where bin cannot come. 'But, child, thou wilt see beautiful things made by the hand of man that will fill thy heart leaving not room for the Divine Presence.' 'Nay,' said I, 'I shall see God's work in every beauteous thing and I shall trust Him for the gift of penetration to see through filthy rags and distorted body the beauty of the soul.' 'Twas her wish that I should write her once a year of my spiritual condition and to think of her as being happy in her isolation. And with this strange light about us, the farewell recurs to me and I wonder that human beings could shut themselves from so beauteous a thing as Nature in their fear of contamination by sin!"

"My Lambkin, 'they talk strongest who never felt temptation;' thou art going into a world thou hast not seen, much less, felt its power. Sister Phelia is right. We acknowledge the Divine Presence is everywhere; she intimated thou wert leaving a place where sin was not, to go where it abounded. There is one place, however, we may always be sure of finding the divine atom whether we be in seclusion or abroad; 'tis in our own heart and called before the ages, 'Holy Ghost.' Many of us fail to recognize it; others cry 'insolvency'; but the better part draw on it with confidence. It honours our call and gives us on demand, conscience, with which we can withstand all sin if we so desire."

The second day upon the water Janet fell a victim to mal-de-mer, and 'twas Katherine who turned nurse; and after four or five days Janet grew better and was half ashamed, veiling her confusion with self-accusation: "'Tis good enough for me, 'twas wrong to be eating pork, 'tis positively forbidden us. I lay it to that! I gave myself over to eating to make up for a fast of nine long years. Thou hadst not a qualm because thou hast been fed on wine and porridge and beef gruel and whey. The clearness of thy body speaks for a pure stomach. Let the awfulness of my condition warn thee. Thou must never grumble when I take from thee weightier food than thou hast been used to. But, Lambkin, we have had a glorious voyage inasmuch as we have had both calm and storm; had I been privileged to do the ordering, we could not have had better weather."

Janet and her mistress walked the deck when 'twas possible, from rise to set of sun, and Katherine expanded until her convent dress became straightened, and she retired to her bed while Janet let out seams, augmenting it to her mistress' further comfort and development.

It was almost with regret that they espied land; for Janet was anxious, and Katherine was apprehensive of the Scot, and as the white cliffs appeared to rise higher they each wished the sea journey had just begun.

At last they stood upon English soil, and so bewildered was Katherine she could only cling to Janet's dress like a frightened child; there was such a clamour, 'twas like pandemonium. The poor frightened thing was inclined to believe that the people were mad and raving, and was hardly called to concentration of thought when Lord Cedric's Chaplain stood before them dumbfounded by her beauty.

He was a pale, little man, who managed with difficulty to collect his senses and lead them to an equipage of imposing richness that stood not far away. And immediately after chests and sundry articles of travel were placed upon the coach, the rolling wheels carried them through the town and on beyond, over plains and hills and lonely moors, through forests of oak and beech, coloured in the grey of winter. Nor did the ponderous vehicle stop save for a hurried refreshment or a short night's rest at some wayside inn.

Lord Cedric's orders were not being strictly carried out. The Chaplain was to bring back to the castle Janet Wadham and baby. Here was the first-named, but where was the child? The little man was fearful he had made some mistake, and grew exceedingly nervous when they at last spied the battlements of Crandlemar Castle, and the child for whom he had gone must be accounted for.

Night was falling as the equipage bearing Mistress Katherine and her attendants passed between the massive stone pillars of the gate into the long avenues bordered by leafless trees; and when yet some distance from the castle, the occupants could catch glimpses of many lighted windows. Katherine lay back on the cushions tired, timid, half-fearful, wondering. Not so Janet; she craned body and neck fearful lest some small detail of the visible grandeur might escape her. In a moment more they had stopped at the great entrance, and immediately the ponderous doors were thrown wide by two ugly little dwarfs in magnificent livery. Out trooped other menials of perhaps less age and greater dignity, quickly gathering from the equipage the chests and bags and other articles of less cumbrousness. Mistress Katherine, with Janet by her side, was so blinded by the glare of lights and furbished gildings, she saw naught, but followed on up winding stairs, stepping twice upon each broad step; through corridors and alcoves and winding halls, and in her ears was the sound of men's and women's soft laughter, and she breathed the perfume of flowers, and inhaled as they passed some half-open door, the odour of paudre de rose and jasmine.

A woman older, less comely than Janet, and having the smirk of a perfunctory greeting upon her flabby face, stood within the room assigned to Mistress Katherine. As her eyes fell upon the maid, she stepped back surprised, and with a confusion she essayed to hide in her coarse voiced acknowledgment of their presence.

"The child, madam, where's the child? 'is Ludship sent me to take charge of the hinfant and 'er nurse."

Janet's voice rang like steel as she said—"Thou canst fondle me to thy heart's content, but the 'hinfant his' a maiden grown and well able to look after her own swathings; 'twould better serve thee and us to get thee below and prepare thine 'hinfant' grown some meat and wine with etceteras, and plenty of them, for she hath a lusty and ever-present appetite. But stay, where wilt thou cradle thy babe's nurse, in this room beyond the closet?" With a superhuman effort, as it were—the woman, confident of the importance of her position, and the forbearance such an one should have in dealing with the less consequential—suppressed her choler and raised her eyebrows, and spoke with the coldness of her betters.

"Thou wilt sleep there for a time, at least until 'is Ludship's guests 'ave gone; the nurseries 'ave been turned into guests' rooms—'is Ludship 'as Royalty beneath 'is roof and bade me take the—the child to the furth'rest room and keep hits squawking 'ushed!" With a deprecating gesture, she shuffled from the room.

'Twas a great square apartment, with low ceiling, a small hearthstone and an immense bedstead with tester and outer coverings of flowered chintz. The light from the two small candles upon the high mantel-shelf were dimmed by the greater light from the hearth.

With a long, heavy sigh, which ended in a quiet half-hearted laugh,

Katherine flung herself back in a huge chair and said—

"Art not afraid to lash tongues with a trusted servant of my Lord

Cedric? She may give thee an ill name."

"Nay, rather, if I had boxed' er hears' 'twould have been better. Indeed, if thou hadst been absent I should have brawled it with her. 'Ludship'—'tis the cant of a pot house wench—'is Ludship' to me, who has been consorting with Sister Agnes and Phelia and Drusah and the Mother Superior of the Ursuline. Wilt let me dress thee now?"

"Nay, Janet, I will cleanse my face and hands, have my supper—for I'm nearly famished, and jump into yonder bed that hath a lid—"

"Why, Lambkin, that is a tester, 'tis the first thou hast seen! But, Lambkin, I would have thee don thy pretty white dress and go down to more cheerful surroundings."

"Nay, Janet, I could not raise courage. Have my supper brought up!"

"My blessed Lambkin, I will take thee down and see that they give thee proper food for thy coach-jostled stomach. Thou shalt have a room and table to thyself. I'll see to it. I thought upon it coming up to this sky-begotten chamber. The toddy would freeze stiff and the pheasants grow to clamminess on so long and frigid a journey. I will dress thee and then will find my way down and make things ready for thy comfort and privacy."

'Twas a soft, white, clinging gown, high-necked and long-sleeved, with the perfume of incense in its folds, Janet vested her mistress in. The thick rolls of hair framing her face glinted with bronze and amber sheen. Her warm youthful blood coloured her countenance with the tints of the peach blossom. Thus she stood gloriously beautiful; ready for conquest.

Janet went below, nor was she gone long ere she came again to her mistress' side.

"Didst see any signs of petticoats. Janet?"

"Nay, mistress," and her voice was sober and intense. "I tried to find a servants' stairway, but it seemed all were grand and confusing. And every moment lackeys rushed by me bearing trays of smoking viands, and not even so much as looking my way. At last I found one I thought would take the time to answer a question and I asked him the way below. He answered me civilly and conducted me saying the while, that 'twas a grand party his Lord Cedric was having; members of the Royal family being present; he even mentioned the Dukes of Buckingham and Monmouth. The boy was so filled with good sense I am sure, Mistress, he spoke truly and that we are within a very great man's house. I found old flabby, and she took me to a cosy little room with a table ready spread. So come, my Lambkin, when his Lordship finds not a baby but a rare gem for his costly setting, his heart will bound with pleasure and he will regret he did not prepare for a great lady instead of an infant."

Timorously the maid followed Janet through intricate windings to the broad stairway.

"Janet, take me through the servants' passage for this once!"

"Nay, thou art a lady, and as such must keep to the grand aisles." So on they went traversing lofty corridors. In one of these they suddenly came upon a young gallant of youthful beauty; a mould of elegance and strength; his countenance was flushed and shaded by curling black hair that fell loose upon his shoulders. In his shapely, white, bejewelled fingers he held a blood-red rose, and as his eyes fell upon the most beautiful face he had ever beheld, he caught his breath and held the rose to his face to hide his devouring glances as she swept by him under the soft light cast by the sconces above her head. In a moment he was upon the stairway, breathless and panting, and leaning over, dropped the rose at her feet. Her face grew as rosy as the thing itself, but passing on made none other sign.

"'Tis a conquest thou hast made the first hour, and thou acknowledged thy victory with naught but a modest maiden blush. But, Lambkin, his body was not a match for thine; 'twas inclined to be too slender. I shall pick for thee a beau like Sir Williams's Romeo."

They had now come to where the table awaited Katherine, and Janet bustled about handing things for her mistress' convenience; then hurried out to send in the warm food from the oven.

"Janet, didst say the bird was a pheasant?—'Tis grand tasting!"

"Aye, Mistress, and there was a score of other things that I would not let thee eat; 'twould make pimples on thy snowy neck and shoulders."

"Dost think perchance the young man upon the stairway was the Duke of Monmouth? He was very handsome, Janet, I think he was very, very handsome."

"Thou dost have the names of the great upon thy tongue as commonly as thou sayest Janet; 'tis more than probable he is a country squire and—"

"Dear Janet, go get thy supper and get back to me, for I would rather remain here alone than in yonder chamber. 'Tis grand to live in so great a house, 'tis better than—than the convent. How soon shall I have fine frocks and jewels and—a beau like yonder one on the stairway?"

"Thou art becoming exercised prematurely; his Lordship may not condescend to visit his puling babe before his guests depart. In such case, thou wilt have time to cool thy haste. I will go now. Do not eat too much, Lambkin." Janet looked back admiringly as she left the room; her eyes upon her mistress' daintily ruddy face, smiling at her from between two tall candles.

Every appointment of room and table was essentially English, and Mistress Katherine cast her eye about wondering if 'twas so, or, were they Scotch? She inclined to the former, and a sigh of relief and happiness escaped her.

Suddenly there was a sound of hurrying footsteps with an accompanying one of broad Scotch oaths in no low key. A lackey carrying a bag-pipe rushed into the room and out again without noticing its occupant. At his very heels was a big Scotchman of large and ridiculous proportions; red hair, red face, red whiskers, red mustachios, and bandy-legs, petticoats and all; and a tongue ripping out hot oaths. In a moment Katherine was upon her feet, her eyes flashed forth indignation. The keen eyes of the Scot saw her at a glance. He looked, stared, then bent almost to the floor before her and waited thus for her to speak. She, not accustomed to the masculine courtesies of polite breeding, thought his attitude was too prolonged for either a bow of homage or humiliation; and she straightway in a voice that was tremulous with emotion, said:

"Has the bitterness of thy tongue taken root in thy stomach?" Quickly he raised himself at her first word and gazed with enamoured looks at the amber folds of hair, her glowing face; and with panting breath his eyes rested upon the round fulness of her form as it palpitated with rightful perturbance.

"Betake thyself before I inform Lord Cedric of thy presence!" And she rapped smartly her knife-handle upon the table. "Betake thyself, begone!" He did not stir nor find breath until she stood forth from the table and he saw her beauteous being from head to dainty toe of convent sandal. Then he found voice, and in broad Scotch begged her clemency, advancing toward her the while and almost kneeling in his humility.

"If I did not know the queen—"

"'Tis presuming for thee to speak of knowing her; thou dishonourest the noble plaid thou wearest. Begone from me, sir, instantly. Begone, I say!"

"Nay, I shall not begone. Tell me who thou art, I know thee not!"

"Tell thee? Nay, 'twould displease my lord if he knew I held converse with thee thus. He would no doubt send thee from the castle."

"But who is thy lord, pray?"

"Lord Cedric of Crandlemar!"

"Ah, ah—but it does not displease him. Lord Cedric says thou shalt talk to him the balance of his days." The maid shrunk further from him in sheer loathing. At the moment Janet entered, and the rough Scot turned upon her, and in a voice of command, said—

"Who is this maid, woman?" Janet scanned him for a moment and a bit of truth flashed upon her.

"'Tis the honoured daughter of Sir John Penwick," and she bowed to the floor.

"Ah! ah!!" He retreated in dismay and for a moment was silent, encumbered with emotions of surprise, admiration, wonderment and doubt. "Then thou art my ward and thou hatest me already—"

"Thou, thou Lord Cedric, the master of this great house?" And Katherine in the confidence of Janet's presence, laughed in scorn and swept from the room disdaining his commands to remain longer. For a moment he stood stunned as it were; then started toward the door and looked after their retreating forms, exclaiming the while—

"Ah!—ah!! Thou a convent baggage ordering the lord of the castle from thy presence. Never have I been so talked to before. Damn me, I love thy gorgeous self, thy beauteous body; thou my ward to have and to hold. I may if I choose say to thee, thou shalt, or thou shalt not. Hey, hey, there, Christopher!" He knocked loudly upon the panelling of the door. A lackey entered trepidated. "Go and bring in haste from Wasson the letter written by Sir John Penwick. Haste thee, mind!" He turned to the table as if the shadow of her being still rested there and spoke the continuation of his thought. "'Tis a bit of paper, Mistress Katherine, that has become of more worth than a king's ransom. The last will and testament of Sir John Penwick bequeathing to my father a priceless property—Thou wert slow, Christopher, but I forgive thee." He tore the letter from the lackey's hands and sat upon the chair drawing the candle to his convenience and read aloud:

"'Cedric: When we parted twenty odd years ago 'twas in anger. I hope thou hast forgotten it as I have.' My poor father had forgotten and yearned to tell him so. 'I'm upon my death-bed and my consolation is the remembrance of our mutual faith plighted to each other a short time before our quarrel. 'Twas the bit of Scotch blood in thee that brought us to contentious wrangle. I 'minded thee at the time thou wouldst grieve for thy hot words, and 'tis a balm I send thee for thy grieved heart; 'tis my baby Kate'—Baby, baby of course I thought her so and sent her to a nurse's nookery at the top of the towers to silence the wench's squawkings, and gave Stephen the care of the freshest young heifer, that the youngster might not lack for proper food, 'now under her nurse's care in the Ursuline Convent at Quebec. The child has been environed with all that is pure and good, and will come to thee with the sweet incense of the cloister clinging about her. I have heard but once of thee, and 'twas that thy young wife died leaving thee without heirs. If such be so, thou wilt find a solace in my baby. Guard her as thine own. I have only enough gold to send her with her nurse to thy protection.' She will be obliged to come to me for all things, and I will spoil my own pleasure by giving her before she asks. 'In my epistle to Janet Wadham I spoke of moneys and estates being in thy hands. 'Tis a lie that will bring to thy mind more vividly than aught else my personality—suppressio veri; but if thou findest a like propensity in my babe, thou wilt deal gently but firmly with her for its correction. I give into thy keeping more than house, lands or titles. I would direct clemency toward my beloved servant; she has proven most faithful. My wife truly loved her and at her child's birth was constantly tended by the vigilant Janet; and 'twas her desire she should remain always with the babe. Enclosed thou will find a letter to be given to my daughter upon her arrival to thy care; 'tis a letter of both welcome and farewell. Some day thou must tell her I am gone on my last journey, tell her when she is surrounded by pleasant distractions that she may not grieve. She knows naught of trouble, neither would I have her know. 'Tis possible she may have some religious ideas that are not identical with thine. She may be laden with all sorts of shrines, picture-books, candles, crosses and beads; these religion's playthings thou of sterner mould wilt hardly consider. My last wish and the one of greatest import to my child is that thou find for her a spouse of rank and fortune; 'tis my desire that she marry early to such an one. Ah, Cedric, if thou had hadst a son, their union would have been our delight; for when thou seest my Kate thou wilt see the most beautiful thing in life.'

"Aye, she is the most beautiful thing in life. She is mine, my very own, her father gives her to me for marriage—marriage, and 'tis a speedy one he asks, and she shall have it. I love her, love her, my whole being throbs with mad desire. She is the sweetest maid on earth, and I drink from the cup upon which her rich, red lips have rested; ah, 'tis sweet!" He poured a bumper and drank, then flung from the room with great strides.