Читать книгу The Captain of the Wight (Frank Cowper) - comprehensive, unabridged with the original illustrations - (Literary Thoughts Edition) - Frank Cowper - Страница 7

By the time Ralph had reached Winchester, he had learned the names of his future companions, and had already had occasion to experience their love of practical joking, tempered, however, in this case, by the presence of their lord and his gentlemen.

The eldest of the pages was Willie Newenhall, and Ralph was not long in seeing that he was thought little of by the other three, who made him a butt for their wit, which, however, seemed to fall very harmlessly on its object.

"You see he's so parlous full of conceit, he never knows we are making game of him," said Richard de Cheke,[*] the youngest of the pages, and by far the liveliest.

[*] The old family of the Chykes, Cheikes, or Chekes, held the manor of Mottestone from 1370 to 1600, from whom the manor passed to the Dillingtons and Leighs of North Court. Sir John Cheke of their family was professor of Greek in Cambridge, and in 1544 was tutor to Edward VI.

"But when he doth find out, certes he groweth angry?" asked Ralph.

"Nay, what care we for his anger? Even I, small as I am, can teach him a lesson in all things, saving the care of his person and the filling of his skin."

"Marry, young one," said a well-grown, shapely youth, who was riding a little behind and to the left of Ralph Lisle, "here's a missive of great import, 'tis even the business of the last come page to take all such to our right worshipful bear-leader and timber breaker, old Jack in Harness himself. So do thou take it, before worse comes of it."

So saying, the youth handed Ralph a bit of paper, folded neatly, and addressed in a stiff scrawl, "Toe ye rite worchipful Syr Jakke yn Harneis."

"And who is he?" said Ralph, looking at the scrawl and then at the youth.

"Who is he, quotha? why, that you'll soon know, an you do not my bidding. That's the puissant, right valiant, and thrice-renowned knight to whom my Lord Woodville handed thee over, even as we have been handed over, to learn chivalry, and all courtesy. Therefore say I, take you this to him right promptly."

Ralph was a little puzzled. The whole was said so seriously, and in such evident good faith, that he thought he might be violating some rule already. The youth was obviously older than himself, and was doubtless a page of some months' standing. He thought on the whole it would be better to obey, trusting to his good luck to get him out of the scrape with their master if there were any trick, and to his own arm to punish the perpetrator of the joke, if it were one.

"Now, my youngling, what dost wait for?" said the page, whose name was Eustace Bowerman, and who was a second cousin of the lively young page Richard Cheke.

"Why, in sooth I am in doubt whether thou art not making game of me," said Ralph, with a good-humoured twinkle in his eye.

"This cock will crow soon," said young Cheke to the other page, who was on his right; "eh, Maurice?"

"Marry will he. We will pit him against Eustace; they'll make a rare match. Albeit Eustace is the older, I'll lay the new one will beat him. There's a deal of weight in his thews. Look at his leg as he sits his hackney."

"Shall we tell him Eustace is making game of him?"

"Nay; best let him give the missive to old Jack in Harness, and see what comes of it. List; Eustace is taking him to task. I' faith, he doth it well."

"Hark ye, sirrah! You are but just come out of the country, or I'd be wroth with thee; but as it is, I forgive thy manners. Know that all new pages have to do the bidding of the older ones without question, under pain of a leathern strap, and worse torment. Now get thee on thy message."

"Nay, fair page," said Ralph smiling, "I would be loth to do aught that should be misbecoming, and will ever obey in all that I ought, with all humility, but I am not sure in this that I ought to do your behest. Nevertheless, rather than be thought churlish, I will do what you want, only not, I pray you to understand, because I fear your talk of leathern straps and such like, of which I have little dread from thee, but because 'tis the first matter I have been asked to do, and I would rather seem to be over willing to oblige than churlish of mood."

"By my faith, 'tis a good answer," said the last page who had spoken to Richard Cheke, and who was the only one of the pages who was of high birth. He was a son of Anthony, Lord Scales, brother to Lord Woodville, and therefore himself a Woodville, and nephew to the present Captain of the Wight, which office his father had previously held.

"I like this youth dearly, even now--he will be a gain to us. Thou knowest I never cared over-much for thy kinsman Bowerman, he is so mighty coxcombified, and I would much like to see him overmatched," continued Maurice Woodville.

They had now entered the old city of Winchester, whose streets were very narrow, and made more so by the concourse of people, who all came thronging out and stood at their doors and along the pavement to see the gay troop pass.

Ralph, as he said he would deliver the note to Sir John Trenchard, took the opportunity of doing so when they were nearing the city cross, then not more than about fifty years old, perhaps, and where there was more room. He rode up alongside of the old knight, and, doffing his cap, presented to him the missive.

The old knight, who was short-sighted and rather choleric, besides being a very indifferent scholar, took the paper, and stared at Ralph.

"Eh, this for me?" he said shortly; then holding the piece of paper close to his nose, he called out,--"Why--what--By St Thomas! what meaneth this? Boy, art playing me some trick? Is this a time for thy discourteous pranks?" cried the old knight, in high wrath, crumpling up the paper, and flinging it at Ralph. "Tell me what meaneth this! Who gave thee this?"

But Ralph determined he would bear the blame himself, and settle it with his practical joker afterwards, so he said,--

"Noble sir, I was told to give it thee, so I did."

"By St Nicholas! but if thou hadst had mud given thee to bear to me, thou wouldst have done it, wouldst thou? Get thee back for a simpleton, and tell me all afterwards, when I call for thee."

They were now passing a cross street, very narrow and awkward. There was a block in front, so that Lord Woodville halted exactly opposite this street. He was talking to the Abbot of Quarr, who was on his left. Ralph was immediately behind, but a horse's length distant. The rest of the gentlemen were engaged talking together or looking up at the windows, where the burgesses' wives and daughters were gazing down at the gallant show of men-at-arms and gentlemen.

Suddenly, a drove of cattle which was being driven to market crossed the narrow street a little way down. Among them was a magnificent bull--very fierce and irritated with its journey. Seeing the red blazon on Lord Woodville's surcoat, with a bellow of fury he broke from his driver and turned down the street leading to where that nobleman was quietly sitting, with his head turned away talking to the Abbot, and rushed madly at him. It was but a very little distance, and there was no time for warning. In another second the fierce bull would have gored the noble horse and trampled on Lord Woodville.

Ralph, without a moment's hesitation, struck spurs into his horse, which gave a leap forward. He had thought of nothing but of interposing himself between his lord and the raging brute. Fortunately for him, he was not in time. But his gallant steed struck full against the shoulder of the bull with such violence that it knocked the animal over, and Ralph's horse came down at the same time, flinging his rider over his head.

The whole thing had passed so rapidly, and, from the position of the chief performers in the occurrence, was so little seen, that scarcely anybody knew what had happened. Lord Woodville was the first to take in the situation, and seeing the position of the bull, the horse, and the boy, was alarmed for the latter's safety. The horse had stumbled over the bull, which was struggling and kicking wildly with its legs, while, fortunately, Ralph had been thrown clear of them both. He still held the reins in his hands, but he did not move.

"By'r Lady! the child's dead!" cried Lord Woodville, drawing his sword, and leaning down from his horse. So close was the huddled mass of struggling animals, and so narrowly had he escaped destruction, that, without dismounting, he calmly passed the keen edge across the upturned neck of the bull, which gave a few wild plunges and then lay still.

"See to the horse," said the Captain of the Wight, as he got off his own animal and went up to Ralph. There was blood flowing from the side of his head. He had been thrown with considerable force on to the pavement.

The crowd began now to understand what had happened, and the crush became great.

"Clear me a way, knaves!" cried Lord Woodville. "Keep back the varlets, Sir John; and go for a leech, Eustace Bowerman."

Humphrey had by this time made his way to the place where the accident had occurred. Directly he saw it was his young master who was lying on the ground, he pushed sturdily forward, regardless of everyone.

"Body o' me! what will my lady say, if aught evil should befal Master Ralph? He isn't dead, my lord?" he asked anxiously of Lord Woodville, who was bending over the boy.

"Nay, he is not dead; but is there no leech nigh?"

At this moment a shopman came up to Lord Woodville and offered to take the wounded gentleman into his house out of the crowd. This offer was willingly accepted, and the boy was carried in by Humphrey and Maurice Woodville. They took him into a back room, and the mistress of the house bathed his head and staunched the blood. Ralph slowly opened his eyes. Seeing the look of returning consciousness, Lord Woodville left the house, mounted his horse, and went on to his lodgings, which had been taken for him near the cathedral.

Humphrey was left in charge, and the Abbot, who had dismounted when he saw his kinsman taken into the house, having seen that the boy was in safe hands and doing well, went away also to his lodgings.

Very few knew how the accident had occurred, most thought that the bull had charged the boy. Only Lord Woodville, Sir John Trenchard, and the Abbot had seen the noble action of the boy. His fellow pages had seen him urge his horse forward, but could not see for the projecting houses what else had happened. About half an hour after the accident, a timid knock came at the door, and Humphrey was surprised to see the young girl who had been their companion on their journey to Winchester, standing there when he opened it.

"Well, young wench, what dost thou want?" he asked familiarly.

"My father has heard what has happened, and as he could not leave thy pony, he has sent me to ask how Master Lisle doeth," said the girl quietly, and in an educated voice.

"Grammercy, 'tis parlous kind of thy father, and, for a poor vagrant, it showeth much strange breeding. Tell thy father Master Lisle doth well, and will be on his legs anon."

The girl then shut the door very gently, and Humphrey returned to the bedside of his young Master.

"Humphrey, I feel right hungry," said the boy presently; "canst get me a bit of something to eat?"

"Ay, marry can I!" cried Humphrey cheerily. "That's right good news--I'll be back anon," and he left the room in search of some food.

He had scarcely been gone two minutes when another rap came at the door. Ralph bid them come in, and Maurice Woodville, accompanied by Richard Cheke, entered.

"Well, youngling, and how dost thou fare?" said the latter, in a kind tone. "Thou hast done well for a beginner, and I'd give a good deal to be lying there in thy place. Why, Maurice, he's had the good luck, hasn't he?"

"Ay truly. Thy fortune's made, lad. We've come from the Lord Captain to inquire into thy estate, and to bring thee these dainties from his own table, in case thy wounds allow of thine eating."

"Grammercy," cried Ralph joyously, "my varlet hath but now gone out to get me some provender, for I feel parlous hungry."

"Then here's what will tickle thy gizzard right merrily. John, bring in the cates."

A serving-man entered bearing a basket, out of which he took first a very clean damask cloth; this he spread neatly on a table, which he placed close to the bed; then he took out a dish covered with a plate. he put a knife and fork and winecup by the side of the plate, which he removed, and disclosed two large salmon trout, with a garnish of fresh watercresses. A flagon of ruby red Burgundy followed, flanked by some tasty-looking rolls, fresh butter, and cheese.

"There, my friend, there's a dainty little banquet for thee; eat, drink, and get well," said Richard.

Ralph sat up, he had his head bandaged. He felt in his wallet for his purse, and handed the servingman a groat, and then he attacked the food with all the ardour of a healthy appetite, contented with himself and all the world.

Whilst their new comrade was refreshing himself, the other pages talked of all their pastimes and occupations, and freely discussed the virtues and failings of their companions and superiors. They made no secret of their dislike of Eustace Bowerman, and utter contempt for Willie Newenhall.

"I tell you what, Lisle, when you're quite game again, we'll get up a tilt between you and Bowerman, and I'll bet my greyhound pup to what you like, you'll beat him," said Maurice Woodville.

"But I have never tilted yet," said Ralph, rather ashamed of the admission.

"Oh, what matter; you sit your horse like a stout jockey, and you'll very soon learn where to place your lance. Old Tom o' Kingston'll soon teach you that, trust him!" cried Richard Cheke.

"Shall I get into a scrape with Sir Jack in Harness, as you call him?"

"No fear. Old Jack is a right good chap, and he'll stand your friend. He knew you were put up to that game by one of us, and I don't doubt he knows very well which it was; but even had you done it yourself, what you did just now will make him your friend for life. He's a tough old ironsides. His father was constable of Carisbrooke Castle in good Duke Humphrey's time, and he's seen a lot of hard knocks. There's not much he loves, but he dearly loveth a hard fight, and my Uncle Woodville."

"Ay, marry he doth," said Richard; "and you've shown him you're made of good stuff for the one, and saved the life of the other."

"It's great sport your coming just now. Dicky and I are a match for Bowerman together, but that great lout Willie Newenhall just turns the balance. He's a mortal coward by himself, but with Bowerman to back him, his fat weight is too much for us; but now you, with your stout limbs and big body, could beat them both single-handed. Do you ever get into a rage?" said Maurice.

"No, not often," said Ralph, laughing. "I was always told to keep my temper. Now, Jasper, he often lost his, and so I thrashed him at most things."

"Ah!" said Maurice, sighing, "I wish I could keep mine. I do get so mad when Bowerman sneers at me."

And so the boys wiled away the time until Humphrey came back with one of the servants of the Abbot of Quarr, and a grave ecclesiastic, who was the infirmarer of Hide Abbey.

The boys, with the courtesy which was especially a part of their education, rose when they saw this dignified monk enter, and remained standing while he undid the bandages, and examined Ralph's cut.

"'Tis a light matter," he said to Humphrey; "thou canst tell my Lord Abbot he need be in no wise anxious--the boy will be healed by to-morrow. Thou hadst best keep quiet to-day, young master, and if thou hast a quiet night, thou mayest travel to-morrow whithersoever thou mindest. But drink but little wine, my son, for wine is heating for a wound, and may bring on fever."

"May we offer thy Reverence a cup?" said Maurice Woodville.

"Thank thee, fair sir, but I touch not wine, except it be ordered me."

However, Humphrey and the lay brother had no such scruples, and quaffed off a cup each, directly Dicky offered it them.

The two pages now took leave of Ralph, saying they must not tarry longer, as their lord would wish to hear how they had sped; but they promised to come again as soon as they could.

When Humphrey and Ralph were alone, the latter said,--

"Humphrey, it seems years since I left home, and yet it was but four hours agone."

"Ay, Master Ralph, time flies apace when one is busy."

"Didst thou see to my horse?"

"Trust me, Master Ralph; he's ne'er a bit hurt, not even a scratch. He knocked over that bull like ninepins, so they tell me. But, marry, 'twas a mercy you didn't get in front of him. You mustn't be that rash again. Whatever would they have said to me up Thruxton way?"

"Humphrey, I want you to see after that poor vagrant and his daughter. Mother was kind to them. I would like to help them over to the Isle of Wight, where they are going. You have seen to my pony?"

"Not yet, but I will by-and-by."

"Then take them this noble, 'twill help them to a night's lodging and food," said Ralph shyly, drawing out a coin from his purse.

Humphrey took it surlily.

"I don't know as how you did ought to go giving away your mother's presents like this, Master Ralph; you'll be wanting all your money among them gay springalds yonder, I'm thinking."

"Nay, Humphrey, do my bidding," said Ralph quietly.

And so Humphrey went off shaking his head, and muttering,--

"Young master be right masterful. The saints grant he be not led astray to overmuch almsgiving. I'd rather see him squander a bit on his own sports. 'Twould be more akin to his age."