Читать книгу Winds of Fortune - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 7
ОглавлениеTELLETH HOW, BEING A WOMAN, I GREW ACQUAINT WITH FEAR BECAUSE I WAS A WOMAN
Opening my eyes, I found myself outstretched voluptuously upon a great bed and, starting up in instant horrid fear, was something reassured to see myself still fully dressed save for my hat, cloak and spurred riding boots; so down I sank again, being yet sickened by the savagery I had so lately witnessed ... those murderous swords ... that gashed and bleeding face ... the remorseless, mocking figure of this Captain Japhet Bly.
And thinking of him and of my own present helpless plight, my natural courage and resolution well-nigh failed me; for if he could so use a man, what mercy should poor defenceless woman expect of such monster (thinks I, shuddering) and hid my burning face in the pillow, my pride all forgot, my poor body trembling for shame of its all too alluring womanhood. Then my heart leapt wildly, for a hand was upon the latch and, starting to an elbow, I stared in a sick terror as the door cautiously opened.
"Who ... who is it?" I gasped.
"Naught save me, ma'm!" answered a female voice, and I sank back in very ecstasy of relief as into the room came a woman whose kindly, beaming face showed gentle as her voice, so that crying I know not what, I reached out my hands to her and next moment was laughing and weeping in the shelter of her arms.
But presently, growing somewhat comforted, I looked up into her eyes and reading there naught but goodness and a sweet sincerity, I poured out the tale of my woes and haunting fears, beseeching her aid so humbly, yet with such passion, that she came near crying too for very sympathy.
"Oh, but ma'm," she murmured, "oh, my dearie, ye dunnot understand and I durst not tell ee—"
"Let me go," I whispered; "help me to escape ... give me a chance to steal away. Be the gentle, kind creature you seem and help me—"
"Oh, but ma'm, 'twould never serve ... if ye but knew—"
"Money!" said I.... "My purse—here, take it! And you shall have more ... much more, so much as you will—"
"Hush now, hush thee!" she sighed, her kindly face very troublous. "I may not ... 'twould be in vain; he would take thee again and perchance ... bloodshed ... prison."
"No matter, I'll risk my very life to win free of him," I pleaded. "Where is he now?"
"Busied a-doctoring yon poor gentleman's face, a-binding and a-plastering."
"But 'twas his own brutal hand that wrought the harm,—"
"And 'tis his own two hands that be now a-mending of it.... But, ma'm, Mistress Ursula, ah, my lady, y' do ha' forgot me sure, and no wonder. But I be Mercy Dale, as was once Mercy Brent, and you be that same little lady Ursula growed up, as used to visit the Great House at East Bourne, when I was second nursemaid. You'll not mind me, but you can't ha' forgot the little Earl ... my lord Aldbourne, as was your playfellow. You'll mind Charles, the little Earl, Mistress Ursula?"
"Yes, yes," I answered, "the little gentle boy that died—such gallant little fellow—"
"Died?" says Mrs. Mercy, opening her large soft eyes at me, "Died—ay, for sure! But how knew ye this?"
"I heard some such tale.... But oh, Mercy, an' you have any o' the old love for poor me, be bold to help me now for—" I caught my breath and we started from each other's arms, as a fist hammered on the door and a harsh voice growled:
"Mrs. Mercy, ma'm, you an' lady below: Cap'n orders!"
"Yes, sir," answered Mercy, rising nimbly and smoothing her neat gown. "Come you, my lady—'tis supper, tho' early—"
"No!" said I, clenching my hands and mighty resolute, "I'll not stir ... his detested face ... no, I'll bide here an' I must."
"Nay, but my dearie, come your ways now wi' me—"
"No—no!" cried I, again leaping from the bed. "I have no hunger and ... I do so loathe the mere sight of him I could not eat—"
"Oh, but madam, he ... there be naught o' harm shall touch ee. So come now, ma'm, come wi' me, lest he grow angered like and come after ee to take and make ee." Now at this, glancing from Mercy's pleading face to the door and then askance at the great bed, I shivered and, giving her my unwilling hand, suffered myself to be led forth and down a pair of stairs to a certain door, but here I stayed her to whisper.
"Who ... who was it carried me up to bed?"
"Why, ma'm," she whispered back, "who but himself, the ... the Captain." Then, setting my teeth, I threw open the door and stepped into a cosy chamber, its lattices open to the sunset glow and empty save for myself; moreover I saw the table was laid for but one.
"Thank God!" quoth I fervently.
"Eh,—what now, my dear lady?"
"I feared the infliction of the Captain's presence."
"Nay, ma'm, alack, I am prevented," murmured his detested, sleepy voice and in at the window came the odious head of him. "You behold me, ma'm humbly pleading you'll excuse my presence. Mrs. Mercy," says he, finding me dumb, "you may serve her most gracious ladyship and feed her well for what is to be."
"Yes, sir!" murmured the dame, with bobbing curtsey; then I was alone and this brutish Captain leaning in at the casement.
"Ma'm," says he, so soon as the door was shut, "your shy timidity of look and fear-averted eyes do gratify me extremely, for by these same I judge your prideful spirit beginneth to bow, thy heart to leap, thy flesh to chill, for fear o' this poor Japhet ... and all so very soon!"
Now at this I turned on him but, mindful of that room above stairs, I checked the fiercely disdainful retort upon my lips and sinking wearily upon the nearest chair, turned my back on him. So for a while was a silence, wherein he seemed distractingly and utterly still, even as I; then he chuckled and I heard his spurs go a-jingling off across the yard. So came I to the lattice to look with yearning eyes towards those far green slopes beyond which lay freedom, and for a moment had some wild thought of flight till, chancing to espy the man Absalom watching me, silvery head acock, I sighed dismally and turned from the window to see the door open and there, to my joyous wonderment, my own devoted Deborah.
"Oh, madam," cried she, and then we were in each other's arms. "Art safe, ma'm?" she questioned in her breathless fashion. "Art safe ... unharmed ... no wise touched ... this naughty villain...."
"All is well—so far, thank kind Heaven. But how came you here, my Deb ... to my need, how?"
"Oh, ma'm ... my lady, 'twas him, this des'prate fightsome Captain, himself bade me to thee, he did. But oh, alack for Gregory!"
"Ah, what ... what hath he done to poor Gregory?"
"Oh, shameous, ma'm! They ha' so plied him atwixt 'em that he lieth sadly drunk and snoring. But oh, Mistress Ursula, what shall befall us this night—you so beauteous and me so—so timid o' mankind and this place full o' men ... clawsome tigers and ravensome wolves and us like two poor frighted lambs.... Oh, Mistress Ursula, what ... what must us do?"
"Keep together," I answered calmly as I might. "We must keep ever close, Deborah, and seem unafraid—and whatsoever befalls, no matter how, no matter where, you lie with me, this night."
"Ay, I will, ma'm, I will! I'll cling to thee so close wild tigers shall not drag thee from me whiles I live,—no, nor any two-legged tiger either."
