Читать книгу The Jade of Destiny - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 5

CHAPTER III
INTRODUCETH AN EARL

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His youthful lordship the Earl of Aldrington sat up in bed, clasped his young temples and moaned, whereupon to him sped a soft-footed creature who bowed:

“Is your lordship awake?”

“Fool, can’t ye see? Ay, I’m awake and would I were dead!”

“Ah, nay, my lord, no no——”

“Aye, but I do, Mervyn. Was I so vastly drunk last night, was I?”

“Not so, my lord. I protest your lordship was no more than a little merry.”

“Ha, this shall account for my present woe!” groaned the earl, cherishing pain-racked brow.

“Will your lordship be pleased to take breakfast?” enquired the soft-voiced Mervyn, his narrow eyes strangely at odds with the servility of tone as he surveyed his young master’s abject misery. “Will your lordship eat——”

“No!” cried the earl, shuddering violently. “Curse all food! Curse everything! Where’s Will Thurlow?”

“Your Lordship’s ... head groom, my lord?”

“Who else, fool? Where is he, I say?”

“With his horses belike, my lord, though as your lordship will perceive, I am seldom in his company, being your lordship’s own body-servant and gentleman o’ the chamber.”

“Then go fetch him!”

“What—here, my lord? A groom! In your lordship’s privy chamber?” The earl uttered a peevish oath, and snatching off his night-cap, hurled it furiously at Mervyn who bowed and, picking it up as it were some holy relic, placed it tenderly on the bed.

“If your lordship would but take somewhat,—a capon’s wing, a sip or so of spiced Canary or mulled sack——”

“Malediction—no!” howled the earl. “Go summon Will, mine honest Will—nay, first, who was with me last night? Who attended me home?”

“Divers noble gentlemen, my lord, oh, indeed a many—your lordship being so run after and the admiration of the Court, in good sooth! Your lordship held noble company last night and among them chief, my lord Riderwood and Sir Walter Fearn——” The young earl moaned, frowned and sinking back amid his pillows, closed his eyes.

“What o’clock is’t?” he demanded, feebly.

“High noon, my lord. Will your lordship be dressed?”

“No damme! Hence and bid Will Thurlow to me, and thereafter stay below stairs till I ring. Dispatch!”

“At your lordship’s humble service!” sighed Mervyn, and again his eyes mocked his humility as he bowed and vanished, silent as ever. And after some while was clump of heavy bolts, and thump on the door, which opened to admit one clad in the earl’s handsome livery, a huge fellow, yellow-haired, blue-eyed and young who, blinking upon his young master’s palely delicate features, pulled his forelock, bobbed curly head and spoke in broad South country speech:

“Wot be ee a-wantin’ wi’ I, young maister?”

“Come in, man, come in and shut the cursed door!” cried the earl, fretfully. “Now hither to me! Sit ye on the bed, sit man, sit! Will, I’m direly sick!”

“Which beant no’ow nowise to be marvelled at, m’lord,” answered Will, shaking his head slowly.

“What d’ye mean, my rogue, what the devil d’ye mean?”

“As these yere furrin wines and kickyshaws don’t nohow set sweet or proper on a English stummick, m’lord, and your innards being English, well—there y’are!”

“Will, ’tisn’t all the wine, no. Gad’s life man, I can drink with the best of ’em!”

“Ay and wi’ the worst too, m’lord.”

“Ha, the worst, sirrah, the worst? Now damme what’ll ye mean by the worst?” Will blinked sleepily and scratched his yellow head; quoth he:

“Well, young maister, I dunno,—only theer be my lord Riderwood for one and for another——”

“Presumptuous dog, these be gentlemen o’ quality!”

“Ay but which quality, m’lord?”

“And my friends, jolthead, what’s more!”

“Ay, more’s the pity on’t, young maister!”

“Bring me a drink, Will.”

“Thisyer wine, m’lord?”

“No, to the devil with it! Water, man, water!”

So big Will, moving with a wondrous lightness, rose and brought the water, holding the goblet while his lord drank thirstily.

“Ha, by heaven, Will, there’s naught so good as water—when a man be truly athirst.”

“Ay, m’lord!”

“How dost like London town, Will lad?”

“Which, sir, for fine folks as wants a bullabaloo o’ noise, and smells, and streets as goes every whichsoever way, and folk as jostles, why there be no place to match it nohow. But for I—Lordy-lord, gimme Aldrington and the good, green country! To be out arter the fish Exat way, you an’ me, m’lord, like us used! Or prawns over to Birling Gap! Or galloping the Downs upalong High-and-Over! Or sailing off Seaford! God bless us, that be life, that be!”

“Peace, fool!” snarled the earl. “Hold your plaguey tongue!”

“Ay, sir!”

“And sit down again!”

“Ay, sir!”

“And,—hearkee, Will.”

“A-hearkin’ I be, m’lord.”

“Will, I’ve lost a vast deal o’ money!”

“Ay, sir!”

“So much, Will man, that I dread to think on’t.”

“Ay, sir!”

“Never was such fiendly ill-luck! Dice or cards, I cannot win!”

“Ay, sir!”

“Ha done with your cursed ’ay, sir’! Can’t ye say aught else, fool?”

“Ay, marry and I might, m’lord.”

“Then a God’s name—say it!”

“Why then, m’lord,” said Will, blinking more sleepily than ever, “wi’ dice nor cards ye cannot win and so it is ye do lose——”

“Here’s dizzard’s babble!”

“I aren’t done yet, m’lord. For ye lose because others do win and they wunt lose nor you can’t win until they’ve won all ye have to lose and, well—there y’are m’lord!”

The youthful earl glared at his young head-groom and erstwhile slave and playfellow, and, despite his guileless look and sleepy blue eyes, had an uneasy feeling that this golden-haired young giant was not the simpleton he seemed.

“Art good, faithful fellow, Will, God bless thee. But ... i’ faith Will, ’twixt you and me, I’ve lost ... ay, curse it, I’m dipped so deep I dread my sister hearing on’t! So ... on thy life no word to Ione, be secret or I ... I cast ye off to the devil.”

“No need for to threat me, sir. And which do mind me, sir, my lady Ione she wrote a letter for ye.”

“Why then give it me.”

“Which I can’t, m’lord, seein’ as ’tis bore by a gentleman.”

“Then go fetch it, I say.”

“But, sir, ’tis the gentleman do say as he must deliver it to none but your own self.”

“A murrain on the fellow! What manner o’ person is he?”

“Right proper, sir, and saith he but lives to know your lordship.”

“Ha, a well-mannered, seemly person is he?”

“Ay, sir!”

“Then give me my night-cap. Now go say he may present himself. And send Mervyn—nay, come you instead.” So away clumped Will and presently returned ushering in a bowing, comely personage whose dress, though rich, smacked something of the country, as my lord was instant to perceive.

“You are new to London, sir?” he enquired.

“My lord, but this hour arrived and with here an epistle writ by your lady sister on my behalf.” The young earl graciously accepted the letter and, having read it, glanced at the bearer with a kindly tolerance.

“My sister is pleased to commend you to my notice and protection, Master ... Master Dinwiddie.”

“I am honoured, sir.”

“She writes that you seek my patronage.”

“ ’Tis my very earnest desire, my lord.” The earl sank back amid his pillows and surveyed his petitioner at ease; this tallish, shapely person whose lean, aquiline face was lit by such arresting grey eyes, heavily-lashed and, just now, very properly abased before my lord’s searching regard and whose hands (too heavily gauntleted for my lord’s fine taste) fumbled awkwardly with a hat better suited to cloddish squire on village green.

My lord having thus pondered the gentleman, from dark head to long, buckskin riding-boots, was touched by his very evident diffidence, and became the more gracious.

“Mr. Dinwiddie,” said he languidly, “a se’ennight hence I wait upon her Majesty.” Mr. Dinwiddie bowed, “introduced by that famous gentleman and soldier, Lord Willoughby.” Mr. Dinwiddie bowed again. “On the which occasion, sir, you yourself shall attend me if ... ha ... you will submit yourself to the care of Monsieur Dupont, my tailor.”

“Your lordship is vastly generous!” murmured Master Dinwiddie, and bowed yet again while my lord sighed plaintively, hand to throbbing brow, and tall Will smiled broadly behind the great bed-curtains.

“To-night, sir,” continued the earl, “hither to my house resort certain young gentlemen to sup with me and thereafter ’tis like we may fall to this new game of Primero or toss a main or so at Hazard, you may join us, sir. I shall make you known to them.”

“In faith,” exclaimed Mr. Dinwiddie in a transport, “I vow your lordship is so infinite condescending I am bold to sue like favour on good friend of mine, a gentleman, like myself, of the country, nobly descended though little instruct in fashions courtly, a Mr. Florian Ferndale, my lord.”

“He may come, sir. Ye shall be expected at six o’clock. Ye shall sup with me. Sir, my hand! So for the nonce farewell! Attend the gentleman forth, Will, and bid Mervyn to me.”

The Jade of Destiny

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