Читать книгу Boscobel or, the Royal Oak - William Harrison Ainsworth - Страница 16

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Amid his manifold distractions, Careless had not forgotten pretty Mary Rushout. Twice had he seen her at her grandmother's dwelling in Angel-lane, but on the second occasion she prayed him with tears in her eyes never to come to the house again.

"We must part," she said; "and it would have been better if we had never met. Urso, you know, is exceedingly jealous, and keeps the strictest watch over me. He saw you enter the house last night, and waited outside till you departed."

"He must have waited long," remarked Careless, smiling.

"Ah! it's no laughing matter, I can assure you," cried Mary. "Urso is a terrible man. I won't tell you how bitterly he reviled you, but he said you had better look to yourself if you came to Angel-lane again. I shouldn't wonder if he is on the watch now. Ay, there he is of a surety," she added, stepping towards the little lattice window, and peeping out into the lane.

"Heed him not," cried Careless, drawing her back. "I was going—but, to punish him, I'll stay an hour longer."

"No, no—you mustn't—indeed you mustn't!" she exclaimed. "It will drive him frantic, and when he is in one of his rages, he is capable of killing me. You must go immediately."

"Impossible, sweetheart. I have much to say to you. Don't trouble yourself about this jealous Roundhead. Leave me to deal with him. I'll crop his ears still more closely to his head. Why don't you give him up?"

"Unluckily, I've plighted my troth to him, or I would."

"Never mind, that, sweetheart. I'll liberate you from your pledge."

"You graceless Cavaliers will swear anything, and care not for breaking your vows—that's what Urso says."

"Truce to Urso. You will believe me, when I swear that I love you."

"No; because I find you do not regard an oath."

"Bah! promise to love me."

"No; because it would be sinful to make such a promise. Urso himself would say so."

"Urso again!—confound him! I must find means to free you from this tie—even if I sever it with my sword."

"That won't make me love you—rather hate you. But you must really go. Pray do not quarrel with Urso."

"If he stops me, I shall assuredly chastise him. Adieu, sweetheart! Expect me at the same hour to-morrow?"

"No, no—you must not come—indeed, you must not."

But she seemed so little in earnest, that Careless construed her prohibition in the opposite sense, and believed she wished him to come.

As he went forth, Angel-lane—a narrow street running nearly parallel with the walls on the north of the city, in the direction of All Hallows—appeared quite deserted, and he thought that Urso Gives was gone. But he had scarcely reached the church, when a tall figure stepped from behind a buttress and barred his path.

"Out of my way, fellow!" he cried, haughtily, feeling sure it was Urso.

"Not till I have spoken with you," rejoined the other, maintaining his ground.

The Independent then continued, in a stern, menacing voice, "On the peril of your life, I forbid you to re-enter the house you have just profaned by your presence. You have beguiled the damsel who dwells there by your false speeches, and have sought to corrupt her. You cannot feign ignorance that she is my affianced wife, for I myself heard her tell you so."

"Since you have been playing the spy, you might easily have learnt that I am coming again to-morrow night at the same hour," rejoined Careless, in a mocking tone.

"Think it not," rejoined Urso, fiercely. "Since you will not be deterred from your evil courses by the warning given you, look to yourself!"

And suddenly drawing forth the long tuck-sword which he held under his cloak, he placed its point at the other's breast.

Careless sprang back and so saved his life, and drawing his own sword, their blades were instantly crossed.

Notwithstanding his eminently peaceful vocation, Urso proved no contemptible swordsman, and Careless failed to disarm him as soon as he expected. The clash of steel roused the inmates of the houses, and some of them opened their doors, but when they perceived that an officer of rank was engaged with a Roundhead they did not interfere.

Mary Rushout, however, came forth, screaming with terror, and reached the combatants just as Careless, having knocked Urso's weapon from his grasp, seized him by the throat, and forced him down upon his knees, exclaiming:

"Sue for mercy, caitiff hound, or I will despatch thee!"

"Spare him, gentle sir!—spare him!" cried Mary, seizing the Cavalier's arm.

"He owes his worthless life to your intercession, sweet Mary," cried Careless, spurning Urso from him. "If he is not sufficiently grateful for the obligation, let me know, and I will sharpen his gratitude. Adieu, till to-morrow!"

And sheathing his sword, he strode away.

Quite crestfallen at his discomfiture, and eager to escape from the jeers of the neighbours who had come forth, Urso picked up his tuck-sword and hurried back to the house with Mary.

What passed between them need not be recounted. It will be sufficient to state the result.

Not till the second evening after the occurrence just described, did Careless return to Angel-lane. His duties to the king had detained him in the interval.

After tapping softly at the door of Mary's dwelling, he raised the latch, but the door was fastened, and he was compelled to knock more loudly. Still, no answer to the summons. He listened intently, but not the slightest sound was to be heard within; neither was any light visible through the little lattice window.

While he was making another ineffectual attempt to obtain admittance, a glover, who lived next door, came forth and told him that Dame Rushout and Mary were gone.

"Gone! Whither?" cried Careless.

"That is more than I am able to inform your honour," replied the glover; "but you are not likely to see Mary again, since Master Gives has taken her way."

"'Sdeath! did she consent to go with him?"

"She could not very well refuse, seeing that she has become his wife," responded the glover.

"Amazement!" cried Careless. "I could not have believed she would wed him."

"No one expected it, though the marriage has been long talked of," said the glover. "But we think her grandam must have wrought upon Mary to consent—for she herself seemed wondrously reluctant. Be this as it may, and I cannot speak for certain, she and Urso were married by the Reverend Laban Foxe, an Independent minister, and soon after the ceremony—if ceremony it can be called—Urso and his bride, with the old dame, quitted Worcester."

Careless had heard enough, and strode away to hide his vexation.