The Yeoman Adventurer
ale-house. On an ordinary night there would be no one about, even if it
mattered if there were, but to-night, when it does matter, there are
thousands of soldiers on the march, and there is some risk of our being
observed."
In another five minutes or so we heard faint snatches of song and bursts
of applause, and shouting and laughing. The "Why Not" was now about a
hundred yards ahead on our left. On the right the bank was lined with
willows which, not having been pollarded for many years, stretched their
long, thin branches well over the river. I ran the boat as far under them
as I could. Joe pulled with short, soft strokes, and we crept slowly
along. For a minute the lighted windows were obscured by the outhouses,
and just as I caught sight of them again, a door was flung open, and the
jumble of noises swelled into a roar of jeering laughter. A young woman
flew out, heedlessly and noisily as a flustered hen, and a burly soldier
lurched after her down the yard. At a whisper, Joe shipped his oars, and I
ran the boat right into the bank. I grabbed in the dark for a hold-to, and
luckily seized the roots of a willow. At his end Joe did the same. We
hardly dared to breathe as we watched the doings on the other bank.
Lust, of blood or worse, and the fear of it, were there. The lighted
windows and the open door made every movement of the man and the girl
clearly visible. No one followed them. It was so ordinary an event to the
company, perhaps that it was not worth while leaving mirth and beer to see
the issue. But all serious elements in their affair changed abruptly and
to our instant jeopardy. On the very edge of the water the girl, knowing
her whereabouts to an inch, turned cleverly. The man, a stranger
obviously, ran on and pitched clean and far into the river, while she,
laughing and triumphant, scuttled back to the house. Her tale brought out
at once a spurt of men, yelling with joy, to watch the fun. Some of them
had snatched up lanterns and lighted candles, and they were followed later
by a fresh, older, shrieking woman who carried a huge, burning brand
plucked from the hearth.
Happily for us the river was shallow, for a couple of strokes would have
brought the man clean into us. The shock of the icy water sobered him. He
splashed and spluttered to his feet, climbed up the bank like a giant
water-rat, and would have slunk towards the house; but the rabble were on
him before he had taken a dozen paces, and tormented him till he roared
like a wounded bull. The woman with the brand cried out on him with vile
words that made my face burn in the dark, and belaboured him about the
head with her blazing cudgel. At every blow a shower of sparks flew out
that drove his rollicking mates into a ring around them at a safe distance
away. The man must have been set afire had he not been soused in the river
beforehand. None of his fellows tried to help him, just as before none had
tried to hinder him. It was his look out either way, and they enjoyed his
discomfiture with all the gusto of children. At last the breathless woman
and the cowed man came to a parley, the result of which was that, with a
whoop of "pots round," they all crowded back into the ale-house, and we
were once more alone on the river.
"The ordeal by water and by fire," I said. "Push out, Joe."
"Gom! Owd Bess give 'im sock," he replied, and levered the nose of the
boat into midstream again.
Although there was no real need for it, the escape kept us all quiet. I
persuaded Mistress Waynflete to lie down, so as to avoid the biting wind
that was sweeping across the river, and Joe and I by turns made such
progress that in less than an hour we drew up to the town meadow.
The greatest caution was now necessary, since we saw that the bridge
leading into the town was thronged with people, many carrying lanterns or
torches. The town wall ran parallel to the river, on our right, with a
narrow fringe of meadow between them. Here the wall was for the most part
tumbled into ruins, and in the gaps stood little cottages, built in part
of the stones that had once formed the wall. In one of these lived little
old Marry-me-quick, Mistress Martha Tonks, to give her her christening
name, and we ran up to the bank level with her place without being
observed from the bridge, although it was only a few boat-lengths distant.
I stepped cautiously out and tiptoed to her back window. There the
ancient maiden was, busily engaged in the manufacture of her staple, no
doubt in anticipation of a greater demand for it in these stirring days,
when much extra money would be passing around in the town, and many
pennies thereof would dribble into the pockets of the youngsters. I lifted
the latch and stepped in. She squeaked with affright till she saw who it
was, and then turned her note into a gurgle of astonishment.
"Are you alone?" I asked. She nodded. "Just a minute then, and I'll be
back again, with a visitor. Keep quiet!"
I returned to the boat, and as I was obliged to move as stealthily as a
cat, I could not help, as I approached, hearing Joe say emphatically, "I
wunna." I cursed him silent, without troubling to ask what he was
objecting to, and handed Mistress Waynflete out.
"Now, Joe," I whispered, "off you go back! The moon will be up in a few
minutes, and you ought to do it in an hour. You can sit in the kitchen all
to-morrow to make up for this."
"Jin said 'er'd sit up for me," he said, and I was glad he had such a
good motive to keep him up to his hard task.
"Good-bye, Joe," said Mistress Waynflete, shaking the good fellow warmly
by the hand. "Give my loving remembrances to your mistresses and to Jane.
Say how grateful I am."
"Good-bye, my lady," he said simply, "and God bless you." So that only I
could hear him, he added, "Tak' good keer on 'er, Master Noll. Jin's awful
sot on 'er, and wunna luk at me if any 'arm 'appens 'er."
I gripped his hard hand, gave him my parting message home, and then
crouched and pushed the boat into and down the stream. As I lifted my hand
from her and she glided into the blackness, I felt in my heart that the
last link with the old life was broken. Then, as I rose to my feet, a hand
was placed on my arm, and I tingled in every fibre at this sweet link with
the new life.
CHAPTER V
THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE
I had found Mistress Tonks in her little back room, where she
manufactured marry-me-quick by day and slept by night. Her cottage
contained only one other room, serving as shop and living room, and
fronting on a narrow lane which turned abruptly from the main street at
the bridge-end to follow the curve of the walls. By the time I returned
with Mistress Waynflete she had shuttered the window of the shop, snuffed
the candles, and stirred the fire into a blaze.
Marry-me-quick was an ancient, wizened, little woman, so small that she
hardly escaped being a dwarf, humpbacked, and inexpressibly ugly. In times
not so long gone by she would assuredly have burned as a witch, and many
supposed her to be in league with the evil one. But in actual fact she was
a cheery, voluble, and warm-hearted little body, and one on whom I could
rely to serve us in this pinch.
"Mistress Tonks," I said, "I want you to shelter this lady for the night."
"To be sure," chirped the little woman. "Luckily I've kept the sojers
off. Every house in the town is full of 'em, and the Mayor's at his wits'
end to know how to stuff 'em all in. I should think a score of 'em have
come here, in ones, and twos, and threes; and when I stood bold up to them
and said, 'Do you want any marry-me-quick?' they were off like scared
rabbits. A great, sweet lady like you wouldn't think it, of course, but
it's a godsend at times for a lone woman when she's ugly enough to turn
cream sour, and somedeal crooked o' the body into the bargain."
"I shall certainly desire some marry-me-quick," said Mistress Waynflete,
deftly evading the awkward conclusion of this speech, "for Master Wheatman
has described it in terms that make my mouth water. And though you do not
want to billet soldiers, you will, I know, befriend a soldier's daughter."
"I should befriend the devil's dam, asking your ladyship's pardon, if
Master Wheatman brought her here. I'm a little, lone, ugly woman, but
Master Noll always stood by me. The lads, drat 'em, were for ever pinching
Master Dobson's bull's-eyes and gingerbread, and him mayor of the town,
though he's got lots grander than that since, but they never pinched any
marry-me-quick, not in Master Noll's time. But he's gone now, and I'm not
as nimble as I used to be. Jesus help me, how he had used to fight! He
used to put my heart in my mouth, coming in here all blood and muck to
wash himself afore he went home. But take your things off and make
yourself at home."
"I'm afraid you'll hear a too full and too true account of me, madam,
while I am away," said I. "Soldiers are likely to call, but you can leave
Mistress Tonks to deal with them. Still, please discard your own jacket
and hat, and wear mother's domino. It's homely and country-like, and you
must pull the hood over your head, since, if your hair has been described,
and any soldier who calls has heard of it, he will have to be blind not to
notice it."
"Yes, it's dreadful stuff," she said, with amusing meekness.
"So dreadful, madam," said I soberly, "that all England cannot match it.
Therefore you must hide it, lest it should shock some poor soldier who
comes seeking a billet and finds it."
She took off her hat, preparing to do what I asked, and the wondrous
yellow hair, coils upon coils of it, was revealed. "Jesus help me," said
little Marry-me-quick in a hushed voice, "the back of her head looks like
a harvest moon. If the same God that made her ladyship made me, we shall
begin life in heaven with a row, that's all I've got to say."
I smiled at the quaint conceit of the little woman, which lost its
irreverence towards God in its reverence for His handiwork. "Now mother
Tonks," said I, "I leave this lady in your charge for a time while I go
into the town to see Master Dobson. I may be away some time, and you'll
get us some supper. Anything you have will do."
"Anything I have?" she echoed scornfully. "I've got one of them rabbits
you sent me last market day by that lozzicking Joe Braggs, but he's a good
gorby is Joe"--here her voice softened, and madam smiled agreement--"and
this frost has kept it as sweet as a nut. If you're not too hungry to
wait, I'll make you some rabbit-stew."
"Rabbit-stew? I'll wait for that, and I'm sure Mistress Waynflete will,"
said I.
"I'll live on marry-me-quick in the meantime," she replied, laughing.
"I leave you then in good hands, and hope to come back with cheerful
news," I said, bowing low, and stepped forth on my errand.
I turned to the left and fifty paces brought me into the main street. A
gun and a train of wagons were rumbling over the bridge, convoyed by a
handful of dragoons and a riff-raff of noisy lads and lasses. Late and
cold as it was, the main street was thronged as on a fair day at noon.
Most of the shops, especially those that dealt in provisions, were open
and full of vociferous customers, while every alehouse was a pandemonium.
The street was choked with townspeople and soldiery; lanterns flickered
and torches flamed; oath and jest, bravado and buffoonery, filled the air.
I pushed my way to the market-place. Here about a dozen guns were parked,
and at least a hundred horses tethered. At each corner a huge fire cracked
and roared. The town hall was a blaze of light, and I heard from passersby
that the mayor and council had been in session since noon. The current
rumour was that the Stuart, with fifty thousand Highlanders, savages who
disembowelled women for sport and roasted children for food, had sacked