Chapter 15 of 23 · 1353 words · ~7 min read

CHAPTER XV

DICK MEETS DEATH

The first thing Dick saw, when the sun rose, was the new suit of rose-coloured silk which her Ladyship had given him to wear on her birthday. Old Philip had laid it out on the oak chest when it came from Arncastor the afternoon before. This was her birthday, to which they had so looked forward. He sat up in the bed and looked at the sun.

"I'm going to die," he said aloud.

It was quite unbelievable. There was the world outside, and here was his room and the birthday suit, and himself well and strong, and as much in need of breakfast as usual. He had not meant to go to sleep last night, but without undressing had lain down to think. Sleep had come, however, and here was the sun, and at sunrise they had said he should die. He started up. In a mirror opposite he saw a tumbled suit, an untidy head, and a pair of large frightened eyes.

"This won't do," he thought miserably. "I look like a traitor. I die game, like the men in the tale-books."

He stripped, plunged into a basin of cold water, got out a clean shirt, paused; cried a little, and dried the tears with his wrist-bands; then drew on the new silken hose, and put on the shoes with rosettes. Then came the rose-coloured suit, and with trembling hands he fastened the collar of rich lace her Ladyship had given him, and tied the embroidered sash.

"'Tis her birthday," he thought. "God bless her and give her many, many happy years, dear Cousin Dorothy! I wish I'd died at the inn before I knew what happiness felt like."

He buried his face in the pillows and cried bitterly. But he heard steps outside, and pulled himself up. The corporal came in.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I haven't said my prayers yet," said Dick.

"Say them then, in good season."

Dick said the Lord's Prayer, and then, putting on his hat, said: "I'm ready."

"I'm not afraid to die," he observed as they went downstairs, "but I'm sorry past bearing to leave Cousin Dorothy."

The corporal said: "Umph!"

In the hall Captain Strong bade them halt. The door was open, and Dick saw two troopers under a tree on the grass, and hanging from a branch of the tree was a rope. He started. He had thought they would shoot him at least. A rope! A halter! Die on a gallows! He flushed. And for what? A lie would have saved him, and his death was of no importance. He was not saving anyone, or serving anyone, by his death.

"God knows, Dick," Giles had said at Dent, "you may die disgraced on a gallows, for that. But, my dear fellow, it's the duty that counts."

Dick bit his lip. If Giles were only here!

Just then, between Dick and the tree, came the black form of Lorry, with a tense, disapproving lift of the tail. He saw Dick waiting for a game, he supposed, gave a yelp of greeting, and came bounding up the path and into the hall. Dick caught him in his arms. Then, turning to the corporal savagely, he said: "Why don't you get on, you cowards? I can't stand much more."

The parlour door opened as he spoke, and the Lady Dorothy came out, followed by John Dent. She was very pale, but quite composed, and she wore the same dress as upon the last evening, and the flowers in her hair, Dick noticed vaguely, were dead. She came straight up to him and kissed him.

"You are free, Richard," said John Dent. "To horse, every man!" He was pale too, and curiously subdued in his manner. "She pleaded for you, Richard," he said. "Farewell, madam!"

Her Ladyship turned and swept him a curtsy, but she neither spoke nor lifted her eyes to him. He bowed. Then she led Dick away to her room.

"Oh, Cousin!" he cried. "Dear Cousin! is it true? Have they gone? Am I safe?"

"All true, Dick. Quite safe," she whispered.

He kissed her, kneeling by her, tried to thank her, and cried from excitement and relief.

"And 'tis still your birthday, dear! It seems weeks since sunrise. But, after all, we are going to have a merry day!"

She caressed him.

"We may, Cousin Dorothy, after all," he ran on. "Thanks to you, dearest, best of cousins! I'll never call John Dent my cousin--never any more! But you are weary. You haven't slept. Not been to bed all night? And I--I slept like a log. We will not ride out, then. We'll bide at home. Ods me! I'm hungry--something dreadful!"

"Go and breakfast, Dick," she said, "and I'll come anon."

"Shall I send Bridget with the chocolate and come and have it with you?"

"Nay," she answered. "You will want much more than she can carry. I'll call her by and by. You run, quick, Dick. Here comes Lorry, scratching. Be off the two of you!"

She fairly turned them out of her room and shut the door.

Bridget came to Dick later, and said her ladyship was resting, and would he hold her excused till the evening banquet, when she would come down right gaily.

Dick cheerfully agreed, for had she not been up all night on his behalf? He sent her his love, by Bridget, and bade her say he was busy composing an oration for the evening feast. Then he went to enquire of the maids what depredations the Puritans had made; but finding they had confined themselves to beef and beer, he went off with Lorry to visit the gardens and the stables.

"I've come back to life, Lorry," he told his friend. "Hours since I should have been cold and dead, sir, but for her. Eh, Lorry, dear, if she should some day need helping, I'd face anything for her!"

The rope was gone from the tree on the lawn, but Dick ran past it with a shudder. It was good to be alive, and how near he had been to death!

That evening the table was spread in the dining-room, with more candles to light it than usual. There were great bowls of roses, and strawberries in silver dishes, with creams and jellies enough for three times the number of guests. Lady Dorothy Byng wore her white satin and pearls, and a cluster of damask roses in her hair. She was more gay and more beautiful, Dick thought, than he had ever seen her before. At the end of the feast Dick stood up and cried lustily: "His Majesty the King! God bless him!"

Her Ladyship rose and curtsied, and they drank the health together. Her Ladyship leaned back in her chair, but Dick remained standing, and Philip refilled the glass. He turned the glass in his fingers.

"I'd made a lovely speech, Cousin," he said, and the lights seemed curiously dim, "but I--I can't remember a word. I'd die for you, though, and I love you, and I wish you very many happy years and a long--"

"Not that, Dick," she said, lifting her hand. "I don't think I'll care for a long life. But I like the rest very much, Dick. Thank you. Philip, you may go."

Dick's eyes saw things more plainly now. He looked at her steadily.

"What have I said to make you weep?" he asked.

"Nothing. Come here, dear. There! I think I'm tired again, Dickie."

Dick kissed her.

"You go and rest, Cousin," he said cheerfully. "All these candles make one's head ache this hot night."

"Yes, Dick, but I want you first to add one clause to your dear little speech."

"What?" he said.

"I want you to say, instead of dying, that you'll live with me always. That you'll never leave me for a day."

"Add that!" he cried. "Did I need to? You know I never will."

"Say it, though, Dickie. 'Whatever happens' say."

Dick said it and drank the toast, and his cousin left him with a good-night kiss.