Chapter 7 of 23 · 2795 words · ~14 min read

CHAPTER VII

GILES'S MASTER

Giles, left behind, pictured many adventures that might have befallen Dick in his two hours' walk in the dark, but he did not foresee--perhaps because he did not know the field-path to Lumley--what really befel. Clouds coming up about two o'clock hid the moon. In the darkness Dick missed the bridge that crossed the beck about a mile from the castle, and, having wandered some distance out of his way, found himself suddenly overshoes in a bog. He floundered out again and left a shoe behind--floundered in again to seek it--groped about, feeling the oozing mud over and round, but failed to discover it--finally, after much squelching and sucking of the mud, determined to leave it altogether. To walk in one shoe is not easy, to hop is most fatiguing. Dick hurled the left shoe into the swamp to keep the right one company, and set off to seek higher ground, his ardour undamped--that is, in comparison with his person. About an hour later it began to rain, first in light showers, then faster. Dick, coming into violent collision with a stone wall, crept under the lee of it to wait till the rain ceased, for in the darkness he was utterly lost. When the dawn began to grow gray he rose and looked about him. Just before him was a roofless barn, and beyond that the beck that he ought to have crossed higher up. Reflecting that he could not possibly be any wetter, Dick took off his stockings and waded in. The September morning was raw, and the water was cold. It was deep, too, and there were slippery stones at the bottom. Just as he sprang for the bank his foot slipped, and he fell back with a splash. Away floated his stockings unheeded, and when he emerged, wet, muddy, drabbled, bare-legged, scratched and bruised, he looked, in fact, an excellent companion for Giles in his rags.

The King had his quarters in the manor-house at Lumley, and the Earl of Newcastle was in command of his army. Prince Rupert was there too, and very anxious to occupy the earl's place.

A number of gentlemen were sitting at breakfast in their quarters--a small farm close to the manor--when a tall cavalry-officer came swaggering in, and, saluting, said with a laugh:

"More news of Dent, so please you. Just being reported to my Lord of Newcastle, but I have the messenger here."

"Bring him in," said the gentleman at the head of the table.

The officer retired, and came back in a moment with a boy, bare-legged, and dirty, and torn.

"Ho!" said the gentleman. "Who are you, my hedge-sparrow?"

"Sir Richard Chester of Dent," answered Dick, looking round the room, and then long and earnestly at his questioner. He thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful, or so handsomely dressed. The gentleman wore a coat of tawny velvet with open sleeves, showing a white cambric shirt with very fine lace at the wrists. Over this he had a sleeveless buff leather coat. Round his throat was a gorgelet of steel, over which fell a lace collar, and a richly-embroidered baldric held his sword in a gold-tipped scabbard. He had gold spurs fastened to his long wrinkled riding-boots. Such men and such clothes had never been to Dent in Dick's lifetime. He might well regard them with awe.

"Sir Richard Chester!" said the gentleman, flicking a crumb from his sleeve with a lace handkerchief, and returning Dick's stare with good-humoured carelessness. "There seem to be a good many baronets in that family, gentlemen," and he smiled round the table. His friends laughed softly.

"Three within a month!" said one. "Four, for 'tis barely a month since the first Sir Reginald died."

"Four," said another gentleman. "Sir Reginald the First, Sir Reginald the Second, Sir John, and--"

"Sir Richard," said the first gentleman, and he pointed at Dick with a beautiful white hand covered with jewels.

"I don't understand," said Dick, coming nearer, eagerly.

"Farther off," said the gentleman, pushing back his chair, but still good-humouredly, "if you will be so good! Thank you. I perceive you have been in a quagmire."

Dick had begun to feel hot and uncomfortable. The gentlemen seemed so indifferent to any news he might have, and they spoke so slowly, and moved so negligently, that his preconceived ideas of his own importance, and of a commanding officer's desire for information, deserted him. His nervousness made him aggressive. That indefinable something, that was not insolence, and yet was supreme indifference to his feelings, vexed him bitterly, as Giles the stableman's manners had vexed him when, the first day of the siege, he refused to let down the bridge. He clenched his hands, and, scowling, spoke up quickly.

"I am Sir Richard Chester, and I have held Dent Castle for nearly a week, I may tell you. And I am come now to ask the King's will--whether we hold it longer or whether we give it up, or how we shall act."

"'Tis gracious of your honour to consult him," said the other gently.

"You will observe, sir, that the young gentleman is so used to negotiating with sovereigns as a brother-potentate that he drops of nature into the regal 'we'," said another gentleman in an elaborately-explaining tone from the far end of the table.

Dick turned scowling to him, tossed back his clinging curls, and simply glared at him. The young gentleman covered his eyes, and murmured: "I am scorched," almost inaudibly.

Dick was trembling with rage, and would have flown violently at him, but for the restraining hand of the officer behind him.

"Osborne, where did you come across this young baronet?" enquired the first speaker.

"In the ante-room of the Lord Newcastle's chamber, sir."

"You lie! 'Twas the pig-sty!" cried Dick.

The gentlemen laughed all at once, and the one at the head of the table the loudest, at this.

"Nathless the earl's ante-chamber, my child," continued the officer. "He had been sent on from a picquet beyond the river, having given the name of Sir Richard Chester, and demanding the King or the general commanding."

"I am Sir Richard Chester," said Dick again.

"But," said the gentleman, "you were drowned, you know, a week since, in the Lum."

"I was not," said Dick stoutly.

"Yes, truly. Gregory Balston yonder attended your funeral. Did you not, Gregory?"

"Upon my word I did, sir," said a young gentleman, setting down a glass and nodding gravely "I was sharing tents with Dent--Captain Dent--Captain Sir John Dent."

"One of the baronets of the family," murmured another.

"Precisely," said Balston, "having succeeded the interesting young gentleman who fell into the Lum. Captain Dent was on duty, so he sent his secretary, one Master Purvis, to see the body, and he asked me, as a friend, to attend upon his part."

"Thank you," said the gentleman in tawny. "We quite well remember, for Sir John claimed the barony the next evening, and promised to raise a troop for the King."

Dick looked on helplessly, and could only say: "I never fell in the Lum."

"You fell into the quagmire, you know," said the gentleman.

"And you fell into the pig-sty, you know," said the officer.

"Has Newcastle seen him?" asked the gentleman.

"No, sir. He was engaged."

Just then another officer entered to say his lordship had asked for the messenger from Dent.

"Come," said the gentleman, "we've not had a breath of Dent news yet, sir. Stay, sir, a moment. Now, my boy, say what you want to say."

But Dick had gathered by now that this was not the general commanding, and, remembering Giles's advice to give his news to no one else--though rather late in the day,--he was dumb.

"Speak," said the gentleman.

"I will not," Dick retorted. "You think I tell lies; and you tell them about my being dead--that's a lie; and John Dent's not a baronet--that's another!"

The other stood up. "Dead or alive, your manners are quite unbearable. Take him away, sirs, and I'll follow."

Osborne handed him over to the new-comer, and Dick was marched off down a passage to the Earl of Newcastle's quarters, the gentleman in tawny clanking behind him.

Lord Newcastle was writing at a table as they entered his room, and he rose and bowed.

"If you will have the goodness to bear with my company, my lord," said the gentleman, "I should be glad to hear news of Dent."

The earl handed him a chair. "Now, boy," he said, turning to Dick with some sternness, "what news of Dent?"

"I am Sir Richard Chester," Dick began.

The earl smiled slightly, and the other gentleman said: "If we might suggest passing over styles and titles, and keeping strictly to business, my lord--?"

"Go on," said the earl quietly. "Have you come from Dent?"

"Yes," said Dick sullenly.

"Who is commanding there?"

"I am," said Dick.

The earl frowned. "Tell the truth, sir," he said.

"I am," Dick persisted. "We have held it for a week. Yesterday we learned artillery was coming, and Giles wished--"

"Who is Giles?" enquired the earl.

"Giles is--is--the stableman." Dick flushed and stammered.

The two gentlemen laughed.

"Here is a story of a cock and a bull," the one in tawny said. "Truly--behold the cock--of a fine hackle!"

Dick bit his lip. He was very tired. He thought all these people very unreasonable; he was being disbelieved and ill-treated. He was cold and hungry, and he hated this gentleman. Therefore, in spite of his manhood, he wanted to cry.

"Proceed," said the earl patiently. "What did Giles wish?"

"Giles wished to know," Dick faltered, "if the King--"

"Would give him a peerage," began the bantering gentleman.

The earl suddenly turned, as his servant announced someone to him in a low voice. "Oh, just remove this boy to your room, Dennison!" he said hastily. "See he breakfasts. I shall want him again."

"Might I suggest a bath also," murmured the gentleman.

Taking Dick by the hand, the servant led him off to a small cupboard, which was his room at the farm. Here Dick found courage, after breakfasting, to ask if he might have a wash; and, in washing, came across the silk cord attached to Giles's golden token.

"I am a little fool! I quite forgot it. Who knows but one of these gentlemen might have been Giles's master. He would have befriended me."

"Eh?" said the man in whose care he was. "What is that about?"

"'Tis Giles's token," Dick answered vaguely. "I'll try it when they send for me again."

Just then the earl's voice was heard calling loudly on Dennison, who came running back in a moment for Dick.

When they came into the room, Dick found it crowded with people. The Earl of Newcastle was speaking to a gentleman in black velvet, who was leaning on a gold-headed cane. Dick caught something about Dent.

"The first news was from Captain Dent, to say he had quitted the castle before the orders reached it. The second was from his secretary, to say his cousin, young Sir Richard Chester, had been drowned whilst fleeing from the enemy, and, as the next baronet, he promised to raise a troop."

"Yes, yes," said the gentleman.

"Then," continued the earl, "there came a man from Dent village, saying the Chesters' flag was floating again. Then he came and reported the castle besieged by the enemy, the flag still up, and a garrison making sorties and capturing the enemy by the dozen. He said Sir Reginald Chester was in command."

"He being dead," put in Dick's first questioner. "I believe they are all dead in that family; but, being loyal, have come back to help us. This pygmy says he is Sir Richard."

Every eye was turned on Dick.

"Ay, sir; to-day comes this boy," said my Lord Newcastle, "saying the garrison is composed of himself and a stableman, and that he has come through the enemy's lines for assistance."

"And through a variety of other things also, as we perceive," said Dick's tormentor, pointing to his mud-stained clothes.

The gentleman in black tapped Dick on the shoulder with his cane, saying:

"What is your name, friend?"

"Dick Chester," answered the boy, and he held up a bright object dangling from a silk string.

"Ha! and what have we there?" asked the gentleman with a slight smile.

"It's Giles's. He gave it to me, and said the man who had the other half was his master, and would believe all I said."

One of them took the token, and Dick watched anxiously as it passed from hand to hand. His heart sank as one after another handed it on without owning to it. At last it came to the gentleman whom he hated, who shook his head mockingly, and was about to toss it back to Dick when the gentleman in black took it from him.

"By your leave, Nephew," he said.

Seating himself in the earl's chair, he laid the token on his knee, and, having felt in his pockets, presently laid another bright half beside it. They fitted. He looked up with a whimsical smile. "Evidently," he said, "I am the man."

Dick came forward. "You are Giles's master, then," he said.

"And this belonged to Giles the stableman?"

Dick nodded. "Yes, and my lieutenant at Dent. He should have been captain, but refused it."

"In favour of whom?"

"Me," said Dick, gaining confidence. "I claimed it because it was my castle, but I wanted him to have it very soon, for he was a better man than I."

"A better man never stepped," said the other, repressing a laugh. "But if he had a better, 'twould be you. Now, come--Dick, is it?--come, Dick, then, let us have the news of Dent from beginning to end."

He drew the boy to his side, and, whilst the rest of the company stood wondering by, Dick gave the history of the siege, from the moment when he swam the moat to get in, to the moment when he swam the moat to get out. He told all about Giles, who had been found starving by the road-side, of his wonderful wisdom, and of the treachery of John Dent.

"Is it to be believed?" queried the Earl of Newcastle.

"Every word, my lord," said the gentleman in black; "I vouch for every word that comes from Giles the stableman." His lips twitched with amusement, and, beckoning the earl to come nearer, he whispered in his ear. The earl started and looked round at Dick.

"There isn't a doubt of it," said the gentleman in black, rising.

"The Chesters were all madmen," said the earl.

"A very good kind of madness, however," said the other, patting Dick's shoulder. "Now, my lord, will you be so good as to relieve Dent, sending a special messenger from us to the officer commanding, to come as he is, and on peril of our displeasure to alter a rag of his apparel."

"Ah, he said it would make you laugh!" Dick observed.

The gentleman laughed heartily. "So it does," he said gaily. "So he is Giles, is he? A stable-man, eh?"

"Yes, sir," said Dick,

"So be it, then," said Giles's master. "And now, will you stay with my Lord Newcastle here till Giles comes?"

"May I not ride with the troops to bring him in?" Dick requested.

He did not understand the ways of these gentlemen, and was very much afraid of being left alone with any one of them.

"By no means," said the gentleman in tawny, shaking his head. "If we find no Giles at Dent, if we find you've been romancing, the Provost-Marshal will want you, youngster. The whipping-post"--he rolled his eyes,--"the stocks, then chased out of the camp."

"Nephew," said the gentleman in black, "I beg you will desist. Sir Richard Chester stands in no danger of such things."

Lord Newcastle came up to Dick with a friendly smile.

"Now, sir, will you go with me?"

Dick hung back, and the gentleman in tawny laughed.

"He mislikes you, my lord. Hey! he shall choose amongst us. Dick, my gallant, wilt come with me?"

"Not I, sir," said Dick promptly, stepping to the side of Giles's master. "I will go with you," he said, taking his hand.

Half the people in the room sprang forward as if to drag him back, but the gentleman seemed more pleased than otherwise. He waved back the one in tawny.

"Eh, Nephew?" he said; "you cannot say his choice is a bad one. Do not follow me, I thank you."

And holding Dick's hand, he walked slowly out of the room.