The Tavern Knight Read online

  CHAPTER XII. THE HOUSE THAT WAS ROLAND MARLEIGH'S

  It was high noon next day, and Gregory Ashburn was taking the air uponthe noble terrace of Castle Marleigh, when the beat of hoofs, rapidlyapproaching up the avenue, arrested his attention. He stopped in hiswalk, and, turning, sought to discover who came. His first thought wasof his brother; his second, of Kenneth. Through the half-denuded treeshe made out two mounted figures, riding side by side; and from the factof there being two, he adduced that this could not be Joseph returning.

  Even as he waited he was joined by Cynthia, who took her stand besidehim, and voiced the inquiry that was in his mind. But her father couldno more than answer that he hoped it might be Kenneth.

  Then the horsemen passed from behind the screen of trees and came intothe clearing before the terrace, and unto the waiting glances of Ashburnand his daughter was revealed a curiously bedraggled and ill-assortedpair. The one riding slightly in advance looked like a Puritan of themeaner sort, in his battered steeple-hat and cloak of rusty black. Theother was closely wrapped in a red mantle, uptilted behind by a sword ofprodigious length, and for all that his broad, grey hat was unadornedby any feather, it was set at a rakish, ruffling, damn-me angle thatpronounced him no likely comrade for the piously clad youth beside him.

  But beneath that brave red cloak--alack!--as was presently seen whenthey dismounted, that gentleman was in a sorry plight. He wore a leatherjerkin, so cut and soiled that any groom might have disdained it; a pairof green breeches, frayed to their utmost; and coarse boots of untannedleather, adorned by rusty spurs.

  On the terrace Gregory paused a moment to call his groom to attendthe new-comers, then he passed down the steps to greet Kenneth withboisterous effusion. Behind him, slow and stately as a woman of twiceher years, came Cynthia. Calm was her greeting of her lover, containedin courteous expressions of pleasure at beholding him safe, andsuffering him to kiss her hand.

  In the background, his sable locks uncovered out of deference to thelady, stood Sir Crispin, his face pale and haggard, his lips parted, andhis grey eyes burning as they fell again, after the lapse of years, uponthe stones of this his home--the castle to which he was now come, hat inhand, to beg for shelter.

  Gregory was speaking, his hands resting upon Kenneth's shoulder.

  "We have been much exercised concerning you, lad," he was saying. "Wealmost feared the worst, and yesterday Joseph left us to seek news ofyou at Cromwell's hands. Where have you tarried?"

  "Anon, sir; you shall learn anon. The story is a long one."

  "True; you will be tired, and perchance you would first rest a while.Cynthia will see to it. But what scarecrow have you there? Whattatterdemalion is this?" he cried, pointing to Galliard. He had imaginedhim a servant, but the dull flush that overspread Sir Crispin's facetold him of his error.

  "I would have you know, sir," Crispin began, with some heat, whenKenneth interrupted him.

  "Tis to this gentleman, sir, that I owe my presence here. He was myfellow-prisoner, and but for his quick wit and stout arm I should bestiff by now. Anon, sir, you shall hear the story of it, and I dareswear it will divert you. This gentleman is Sir Crispin Galliard, latelya captain of horse with whom I served in Middleton's Brigade."

  Crispin bowed low, conscious of the keen scrutiny in which Gregory'seyes were bent upon him. In his heart there arose a fear that, haplyafter all, the years that were sped had not wrought sufficient change inhim.

  "Sir Crispin Galliard," Ashburn was saying, after the manner of one whois searching his memory. "Galliard, Galliard--not he whom they called'Rakehelly Galliard,' and who gave us such trouble in the late King'stime?"

  Crispin breathed once more. Ashburn's scrutiny was explained.

  "The same, sir," he answered, with a smile and a fresh bow. "Yourservant, sir; and yours, madam."

  Cynthia looked with interest at the lank, soldierly figure. She, too,had heard--as who had not?--wild stories of this man's achievements. Butof no feat of his had she been told that could rival that of his escapefrom Worcester; and when, that same evening, Kenneth related it, as theysupped, her low-lidded eyes grew very wide, and as they fell on Crispin,admiration had taken now the place of interest.

  Romance swayed as great a portion of her heart as it does of mostwomen's. She loved the poets and their songs of great deeds; and herewas one who, in the light of that which they related of him, was like anincarnation of some hero out of a romancer's ballad.

  Kenneth she never yet had held in over high esteem; but of a sudden, inthe presence of this harsh-featured dog of war, this grim, fierce-eyedruffler, he seemed to fade, despite his comeliness of face and form,into a poor and puny insignificance. And when, presently, he unwiselyrelated how, when in the boat he had fainted, the maiden laughedoutright for very scorn.

  At this plain expression of contempt, her father shot her a quick,uneasy glance. Kenneth stopped short, bringing his narrative abruptly toa close. Reproachfully he looked at her, turning first red, then white,as anger chased annoyance through his soul. Galliard looked on withquiet relish; her laugh had contained that which for days he had carriedin his heart. He drained his bumper slowly, and made no attempt torelieve the awkward silence that sat upon the company.

  Truth to tell, there was emotion enough in the soul of him who was wontto be the life of every board he sat at to hold him silent and evenmoody.

  Here, after eighteen years, was he again in his ancestral home ofMarleigh. But how was he returned? As one who came under a feigned name,to seek from usurping hands a shelter 'neath his own roof; a beggar ofthat from others which it should have been his to grant or to denythose others. As an avenger he came. For justice he came, and armed withretribution; the flame of a hate unspeakable burning in his heart, anddemanding the lives--no less--of those that had destroyed him and his.Yet was he forced to sit a mendicant almost at that board whose head washis by every right; forced to sit and curb his mood, giving no outwardsign of the volcano that boiled and raged within his soul as his eyefell upon the florid, smiling face and portly, well-fed frame of GregoryAshburn. For the time was not yet. He must wait; wait until Joseph'sreturn, so that he might spend his vengeance upon both together.

  Patient had he been for eighteen years, confident that ere he died, ajust and merciful God would give him this for which he lived and waited.Yet now that the season was at hand; now upon the very eve of that forwhich he had so long been patient, a frenzy of impatience fretted him.

  He drank deep that night, and through deep drinking his mannerthawed--for in his cups it was not his to be churlish to friend or foe.Anon Cynthia withdrew; next Kenneth, who went in quest of her. StillCrispin sat on, and drank his host's health above his breath, and hisperdition under it, till in the end Gregory, who never yet had foundhis master at the bottle, grew numb and drowsy, and sat blinking at thetapers.

  Until midnight they remained at table, talking of this and that, andeach understanding little of what the other said. As the last hour ofnight boomed out through the great hall, Gregory spoke of bed.

  "Where do I lie to-night?" asked Crispin.

  "In the northern wing," answered Gregory with a hiccough.

  "Nay, sir, I protest," cried Galliard, struggling to his feet, andswaying somewhat as he stood. "I'll sleep in the King's chamber, noneother."

  "The King's chamber?" echoed Gregory, and his face showed the confusedstruggles of his brain. "What know you of the King's chamber?"

  "That it faces the east and the sea, and that it is the chamber I lovebest."

  "What can you know of it since, I take it, you have never seen it!"

  "Have I not?" he began, in a voice that was awful in its threateningcalm. Then, recollecting himself, and shaking some of the drunkennessfrom him: "In the old days, when the Marleighs were masters here," hemumbled, "I was often within these walls. Roland Marleigh was my friend.The King's chamber was ever accorded me, and there, for old time's sake,I'll lay these old bones of mine to-night."

  "You were Rol
and Marleigh's friend?" gasped Gregory. He was very whitenow, and there was a sheen of moisture on his face. The sound of thatname had well-nigh sobered him. It was almost as if the ghost of RolandMarleigh stood before him. His knees were loosened, and he sank backinto the chair from which he had but risen.

  "Aye, I was his friend!" assented Crispin. "Poor Roland! He married yoursister, did he not, and it was thus that, having no issue and the familybeing extinct, Castle Marleigh passed to you?"

  "He married our cousin," Gregory amended. "They were an ill-fatedfamily."

  "Ill-fated, indeed, an all accounts be true," returned Crispin in amaudlin voice. "Poor Roland! Well, for old time's sake, I'll sleep inthe King's chamber, Master Ashburn."

  "You shall sleep where you list, sir," answered Gregory, and they rose.

  "Do you look to honour us long at Castle Marleigh, Sir Crispin?" wasGregory's last question before separating from his guest.

  "Nay, sir, 'tis likely I shall go hence to-morrow," answered Crispin,unmindful of what he said.

  "I trust not," said Gregory, in accents of relief that belied him. "Afriend of Roland Marleigh's must ever be welcome in the house that wasRoland Marleigh's."

  "The house that was Roland Marleigh's," Crispin muttered. "Heigho!Life is precarious as the fall of a die at best an ephemeral business.To-night you say the house that was Roland Marleigh's; presently menwill be saying the house that the Ashburns lived--aye, and died--in.Give you good night, Master Ashburn."

  He staggered off, and stumbled up the broad staircase at the headof which a servant now awaited, taper in hand, to conduct him to thechamber he demanded.

  Gregory followed him with a dull, frightened eye. Galliard's halting,thickly uttered words had sounded like a prophecy in his ears.