Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"Nay, nay, by God! he is not nor ever will be again. He hath so dealt
with me and my honour, even though I stand within mine own threshold
'twould be heinous to allow him to leave it with life in his accursed
body. I tell thee now, there is nothing of hell or heaven that can
take thee from me. Dost hear--dost hear, maid?" He again wiped his
brow and looked about him. "It does somewhat appear as if my brain
were turning!--Janet--bring thy maid here to me! Janet made a step
forward, but was checked by Katherine's warning look.
"Mistress Penwick, remove thyself from the table; Tompkins, set it,
set it, set it quickly I say!" Tompkins put the basket upon the table
and turned to a linen closet and brought therefrom a cloth and made
as if to spread it upon a small table near him. His Lordship saw his
move, and broke forth in angry tones,--"The table of honour, there,
there Tompkins!" As he shook his fingers toward it, his hand fell back
upon the hilt of his sword.
"Nay, I forbid him to do it," said Katherine.
"By all the foul fiends! raise the leaves or I smite thee down," said
Lord Cedric to the frightened Tompkins. And he drew and leaned forward
his body well nigh to the floor. His eyes were wild and bloodshot. As
Tompkins raised the leaves Mistress Penwick threw herself between his
Lordship and the table. With one bound Cedric swayed aside and like
one frenzied, gazed beneath the table, and there looked out to him the
white face of Christopher.
His Lordship broke forth into such a wild laugh, even the affrighted
and condemned servant crept from his hiding and looked on amazed.
Finally, when his laughing had well-nigh ceased, his Lordship drew
from his belt the dagger and threw it across the room at Hiary,
saying,--"There; stick him as thou wouldst a wild boar--no probing,
mind; but death!"
"Nay, nay, my lord! my lord!" broke from Mistress Pen wick, and Janet
ran to her crying,--"My lord, not so harsh a deed before my lady's
eyes!"
"Ah! ah! and she hath carved my heart to pieces! Commit thy office,
Hiary!" The lithe lackey sprang upon Christopher and drove the knife,
it appeared, to the hilt, and with a gurgling cry the lad fell.
Mistress Penwick looked on wild-eyed with terror. His Lordship came
near and leant close to her ear and said,--
"Thou hast turned thy charms to ill account, thou stirrest me to evil
deeds. Didst thy love help thee to this _rendezvous_, and was he
satisfied to leave thee when he heard my sword flap upon the chair
without to fight thy battles alone, or did he sate his desire on thy
innocent face and fled aforetime to prepare for a greater sating? Now
by God, none shall wrest thee from me again. Arouse the chaplain!
Come, Mistress, thou shalt have a husband who loves thee within the
hour, and the morrow's sun will look in on a sweet young wife with a
light heart."
He laid hold on her without violence, she drew from him even more
frightened than heretofore.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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