Mistress Spitfire: A Plain Account of Certain Episodes in the History of Richard Coope, Gent., and of His Cousin, Mistress Alison French, at the Time of the Revolution, 1642-1644
History
Mistress Spitfire: A Plain Account of Certain Episodes in the History of Richard Coope, Gent., and of His Cousin, Mistress Alison French, at the Time of the Revolution, 1642-1644
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
“Not while I am master,” says I, coolly. “And as I have but a
short ten minutes wherein to be master I shall exact the strictest
obedience. Dare but to question one of my orders, madam, and I
shall have you locked in your chamber.” And with that I gave her a
look that was meant to be as hard as one of her own, and marched
forward to meet old Gregory, who was coming in with the others.
But ere I could speak to him in runs one of the lads to say that
four men on horseback were asking admission at the courtyard door.
“They’re here!” says John Stirk. And so there I was caged, with
Cromwell’s despatch in my doublet that should by that time have
been delivered to Fairfax. “Present needs first!” says I, and I
settled down to the business of the moment.
Chapter IV
Of Various Events of Importance which took place during one night,
and caused us considerable Uneasiness and other Emotions.
I.
As they began to knock at the door, at first with a certain
gentleness, but afterwards in as peremptory a manner as if the
king himself had waited without, I turned to my cousin again, and
again favoured her with a hard look. She stared at me with a rising
indignation in her eyes, but I saw a questioning look in them that
nerved me to preserve my stern attitude.
“Mistress,” says I, “the enemy is at our gate, and we must perforce
parley with him. There is no one amongst us better fitted to that
task than yourself. And so, mistress,” I says, still keeping my
eyes on hers, “I must ask you to take your orders from me after
this fashion. First----”
But here she broke in upon me, standing very straight, and holding
her head very high, and looking me up and down as if I had been
some country lout that had dared to address her.
“Master Richard Coope,” says she, “I take no man’s orders, and
yours least of all. Your orders!” she says, with fine scorn.
“_Your_ orders!”
“Nay, mistress,” says I, “we do but waste time. Do not let us waste
more in explanations. You will not only take my orders, but what is
more, you will do them. What! will you oppose your girlish whims
and fancies to Sir Nicholas’s good estate?”
“Insolent!” says she, her pretty face all aflame. “_You_ to
speak--I must be dreaming or going mad,” she says, suddenly.
“Why,” says I, “’tis a pity indeed if you are, cousin, for we have
no time to listen to dreams or to deal with mad folk, nor with
mutineers either,” says I, putting on my sternest air again, “so
come, mistress, let us to business----”
“Prithee, madam,” says old Barbara, “do what Master Richard asks of
you, else we shall all be murdered in cold blood. Thank the Lord,
say I, that Master Richard should happen in on the nick o’ time,”
she says, “a man is a rare comfortable thing to have in a house at
times like these.”
But Mistress Alison gives her a cold stare and looks at me. “What
is it that you wish, sir?” she says. “Since I am in your power----”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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