Great Britain -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649 -- Fiction
"Oh, certain reasons I may some day make known to you. Like yourself,
Eust, I have some secrets."
Eust thought he could give a good guess at one of them, but mercifully
forbore allusion to it.
"But," he said, with an air of pretended surprise, "you've been just
visiting this terrible king-hater yourself, Rej? If I mistake not, you
came out of the park. You were up to the house, were you not?"
"I was."
"And has it shaken your loyalty, or in any way weakened it?"
"On the contrary, strengthened it. My errand to Ambrose Powell, with
the reception he vouchsafed me--the ill-grained curmudgeon--has had all
that effect."
"Then you've been quarrelling, too! Have you any objection to tell me
what about?"
"Not the slightest. I was the bearer of a letter of Privy Seal to him--
for a loan. Sir John Wintour, as you may be aware, has been appointed
one of the King's Commissioners of Array for West Gloucestershire and
the Forest. You know I'm in his service, which will make the matter
understandable to you."
"And you haven't got the money? I needn't ask; there's the signs of
refusal in your face."
"Got the money! Zounds! no. Instead, the recusant tore the letter into
shreds, and flung them at his feet; defying me, Sir John, King, and all!
Ah! well; that won't be the end of it. I shall be sure of having
occasion to visit Hollymead again, and ere long! Next time the tables
will be turned. But, cousin, after hearing what I've told you, are you
still in the mind to go on to that seditious den? If you take my
advice, you'll turn your back on Hollymead House, and come along with
me. I'm making for Ross."
"To take your advice, Rej, would be to do as rude a thing as a man well
could--ruder than I ever did in my life. Disloyal, too--doubly so; I
should be traitor to gratitude, as to courtesy. Indeed, I've trenched
scandalously on good manners now, by keeping yonder gentleman so long
waiting for me."
He nodded towards Sir Richard, who had halted at some distance up the
avenue.
"Oh, very well," sneeringly rejoined Sir John Wintour's emissary. "Of
course, you can do as you like, Eust. I'm not your master, though
yonder gentleman, as you call him, seems to be. Good-evening!"
And with this curt leave-taking, the sneer still on his face, he dug the
spurs deep into his horse's ribs, and went off at a gallop along the
road for Ross.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
THREE CURIOUS CHARACTERS.
"Yee-up, Jinkum! Yee-up!"
The exclamations were accompanied by the thwack of a stick over the hips
of a donkey half-hidden under a pair of panniers.
"Don't press the poor creetur, Jack. It be a hardish climb up the
pitch. Gie't its time."
"But you know, Winny, the panners be most nigh empty--more's the pity."
"True o' that. But consider how fur's been the day. Seven mile to
Monnerth--a good full load goin'--an' same back, whens we be home. An't
han't had thing to eat, 'cept the pickin's 'long the roadside."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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