The Courtship of Morrice Buckler: A RomanceMason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
History
The Courtship of Morrice Buckler: A Romance
Mason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
Great Britain -- History -- James II, 1685-1688 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
about twenty yards from the entrance, in an angle of the wall.
"It is Mr. Buckler?" he asked shortly.
"Yes," I answered. "What news of Julian?"
"You have but just arrived?"
"The clock struck four as I rode through Law-ford's Gate. What news of
Julian?"
He gave a sharp, sneering laugh.
"Ay, ay," he said. "No one so flustered as your loiterer." And he
stepped out from the shadow of the house. "Sir Julian?" he cried
hastily. "Sir Julian will be hanged at noon to-morrow."
I swayed in the saddle; the houses spun round me. I felt the man's arm
catch at and steady me.
"It is my fault?" I whispered.
"No, lad!" he returned, with a new touch of kindliness in his tone.
"Nothing could have saved him. I should know; I am his attorney. Maybe
I spoke too harshly, but this last week he has been eating his heart
out for the sight of you, and your tardiness plagued me. There, there!
Lay hold of your pluck! It is a man your friend needs, not a weak
girl."
There was a pitying contempt in the tone of these last words which
stung me inexpressibly. I sat up erect, and said, with such firmness
as I could force into my voice:
"Where does Sir Julian lie?"
"In the Bridewell to-night. But you must not go there in this plight,"
he added quickly, for I was already turning the horse. "You would ruin
all."
He glanced sharply up and down the lane, and went on:
"We have been together over-long as it is." Then he tapped with his
foot for a moment on the pavement. "I have it," said he. "Go to the
'Thatched House Tavern,' in Lime Kiln Lane. I will seek you there.
Wait for me; and, mind this, let no one else have talk with you! Tell
the people of the house I sent you--Mr. Joseph Vincott. It will
commend you to their care."
With that he turned on his heel, ran up to the opening of the street,
and after a cautious look this side and that, strolled carelessly
away. I gave him a few moments' grace, and then hurried with all
despatch to the tavern, asking my direction as I went. There I ordered
a private room, and planting myself at the window, waited impatiently
for Vincott's coming.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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