Part 15 (1/2)
”Only, sir, that you consort with and would wed me to one who, although you may not know it, has, I am told, much to fear from him, so much that I wonder that he has ridden to seek his Grace's presence. Well, you are ill and I am angered and together we are but as steel and flint, from the meeting of which comes fire that may burn us both. Therefore, since being better than I thought, you need me not and have only cruel words for greeting, I'll bid you farewell and get me back to those who are kindlier. G.o.d be with you, and give you your health again.”
”Ah!” said or rather snarled Sir John, ”I thought as much and am ready for the trick. You'd win back to sanctuary, would you, and the company of that old wizard, Andrew Arnold, thence to make a mock of me? Well, not one step do you take upon that road while I live,” and pus.h.i.+ng past her he opened the door and shouted aloud.
Apparently the men and woman whom Eve had met in the pa.s.sage were still waiting there, for instantly they all reappeared.
”Now, fellows,” said Sir John, ”and you, Jane Mell, take this rebellious girl of mine to the chamber in the prisoners' tower, whence I think she'll find it hard to fly to sanctuary. There lock her fast, feeding her with the bread and water of affliction to tame her proud spirit, and suffering none to go near her save this woman, Jane Mell. Stay, give me that bodkin which she wears lest she, who has learned b.l.o.o.d.y ways of late, should do some of you or herself a mischief.”
As he spoke one of the men deftly s.n.a.t.c.hed the dagger from Eve's girdle and handed it to Sir John who threw it into the farthest corner of the room. Then he turned and said:
”Now, girl, will you go, or must you be dragged?”
She raised her head slowly and looked him in the eyes. Mad as he was with pa.s.sion there was something in her face that frightened him.
”Can you be my father?” she said in a strained, quiet voice. ”Oh! glad am I that my mother did not live to see this hour.”
Then she wheeled round and addressed the men.
”Hearken, fellows. He who lays a finger on me, dies. Soon or late a.s.suredly he dies as he would not wish to die. Yes, even if you murder me, for I have friends who will learn the truth and pay back coin for coin with interest a hundredfold. Now I'll go. Stand clear, knaves, and pray to G.o.d that never again may Red Eve cross the threshold of her prison. Pray also that never again may you look on Hugh de Cressi's sword or hear Grey d.i.c.k's arrows sing, or face the curse of old Sir Andrew.”
So proud and commanding was her mien and so terrible the import of her words, that these rough hinds shrank away from her and the woman hid her face in her hands. But Sir John thundered threats and oaths at them, so that slowly and unwillingly they ringed Eve round. Then with head held high she walked thence in the midst of them.
The prisoners' chamber beneath the leads of the lofty tower was cold and unfurnished save for a stool and a truckle-bed. It had a great door of oak locked and barred on the outer side, with a grille in it through which the poor wretch within could be observed. There was no window, only high up beneath the ceiling were slits like loopholes that not a child could have pa.s.sed. Such was the place to which Eve was led.
Here they left her. At nightfall the door was opened and Jane Mell entered, bearing a loaf of bread and a jug of water, which she set down upon the floor.
”Would you aught else?” she asked.
”Ay, woman,” answered Eve, ”my thick red woollen cloak from my chamber, and hood to match. Also water to wash me, for this place is cold and foul, and I would die warm and clean.”
”First I must get leave from my lord your father,” said the woman in a surly voice.
”Get it then and be swift,” said Eve, ”or leave it ungotten; I care little.”
Mell went and within half an hour returned with the garments, the water and some other things. Setting them down without a word she departed, locking and bolting the door behind her.
While there remained a few rays of light to see by, Eve ate and drank heartily, for she needed food. Then having prayed according to her custom, she laid herself down and slept as a child sleeps, for she was very strong of will and one who had always taught herself to make the best of evil fortune. When she woke the daws were cawing around the tower and the sun shone through the loopholes. She rose refreshed and ate the remainder of her bread, then combed her hair and dressed herself as best she could.
Two or three hours later the door was opened and her father entered.
Glancing at him she saw that little sleep had visited him that night, for he looked old and very weary, so weary that she motioned to him to sit upon the stool. This he did, breathing heavily and muttering something about the steepness of the tower stairs. Presently he spoke.
”Eve,” he said, ”is your proud spirit broken yet?”
”No,” she answered, ”nor ever will be, living or dead! You may kill my body, but my spirit is me, and that you will never kill. As G.o.d gave it so I will return it to Him again.”
He stared at her, with something of wonder and more of admiration in his look.
”Christ's truth,” he said, ”how proud I could be of you, if only you'd let me! I deem your courage comes from your mother, but she never had your shape and beauty. And now you are the only one left, and you hate me with all your proud heart, you, the heiress of the Claverings!”
”Whose estate is this,” she answered, pointing to the bare stone walls.
”Think you, my father, that such treatment as I have met with at your hands of late would breed love in the humblest heart? What devil drives you on to deal with me as you have done?”