Part 11 (2/2)
Sir George Douglas, breakfasting in his castle of Dalkeith seven miles south of Edinburgh, got word of it with his quails and became unusually thoughtful.
Thoughtfully, he allowed himself to be dressed and barbered, his beard trimmed, his lounging robe slipped over discreet Swiss s.h.i.+rt. Thoughtfully, he opened the tower door which led out of his bedchamber and climbed twenty steps to his private study, where a dishevelled-looking person was waiting. He shut the door. ”Forgivethe delay. I cannot always receive the Lord Protector's messages as freely as I should wish..
The rain was driving against the exposed tower window: the man's outer clothes were sodden. He pushed back his hood, revealing a close cap fitting from eyebrows to ears, and said courteously, ”I am sure his Grace would be unhappy to think otherwise, Sir George..
This was a trifle near the mark for a messenger, but Douglas had his mind on other things. He said briefly, ”I must confess, as matters now stand between myself, Lord Grey and the Protector, I had not expected to hear from London yet..
”How providential,” said the hatted one comfortably, ”that you didn't on that account have me stopped at the gate. So fickle are statesmen. Today the palace, tomorrow the oubliette and the elegiac distich..
This time, Sir George turned his full attention on the stranger. ”If you have a dispatch, sir, I should be glad to see it..
”In a way I have,” said the other cheerfully. ”Je suis oiseau: voyez mes ailes. And then again, in a way I haven't. Je suis souris; vivent les rats. What I have is worth hearing, though. Shall I read it to you?” And he pulled from his coat a creased bundle of papers. ”Here we are. Rather long, but I'll spare you the clay and disinter the lotus. For example-” And picking out a page, he read quickly aloud.
”'Sir George Douglas, the laird of Ormiston, and two of the Humes have been here, Douglas coming as a Borderer to serve the King. . . . I reminded him of his benefits from the late King, and threatened him if he revolted again, I should pursue him and his friends to the death. He answered he would advance the marriage, and promised to draw his brother and the rest clean from the Governorand to do his utmost to put the Queen in our hands, if requited in England for his lands-which I have guaranteed with my own lands. I have resolved to prove him, and if he does not keep his promise, the very next day Coldingham shall down, and himself smart font”Postscript- Oh,” said the stranger disingenuously, turning over the last page. ”I remember. I left the postscript with my friends, although that was rather interesting too. What do you make of it all?.
What Sir George thought was soon forthcoming. With undisturbed calm, he drew his gown about him, and seating himself negligently near the door, remarked, ”I should guess this to be a somewhat naYve effort at blackmail. I a.s.sume that unless I pay you a large sum of121money, and release you unharmed, your friends will send the original to the Scottish court..
”Well, at least you seem to know what it's all about,” said the reader, refolding the papers. ”The extract is, of course, copied from a dispatch from Lord Grey to the Protector, and I am sure you are about to take the wind from my sails by telling me that the Queen Dowager knows all about it..
If alarmed by this perspicacity, Sir George gave no sign. ”She does, of course..
”Quite. But even if I believed that-which I don't-I still think you might be interested in seeing that postscript. It does exist, you know. So does the copy. I'm King of the Fidlers and swear 'tis a truth. You can have them all for a nominal price..
”And the nominal price?.
”You have an English prisoner called Jonathan Crouch,” remarked the blackmailer, affably, and was interrupted by Sir George himself, showing the first signs of animation.
”Dear me!” he said. ”You seem to be a remarkably subterranean young man. I took such a prisoner, yes; although it is not generally known..
”Let me see him and you may have the report..
There was a short pause. The offer was nicely put. No one, however reinforced by his sovereign's complicity, could be expected to resist the lure of a postscript devoted to his own affairs in an English dispatch. That the postscript existed he felt sure: the fellow was too d.a.m.nably pat with the rest. Ergo, by falling in with the suggestion, he was admitting to no more than natural curiosity: a subtle and far from fortuitous point.
There was a further consideration. He did not particularly care that this dispatch should reach the Queen. And there might be others which he would care about even less. At this point in his meditations Sir George cleared his throat. ”You appear to take monumental measures for a very simple end. A man of your resource would prefer, I should have thought, to use his powers of . . . interception for a more rewarding cause.” He slipped the cabuchon ruby off his thumb and tossed it on the table between them.
”Fools make news, and wise men carry it. You could become a rich man..
”I am a rich man,” said his visitor. He fixed a cool eye on the Douglas, disregarding the ring. ”As you, I am sure, are a busy one. If122therefore our bargain is concluded, perhaps Mr. Crouch might be bought here..
There was nothing else for it. Sir George said regretfully, ”I am afraid I cannot keep my side of the bargain. A matter of some disappointment to me. The gentleman you mention was sold to a friend of mine some time ago.” He added kindly, ”If it will serve, I can direct you to him and even enable you to enter the house, if you wish..
A pause developed, and prolonged itself to uncomfortable lengths. Then, unexpectedly, the other laughed. ”Oh Douglas, oh Douglas, Tender and true . . . I am moved to respect. Very well. The bargain stands. Tell me the name of your friend, and you shall have your doc.u.ments..
Sir George rose, crossed to his desk, and tossed a paper from it into the other's hands. On the one side was a signed note from Sir Andrew Hunter, promising payment of one hundred crowns for the person of Mr. Jonathan Crouch; on the other was a scrawled note in Hunter's handwriting. It said, For our friends.h.i.+p, send me word if there is an attempt to trace Crouch. I would not lose him to enemies before I can exchange him for my cousin.
His visitor read both sides and smiled. ”You weigh your scales generously. Thank you..
Sir George said, retrieving the paper, ”Of course, I cannot as a gentleman ignore the note. I propose to send one of my secretaries to Ballaggan, with a fairly large escort, to warn Sir Andrew that a stranger has indeed inquired about Crouch. Hunter keeps a well-guarded house, but it is not always possible to make sure that, in the confusion of entering, a party such as mine might not become larger than it should be . . . a common risk, I fear, in these times..
”Yes. Oh, indeed, I am quite aware of the risk,” said the other, and a long, slow smile pleated the skin around his mouth.
Sir George found himself for some reason smiling back. For an instant he was overcome with an extraordinary feeling of kins.h.i.+p for this odd sharp-witted person. Borne on the tide of this sensation, he said, ”Then to seal our bargain, will you drink with me? I have a very fine claret to hand . .
His visitor a.s.sented politely, adding, as Sir George crossed to the armory, ”Although I trust you have nothing against beer?.
”On the contrary,” said Sir George, pouring with an antic.i.p.atory hand.
”Because-your health-” said the other, ”I took the liberty of leaving a hogshead for you with your Chamberlain below. A little stirred up, I'm afraid; but it should settle.” And, understanding each other very well, the eyes of the two men met; Sir George's alight with evocative delight.
Left alone after bidding his anonymous friend goodbye, Douglas returned to the study and stood for a moment, playing absently with the ruby where it lay on the table. ”Well, I shan't make that mistake again..
He slipped it back on his finger and gazed at it for a moment. ”But if he doesn't fancy bullion, what sort of bait is he going to take, this wild cormorant, this acidulous osprey of ours? Something. There must be something he wants. And whatever it is, by G.o.d, I'll find it and make a collar and chain of it with 'Douglas' in fine Gothic letters on the neck..
* * *The spirit of Ballaggan Keep, imperious, impervious, implacab~, brooding over its fastness like a tribal mascot, was Dame Catherine, Sir Andrew's mother.
Catherine Hunter was rising seventy, and crippled in her lower limbs to a degree which condemned her to bed or chair for life. This, together with the loss of her husband at Elodden and the death shortly afterward of a brilliant older son, had turned the wines of her palmy days-already rather a variable commodity-into a corked and vinegary brew.
The keep, tall, gauche and of no particular charm for the pa.s.ser-by, was stuffed inside with the prizes of Lady Hunter's epicurean eye. No rushes covered the floors: these were set with Spanish azulejos and covered with rugs from Turkey and the Levant. The beds were wrought and gilded, and hung with heavy taffetas; the chests and tables in marble and scented woods wore tapestry cloths and carried a pellicle of Aldine folios. Other specimens of her library shared bedside honours with her Maltese terrier Cavall.
The accretion of all these aids to graceful living would have taxeda larger estate than Ballaggan. Lamentably aware that-even if goldmines sprang beneath his feet, like Olwen's trefoils-his mother'sfancy would still outpace him, Sir Andrew was sometimes reduced toa state of nervous irritation very close to rebellion. That he invariablyspared her either complaint or reproach labelled him a soft mark among his fellow knights and earned him a solid revenue of womanly sympathy.
It also brought him the admiration of Mr. Jonathan Crouch, whose temporary career as a prisoner of war, or a sort of promissary note on two legs, had brought him finally to lodge with Sir Andrew.
With Mr. Crouch came his tongue, his teeth, his lips, his hard and soft palate, his maxillary muscles, larynx, epiglottis and lungs: all the apparatus which enabled him, ne plus ultra, to talk. Like the enchanted garden of Jannes, tenanted by daemons, the keep of Ballaggan encased the ceaseless drone of Mr. Crouch's voice. He droned through September until it and his captors were exhausted; then pounced on October with undimmed vigour and worried the blameless days for a fortnight.
By the middle Sat.u.r.day of the month, atrophy had set in, reaching its nadir in the dead time between two and four, when Sir Andrew, whatever business was pressing, visited his mother's room to sit with her. Lady Hunter, strutted upright with pillows, was brus.h.i.+ng the terrier rhythmically as it lay cus.h.i.+oned across her knees. Her face, bewigged and topped by a hooped pearl cap, had the skin of an invalid and her mouth, lightly whiskered, was hatched, above and below, with the spidery wrinkles forced by powerful lips. Her black eyes were fixed unwinkingly on her son, who in turn was directing his aquiline profile, with an air of polite attention, toward Mr. Crouch.
Mr. Crouch, wittily obese like a middle-aged t.i.tmouse, sat enthroned on his stomach, giving tongue. Incidents of his boyhood surged to cataclysmic peaks of pointlessness. Episodes from his career in the Princess Mary's household explored tedium to its petrified core.
”Never,” said Mr. Crouch, pulling himself out of a frenzy of adjectives, ”never shall I weary of describing it, if I live to be a hundred. That I won't..
Something like a strong shudder pa.s.sed over his host. Almost involuntarily Sir Andrew said, ”By the way, are you married, Crouch?.
If the t.i.tmouse was surprised, it was also pleased. It beamed. ”Why, yes sir, I am; and what's more, G.o.d and my Ellen have blessed me with six lovely children; every one a girl, but the Lord will provide. I've had my share of adversity, sir; but as I always say, the way I met my Ellen goes to show that Providence is on our side; as you'll agree when you hear the full story which, since you so kindly ask, I shall have great pleasure in relating to you in due course.” There wasa brief pause, during which Sir Andrew shut his eyes; then Mr. Crouch-his intention duly filed and registered-picked up the limp threads of his monologue. ”And then-.-.
”Andrew!.
”Yes, Mother?” said Sir Andrew. He shot an apologetic look at the soloist, who broke off politely but providently took a fresh breath.
”The people with whom you have contracted to buy fish have been cheating you for five weeks,” said Lady Hunter, brus.h.i.+ng steadily at the terrier's coat. ”The fish served to me while you were away on whatever business you discovered was not only bad, but often putrid. Putrid!” she repeated, with horrid inflection. ”Yet it seems a relatively simple matter to arrange..
Mr. Crouch, a kindhearted person, shut his mouth and fiddled with his points. Sir Andrew said, ”Mother, you should have mentioned it before. I'd no idea, of course. I'll have it put right..
”You were hardly visible long enough to listen,” remarked Lady Hunter, brus.h.i.+ng. ”You must forgive me for imagining you were much too busy. The wool coming in for spinning, incidentally, has not improved in quality. Whatever steps you took about that seem to have been baulked by another agency. You must tell me if you are finding things a little difficult, Andrew,” pursued the lady. ”After all, no mother expects both her sons to be alike. Dear Andrew,” she said, fixing her black stare on Crouch and brus.h.i.+ng still, ”is going to be a great help to me in my old age..
”I'm sure, Mistress,” said the t.i.tmouse, glancing uncomfortably at his host's submissive head. And from his good-natured soul he added, ”And he did you honour in the fighting last month, I'll be bound..
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