I had flattered myself with that prospective atonement, as though it was a worthy action already counted to my credit. I saw this in a flash now, now that I was failing again, and the perception was like an agony in my bones. It seemed to me that a woman’s face rose out of the darkness before me, mournful with reproach, and the face was not the wife’s who waited in Keswick, but Dorothy’s. She looked at me from beneath a hood half thrown back from the head and across her shoulder, as though she had passed me, even as I had seen in my fancies a woman’s face look at me, when I had watched the procession of my hours to come in the Rector’s Library at the Jesuit College.
Meanwhile Rookley’s knee so closely pressed me to the floor that my struggles did but exhaust myself, and delay the event. I was no match for him in bodily strength, and he held me, moreover, at that disadvantage wherein a weak man might well have triumphed over a strong.
I could get no purchase either with hand or foot, and lay like a fish flapping helplessly on the deck of a boat, the while he pressed my arms closer and closer together.
It is not to be imagined that this unequal contest lasted any great while. The thoughts which I have described raced through my mind while my cry seemed still to be echoing about the walls, and as though in answer to that cry, a latch clicked as I felt the cord tighten about my elbows.
The sound came from somewhere on the opposite side of the hall, and I do not think that Rookley heard it, for now and again he laughed in a low, satisfied fashion as though engrossed in the pleasure of his task. I heard a shuffling of feet, and a light brightened in the passage which led to the steward’s office. A great hope sprang up within me. There was one servant in the house whom I could trust.
“Ashlock! “I shouted at the top of my voice.
The footsteps quickened to a run.
“Damn you!” muttered Rookley, and he let go thw cord. He had raised his hand to strike, but I did not give him time for the blow. With a final effort I gathered up my knees beneath me and raised myself on my fore-arms. Rookley’s balance was disturbed already. He put out a hand to the floor. I got the sole of my foot upon the boards, jerked him off my back, and rolled over upon him with my fingers at his throat Ashlock ran towards us with a lighted lamp in his hand. I let go my hold and got to my feet. Rookley did the same.
“You came in the nick of time,” said Rookley, “My good cousin would have murdered me;” and he arranged his cravat
“That’s a lie,” said I, with a breath between each word.
“It was Mr Covering’s cry I heard,” said Ashlock.
And while he spoke a commotion arose in the upper part of the house. Doors opened and shut, there was a hurry of footsteps along the passages, and voice called to voice in alarm. My cry had roused the household, and I saw Jervas Rookley smile. I crossed the hall and picked up my sword. As I returned with it, I saw here and there a white face popped over the balusters of the staircase.
“I have fought with you in your way,” said L “It is your turn to fight with me in mine.”
Rookley crossed his arms.
“To fight with a hunted traitor!” said he. “Indeed, my cousin, you ask too much of me; I would not rob the gallows of so choice a morsel. Burtham, Wilson, Blacket!” and he lazily called up the stairs to the servants clustered there. “This is your work. Ashlock, do you carry the news to the sheriff.”
I glanced at Ashlock; he did not stir. On the staircase I heard a conflict of muttering voices, but as yet no one had descended. So a full minute passed, while my life and more than my life hung in the balance.
I kept my eyes on Rookley, debating in my mind what I should do, if his servants obeyed him. Every nerve in my body tingled with the desire to drive at him with my sword point; but he stood, quietly smiling, his arms folded, his legs crossed. I could not touch him; being unarmed he was best armed of all, and doubtless he knew it.
“Well!” he asked, as with some impatience. “Are my servants leagued against their master to betray his King?”
One man descended a couple of steps, and then Ashlock spoke.
“Sir,” he said, “it is not for poor men like us to talk of kings. Kings are for you, masters are for us. And as it seems there are two kings for you to choose between, so there are two masters for the likes of us. And for my part,” he raised his voice, and with his voice his face, towards the stairs—“for my part, I stand here; “and he crossed over to me and stood by tny side.
I can see the old man now as he held up the lamp in his tremulous hand and the light fell upon his wrinkled face. I can hear his voice ringing out bold and confident. It was Ashlock who saved me that night I saw the servants draw back at his words, and the mutter of voices recommenced.
“Very well,” cried Rookley, starting forward. “Choose him for your master, then, and see what comes of it!” He shook his fist towards the servants in his passion. “One and all you pack to-morrow. Your master, I tell you, is the master of Blackladies.”
“They have no master, then,” I cried, for it seemed that at his words they again pressed forward. “For you have less right here than L”
Rookley turned and took a step or two towards me, his eyes blazing, his face white. But he spoke in a low voice, nodding his head between the words:
“They shall pay for this at Applegarth,”
It was my turn to start forward.
“Dorothy Curwen shall pay for this—little Dorothy Curwen!”—with a venomous sneer. ”Your friend, eh? But mine too. Ah, my good cousin, it seems your fortune always to come second.”
At that I did what I had so much longed to do when I first saw him asleep. He was within two feet of me; I held my drawn sword in my hand. I made no answer to him in speech, but the instant the words were past his lips, I took my sword by the blade, raised it above my head, and brought the hilt crashing down upon his face. He spun round upon his heels and pitched sideways at my feet
“Now, Ashlock,” said I, “get me a horse.”
“But there’s no such thing, sir, at Blackladies,” he replied. “They were seized this many a week back.”
“How travels this?” and I pointed to Jervas Rookley.
“He travels no further than between the diningroom and the cellar.”
And I crossed into the little parlour and picked op my cloak and hat. Then I returned to the hall. Burtham had raised Jervas Rookley’s head upon his knee, and Wilson was coming from the kitchen with a bason of water and a towel. They looked at me doubtfully but said no word. I went to the hall door, unfastened the bolts, and started at a run down the drive. I had not, however, advanced many yards, when a cry from behind brought me to a halt; and in a little, old Ashlock joined me.
“I did but go for my hat, sir,” he said, reproachfully. “A bald pate and an old man—they are two things that go ill with a night wind.”
He was walking by my side as he spoke, and the words touched me to an extreme tenderness. He was venturing himself, without a question, into unknown perils, and for my sake. I could hear his steps dragging on the gravel, and I stopped.
“It must not be,” I said. “God knows I would be blithe and glad to have a friend to bear me company, and it is a true friend you have been to me.” I laid a hand upon his shoulder “But it is into dangers and hardships I shall be dragging you, and that I have no right to do without I can give you strength to win through them, and that strength I cannot give, These last days, the rain and hail have beat upon me by day, and the night wind has whistled through my bones in the dark. My roof-tree has been a jutting rock, my bed the sopping bracken, and so it will be still. It needs all my youth to bear it, it will mean death and a quick death to you. You must go back.”
“Master Lawrence,” he replied, catching at my arm, “Master Lawrence, I cannot go back!” and there was something like a sob in his voice.
“Had we horses,” I continued, “I would gladly take you. But even this morning there is work for me to do that cries for all my speed.”
Ashlock persisted, however, pleading that I should name a place where he could join me. Two things were plain to me: one that he had resolved to throw his lot in with me; the other that I must cross the fells to Applegarth without the hamper of his companionship. For Jervas Rookley, I felt sure, would seize the first moment of consciousness to exact his retribution. At last a plan occurred to me.
“You have crossed to Lord’s Island already,” I said. “Go to Lord Derwentwater again. Tell him all you have heard to-night, and make this request in my name: that he will keep you until I send word where you can join me.”
“But Lord Derwentwater has fled,” Ashlock exclaimed. “He fled north to Mr. Lambert, and thence goes to his own seat at Dilston, in Northumberland.”
“He has fled! How know you this?”
“I was at Lord’s Island this two days since, sir, seeking news of you. The warrant was out for him even then. He meets Mr. Forster at Greenrig, on the 6th of October. He told me he had sent to your hiding-place and bidden you join him there.”
“At Greenrig with Mr. Forster? Then the country’s risen.” I could have gone down on my knees as I had seen my cousin do. “If only God wills, the rising will succeed;” and I cried out my prayer, from a feeling even deeper than that I cherished for the King. “Listen, Ashlock! The morning is breaking. Do you meet me by noon betwixt Honister Crag and Ennerdale Lake. There is a path; hide within sight of it;” and without waiting to hear more from him I set out at a run across Borrowdale. It was daylight before I had crossed the valley, and the sun was up. But I cared little now whether or no I was seen and known. Since Jervas Rookley knew I had lain hidden those first weeks at Applegarth—why, it mattered little now who else discovered the fact. But indeed, Jervas Rookley was not the only one who knew.
For when I reached Applegarth, I found the house deserted. I banged at the door, and for my pains heard the echo ring chill and solitary through an empty house. I looked about me; not a living being could be seen. Backwards and forwards I paced in front of those blind windows and the unyielding door. I ran to the back of the house, thinking I might find an entrance there. But the same silence, the same deadly indifference were the only response I got. I know not what wild fears, what horrible surmises passed through my mind! It was because the house had sheltered me, I cried to myself, that desolation made its home there. I dropped on the grass and the tears burst from my eyes. For I remembered how Dorothy had sung within the chambers, how her little feet had danced so lightly down the stairs.
Ashlock was already waiting me when I retraced my steps to the Honister Crag, and, indeed, I was long behind the time.
“To Greenrig,” I said. Towards evening, however, Ashlock’s strength gave out, and coming to the house of a farmer, I procured a lodging. In truth, I was well-nigh exhausted myself. The next day, however, Ashlock was in no condition to accompany me, and leaving a little money which I had with me for his maintenance, I went forward on my way alone. Sleeping now in a cottage, now in the fields, and little enough in either case, using such means of conveyance as chance offered me upon the road, I came early in the morning of the sixth to Greenrig in Northumberland, and while wandering hither and thither, in search of the place of meeting, and yet not daring to inquire for it, I came upon a cavalcade. It was Lord Derwentwater at the head of his servants, all armed and mounted. I ran forward to meet him.
“What is it, lad?” he asked, reining in his horse. I do not wonder that he had no knowledge of me. For my clothes hung about me in tatters. No dirtier ragamuffin ever tramped a country road.
“How is it they did not seize your horses?” I asked, with my wits wandering.
Lord Derwentwater laughed heartily.
“There is a saying of Oliver Cromwell’s,” he replied, “that he could gain his end in any place with an assload of gold. But who are you that put the question?” and he bent over his horse’s neck.
I caught at the reins to save myself from falling.
“I am Lawrence Clavering,” I said; “you bade me meet you here.” And with that I swooned away.