Sir Christopher: A Romance of a Maryland Manor in 1644

"'Twill go hard with Dick," said one; "the Governor is a just man, but a terror to evil-doers. I miss my guess if Dick and his brother Ralph both know not the feeling of handcuffs ere nightfall."

"Not Ralph!" interrupted another. "What justice were there in punishing the innocent with the guilty? Ralph Ingle is as frank and hearty-spoken a gentleman as there is in Maryland. He comes into my cottage and plays with the baby, and the boys run to the door as soon as ever his voice is heard."

"Ay, but how comes it he is so friendly with that rascal brother of his?"

"Why, blood is thicker than water – even holy water."

A laugh greeted this sally; but the laughers took the precaution to cross themselves.

"You would none of you exercise yourselves much over the intimacy," said a third gossip, "had ye seen as I did the two brothers talking on deck after the row with Early. Ralph told Dick he was quit of him, tired of trying to make a gentleman of him, and wished they might never meet again. He did indeed – I heard it with my own ears."

"That's the most wonderful part of it," said the first speaker; "most of the things you tell you've heard through the ears of some one else."

Gossip number three turned red and opened her mouth to deliver a crushing retort, when she discovered that the attention of her hearers had been distracted by the arrival of a new-comer.

It was Reuben Early, whose wife had bound as big a bandage as possible about his head. He came up to join the group, receiving on all sides gratifying commiserations upon the wound he had been dealt by Richard Ingle's hand; and though he had some difficulty in explaining why he had not returned it, nor made any defence after all his bold talk, he still continued to pose as a hero, and to make his townfellows feel that in his humiliation they had received an individual and collective insult.

"When the villain struck me," he explained, "I was encumbered with the sack of grain I was bearing, and ere I could lay it down and reach my weapon, the fellow had disappeared down the hatchway."

"Come, come, Reuben!" cried a sceptic near-by, "we all know you are readier with your tongue than with either sword or musket; and I for one am not sorry to have you taught a lesson, were it not that the blow was struck at a citizen of St. Mary's, and therefore at us all. I am for punishing Dick Ingle for the assault, yet lightly; but for the treason he spoke he should be hung at the yard-arm of his own ship."

"Not hung perhaps; but surely put in custody of Sheriff Ellyson here," suggested another of the group, who stood in the morning sunlight outside the log cabin which served for a hostelry.

"Aha!" laughed the man next him, "our innkeeper would not see the number of drinkers of his good ale diminished by one. How say you, Master Boniface, would it not be well to compel the traitor to drink himself to death at the expense of the Lord Proprietary?"

All but two of the men laughed at this sally. The innkeeper naturally failed to see the fun of a jest of which he was the butt, and the sheriff took the suggestion into serious consideration.

"By the Saints, it were a good scheme and has much to commend it. It may seem a pity to waste good wine on a bad man, when the one is so scarce and the other so plenty; but it would mightily relieve the authorities. 'Put him in the custody of the sheriff!' you say; and how, pray, am I to hold him when I have no jail save my two hands? Can I lie with him at night and eat and drink by day with my arm locked in his? I would he were at the bottom of the sea!"

"If every man were at the bottom of the sea who has been wished there, it would be hard to find a channel for the ships, and we might walk to England dry-shod!"

It was Giles Brent who spoke, and the men, who had not seen him approach and did not know how much he had overheard, looked somewhat taken aback, for the discussion of public officers and their duties was not looked upon with special favor.

"I tell you, my men," Governor Brent continued, returning their salute with a wave of his hand, "this standing about the door of ale-houses is a poor way of life for pioneers. It breeds idleness, and idleness breeds discontent. Get you all in and drink the King's health at my charge, and then off with you to work; and the more you use your mouths to eat and drink withal, and the less for idle chatter, the better it shall fare with you and your families."

The men, nothing loath to obey the behest, filed into the inn, cheering alternately for the King, Lord Baltimore, Leonard Calvert, the Governor now in England, and his deputy, Giles Brent, the last cheer being the mightiest of all and only drowned by the gurgling of the great draughts of October ale pouring down their throats.

"Hold, Ellyson," said Brent, as the sheriff passed in last of all. "I want a word with you."

"Yes, your Excellency; you do me honor," said Ellyson, doffing his cap of maintenance.

"Does Richard Ingle take his meals on board ship or ashore?"

"I'm not rightly sure, your Excellency; but I do think he takes his supper here at the inn, and the other meals on his ship."

"Does he come alone?"

"Sometimes alone, but oftener with his brother."

"At what hour does he sup?"

"Oh, any time after the day's work is done, and then sits carousing till all hours. I have seen him drunk enough to light his pipe at a pump ere midnight."

"That is well. A man in his cups may be apprehended, even by a sheriff. Here, read this. 'Tis a proclamation bidding him yield himself to your custody before February first. That will put him off the scent, for he will plan to finish loading and slip off at the end of the month. But to let him do this were to encourage all evil-doers and enemies of the Commonwealth; therefore it behooves us to get him under arrest in short order. When he comes to-night, do you invite him to sit down and sup with you. Give him all he will drink, and scrimp not yourself either. Remember you both drink at my charge. Then, when the rest of the drinkers are gone, do you serve your warrant on him, and hold him at your peril till I call for him. Do yonder fellows know anything of the prospect of the arrest?"

"They said nothing."

"Then they know nothing. I would I could be as sure that when they know nothing they say nothing. Be you silent as the grave. You are a close-tongued fellow enough save when the wine-cup loosens your tongue and lets out your brains, and leaves you rolled up in a corner like a filthy hogshead. But never mind – never mind; you are better than many around you. I give you good-morning."

So the two parted, Ellyson entering the tavern and Brent turning into the path that led to the house of Councillor Neale.

As he passed on his way, he thought to himself, "Pray Heaven he heeds not that caution! If he be not well drunken this night our well-laid plan falls to the ground, and then there's a pretty muddle."

CHAPTER VI

THE KING'S ARMS

It was already dark on the night after Giles Brent's talk with young Huntoon, when Captain Richard Ingle entered the doorway of The King's Arms. On the outside there was little to mark the difference between the hostelry and the other log-cabins, except that at right angles both to house and road hung a sign-board decorated with the name of the inn, and bearing below in gaudy colors the standard of the Commonwealth.

Within, the long low-raftered room, despite its bareness, had that air of good cheer which the devil knows how to throw around places where men meet to drink themselves into his likeness.

With his swashbuckler air and swinging bravado of carriage, Ingle was a not unattractive figure. His height was above the average, and he wore his jerkin and slashed doublet jauntily. His face might have had claims to beauty, but for its sinister expression, and to many of those who looked at him this expression, combined with his reckless bearing, constituted a certain fascination. The hall mark of the devil adds value.

With the smell of the sea which hung about Dick Ingle was associated an air of mystery, as of one who could tell much if he would, and the dignity of a captain who from his quarter-deck might defy king, lords, and commons; though justice might some day reach out its long arm for him ashore, and sweep along with him any rash landsman who ventured on too close an intimacy.

Just now, after his recent treasonable speeches aboard The Reformation, any display of acquaintance was held to be specially injudicious, and consequently, though all the men around the inn-board looked up at Captain Ingle's entrance, none moved to make room for him on the bench.

The room was so thick with tobacco smoke that the candles set in pine knots for sockets at various intervals along the board (which was literally a board, supported on horses of wood) cast only a glimmering dimness around them. Ingle raised his hand to his eyes and stood a moment, peering from under it at the table and the group seated around it. As he took in the meaning of the sudden silence and the averted glances, a smile of contempt settled about his mouth.

"Ah, friends," he cried jovially, "I am glad to find so many good fellows met together. Councillor Neale, I will ask a word with you later about the bill of goods consigned to you."

The councillor cast down his eyes as sheepishly as though all must know the goods were of doubtful repute.

"Cornwaleys, The Reformation sails in a day or two, and I advise you to prepare your message of loyalty to the Lord General Cromwell without delay."

Cornwaleys would have given a hundred pounds rather than that any should know he had planned to make his future safe by riding two horses, and making his submission to Parliament while he threw up his cap for the King.

The other men about the board cowered. The whizzing of the lash was in the air, and every back quivered with the expectation that it might feel the next blow.

But having vented his spleen in these unpleasantries, the great man grew affable, and turning to the wall where a large placard was posted, he exclaimed, —

"Ha, Sheriff, here is a letter addressed to thee and me by our worshipful Governor pro tem. Let us read it out for the benefit of the company, who have not book-learning enough to decipher it for themselves. 'Tis writ in a shaking hand, too, especially the word 'treason,' and in truth it is as well it should be a trifle vague, for who shall write 'treason' firmly nowadays, when the war has left it so dubious who is our lawful master that none can say but a year hence the very name of this tavern shall be changed from The King's Arms to General Cromwell's Legs?"

A titter ran round the room.

"Hush, gentlemen! He who laughs makes himself sharer in the jest, and a jest at royalty is treason – at least, so says our king-loving Governor. Listen!"

And in a sing-song voice Ingle began to read aloud from the placard, —

"20th January."PROCLAMATION

"I do hereby require, in his Majesty's name, Richard Ingle, mariner, to yield his body to Robert Ellyson, sheriff of this county, before the first day of February next, to answer to such crimes of treason as on his Majesty's behalf shall be objected against him, upon his utmost peril of the law in that behalf; and I do further require all persons that can say or disclose any matter of treason against the said Richard Ingle to inform his Lordship's attorney of it at some time before the said court, to the end it may be then and there prosecuted.

"G. Brent.

"You see, gentlemen, the proclamation grants me till the first of February to deliver myself up; therefore my good friend Ellyson yonder must needs keep his hands off these ten days. Landlord, bring out your ale, and all good fellows shall drink with me a health to – let me see; shall it be Charles, or Oliver? And everlasting damnation to the enemies of – shall we say the King, or the Parliament?"

The men who sat around were ready enough for a drink, but they had no mind for such dangerous toasts, and great was the relief when one shrewd fellow cried out, "Oh, quit your politics, Dick, and let us drink to the next voyage of The Reformation. And now do you give us a song, for there is none can sing like you when you can abstain from swearing long enough. But first, here's to our town, and I give you our rallying cry, – 'Hey for Saint Mary's, and wives for us all!'"

Ingle joined with good-humor in the ringing cheer that followed. "Here goes, then," he said, as the landlord brought in the tankards. "You may guzzle while I sing, and for the benefit of you family men who are so fond of shouting 'Wives for us all!' I'll make it a song of married life. 'Tis sweetly entitled The Dumb Maid, and runs thus, —

"'There was a country bladeWho did wed a pretty maid,And he kindly conducted herHome, home, home.There in her beauty brightLay his whole delight;But alack and alas, she wasDumb, dumb, dumb.'

"Now, gentlemen, you might think this lucky husband would have been content with his good fortune, and let well enough alone; but no, he was for having a perfect wife – which was as if he would have had a white blackbird or a moral courtier or a wise king; so —

"'To the doctor he did her bringFor to cut her chattering string,And he let her tongue onThe run, run, run.In the morning she did rise,And she filled his house with cries,And she rattled in his ears like aDrum, drum, drum.'

"Now the stupid oaf began to discover his blunder, – but perhaps you've had enough."

Cries of "Go on! Go on!"

"Well, then, listen to his fate and take warning, —

"'To the doctor he did goWith his heart well filled with woe,Crying, "Doctor I am quiteUndone, done, done.Now she's turned a scolding wifeAnd I'm weary of my life,For I cannot make her holdHer tongue, tongue, tongue.""'The doctor thus did say —"When she went from me awayShe was perfectly cured of beingDumb, dumb, dumb.But it's beyond the art of man,Let him do the best he can,For to make a scolding woman holdHer tongue, tongue, tongue."'"

Roars of applause greeted the ending of the performance. In the midst of it Ingle crossed the room to the end of the table where Sheriff Ellyson was seated.

"Come, Sheriff, since you and I are met, let us sit down at the further end of the board where our conversation may not disturb these gentlemen."

With this he drew up a stool for himself, and as the mugs of ale were quaffed and the pipes emptied, one after another of the bibbers and smokers reached for his cap, and moved out into the darkness with a muttered good-night, till at last none were left but Neale and Cornwaleys, two men in high standing in the colony and close friends of Governor Brent.

Meanwhile Captain Ingle made vast inroads upon the mighty haunch of venison which the landlord set before him with obsequious attention, and a pasty with five small birds stewed together vanished into his capacious stomach without appearing to diminish his appetite. "Let us have prawns," he called to the landlord, "prawns and cheese to finish with, and brown ale from one of the hogsheads I brought in The Reformation. I always call for that," he added with a wink to Cornwaleys, "when I want something extra good. When you drink what you bring, you know what you get."

"Ay," responded Ellyson jovially, "trundle it up, landlord, cask and all, and we will help ourselves. You may go to bed and welcome, for we mean to make a night on't. Who gets the ale-cask needs no host."

"But who will lock the door?"

"Why, we, to be sure!"

"Faith!" cried the landlord with a shout of laughter, "I've seen ye both after a night's drinking bout, and neither one of you could keep your legs or lift hand to mouth, let alone turning key or drawing bolt."

"Then we'll stay till you are up in the morning," roared Ingle, "and woe to the thief who dares intrude upon the majesty of the law as represented by Sheriff Ellyson, or the rights of freemen supported by the sword of Richard Ingle."

With this the freebooter drew his weapon and after waving it round his head in token of what marauders might expect, laid it on the bench beside him.

The innkeeper, overawed by the sight of such prospective prowess, began to think what a fine thing it would be to substitute this gallant blade for the pale little sheriff.

"I'll tarry at least till these other gentlemen are gone home," he said, and betook himself to the other end of the table. Neale and Cornwaleys loitered a few minutes, then rose with a yawn and a stretching of the arms and legs.

"Give you good evening, gentlemen!" Neale said to those at the end.

"Good-night, Sir Landlord, and thanks for your good fire and better ale!" called Cornwaleys, following him lazily out at the door.

But outside their idle lounging ceased. They drew close together and whispered anxiously. The watch passed. They only drew closer into the shadow and let him go by. Then they pressed their faces to the hole in the shutters, and stood gazing at the pair inside, who sat quaffing tankard after tankard by the wavering light of the candles and the red glow of the embers on the hearth.

A few moments later they were joined by a third man. A Monmouth cap was pulled low over his eyes, and the collar of his cloak raised to meet it so that none could see his features. Neale and Cornwaleys showed no surprise at his approach, but seemed to be awaiting him.

"How goes it?" asked the new-comer in a whisper.

"To a charm so far," answered Neale.

"I confess I like not the part we are playing."

"Nor I either, but it must be played. The villagers are much roused against Ingle, yet have a group of them been drinking at his cost at the tavern to-night, and whatever is done by the authorities will give offence in some quarter."

"Ay, and his punishment most of all. There be many that like him for his dare-devil ways, and more that tolerate him for the sake of his brother."

"Ralph is a fine fellow," said Cornwaleys, "and Dick himself is open-handed."

"Ay, and open-mouthed," added Neale. "Some daring souls may whisper touching matters of state; but he must needs shout out his opinions louder than any Roundhead in Parliament."

"The fool!" muttered Brent (for it was he who had just come up).

"Fool he is," answered Neale; "who ever knew Dick Ingle other than a fool? But who shall say it was not truth he spoke when he said the King was no king."

"Well, well," Brent said impatiently, "waste no words on idle speculations; but let us keep our wits to try how we may steer a safe course between the devil and the deep sea. If we apprehend this man 'tis an affront to the Parliament to whom he swears allegiance. If we apprehend him not, 'tis as good as to make ourselves partakers in his lèse-majesté. So 'tis clear the only course is both to apprehend him and to let him go. All the people will hear of the proclamation and of my order of arrest. This will satisfy their sense of justice, and so are we quit of our official duties. And afterward if the sheriff, through some carelessness and neglect, let Richard Ingle go free and he reach his own quarter-deck and set sail for England before ever he be caught – why – "

"Sh!" whispered Cornwaleys, "speak softer, or all will fail. Neale, you have your eye to the chink in the shutter?"

"Ay, and can see as if I were in the room. It is hard to say which is drinking the harder."

"No man can keep his legs with that quantity of ale in his belly," answered Cornwaleys; "we shall find them in the morning on the tavern floor."

"Hm!" reflected Neale, "there is some danger o' that and 'twill not suit our plans neither. We'd best stir Ellyson a bit."

With this he shuffled his feet and moved the shutter back and forth. The sound reached the ear of Ellyson. He paused with his mug half-way to his lips, and then, setting his flagon down hard on the board, he rose, and putting his hand into the breast of his jerkin drew forth something white.

"The fun begins," whispered Neale, flattening his nose against the shutter in the effort to lose no glimpse of what was going forward.

"We must be ready to rush in if Ingle uses him too hard," announced Cornwaleys.

The two men watched with all their eyes, and this is what they saw: —

The giant, having the paper thrust in his face, grew red with rage and strove to rise and reach for his sword, but only succeeded in falling across the table, his hair trailing into the mug of ale. Then the nimble little sheriff, who was perhaps less drunk than he had feigned, whipped around the table and drawing a length of cord from his capacious jerkin succeeded in binding the wrists of his adversary before he could rise. Ingle roared out curses.

The landlord shouted from his bed to know what was the matter.

"Oh, 'tis naught. Give yourself no trouble in the matter. Captain Ingle has had overmuch drink even for him, and I am taking him home."

"There seems to be a break in our fine plan," murmured Neale. "What if Ellyson prove the better man of the two?"

"Rubbish! How can he?"

But a weak arm backed by a clear head can do more than mighty muscles befuddled with beer. Ellyson rapidly made fast his cord, and drawing out a stouter one tied that too, and tugging might and main pulled the captain off his stool headlong to the ground, where he lay for an instant grovelling, and then, gathering himself up, staggered a few paces to the door.

"Thank ye for that, my fine fellow!" said Ellyson. "I could scarce have got ye so far without your own help."

The next move of the little sheriff was a clever one. Hard by the door stood a hand-car used for the moving of casks to the slant of the cellar-way. Its wheels were made of sections of pine logs revolving on rudely fashioned axles. This car Ellyson rolled directly in front of the doorway, and then getting behind Ingle gave him a push which sent him forward face first upon the car.

"What say ye now, Neale?" whispered Cornwaleys, pressing closer than ever into the shadow.

"Say? I say the devil is let loose and helping the little sheriff. Let us follow. His luck may have a turn."

Down the street went the four men, Ellyson grunting and sweating under his burden, but full of the joy of conquest over an unequal foe, and of the complacency born of a sense of duty fulfilled, combined with the hope of preferment. Already he saw himself promoted to fat office, perhaps to the Council itself. But at this juncture a strange thing happened.

The night air had begun to cool Ingle's hot head and clear the beer-befuddled brain. With a mighty effort he tore his arms loose from the encircling cords, and reaching for the poniard in his breast sprang from the car.

Luckily for Ellyson, Ingle's legs were still unsteady. As it was, the doughty little man was consumed with terror at the sight of the giant lunging about with his weapon gleaming in his hand, as he waved it wildly and aimlessly about his head. In his terror Ellyson called aloud for help; but excitement made his voice so weak it could scarcely be heard a hundred feet away.

"The end has come," said Neale and Cornwaleys in a breath.

Then to their dismay, they saw the door of a cottage open and a young man dash out half-clad, but with a loaded pistol in his hand.

"Who cried for help?"

"I, the sheriff! I hold an order from Governor Brent to arrest this man, and I call upon you as a good citizen of Maryland to come to my aid."

Ingle by this time had got his back against a tree, and stood there waving his dagger and calling to his foes to come on if they dared.

"I am no citizen of Maryland," said Romney Huntoon; "I come from Virginia, but I've no objection to bearing a hand in the arrest of this man, for I heard his traitorous ranting, and I vowed then to do him a bad turn if ever it came in my way."

"Your chance is come," muttered the sheriff. "Do you stand here and cover him with your pistol, and I will go round behind the tree and try if I may not bind him where he stands. Ingle," he added, turning to the other, "if you move you are a dead man."

"Hold! in the King's name!"

The three men started as if a cannon had exploded in their midst. The surprise even sobered Ingle. He looked up in speechless amazement as Councillor Neale and Captain Cornwaleys strode up, and with all the double weight of civil and military authority called out to Ingle to surrender.