The Knight Of The Golden Melice, John Turvill Adams [the reading list TXT] 📗

The Scene Of Our Theatre To Boston

And Its Environs.

  

 

The Indefatigable Spikeman Continued To Prosecute His Intrigues With

His Accustomed Audacity. The Evil Passion Which He Had Conceived For

The Pretty Prudence, So Far From Being Checked By The Repulses He

Received From The Wily Maiden--Repulses Which Left Room For Hope--Only

Stimulated To Redoubled Exertion. He Was Like A Sportsman, Whose

Eagerness In The Pursuit Of Game Is Only Heightened By Its Shyness And

Difficulty Of Capture; And, With No Disparagement Of The Virtue Of The

Coquettish Girl, It Must Be Admitted That, For The Want Of Something

Better To Exercise Her Active Faculties, (The Difficulties Of Her

Interviews With Philip Having Increased Since His Banishment,) She

Found A Mischievous Delight In The Power She Possessed Over Spikeman,

And In Playing Off Her Caprices At His Expense. So Far, Indeed, By Her

Blandishments, Had She Succeeded In Blinding His Eyes And Subjecting

Him To Her Power, That She Herself Wondered At Her Success. The Path

Which She Was Treading Was Dangerous, But Her Youthful Presumption,

And The Pleasure She Derived From The Influence Which The Insane

Passion Of The Assistant Gave Her Over Him, Stopped Her Ears To The

Warnings Of Prudence And The Suggestions Of Propriety. If Philip Joy,

Whom With No Divided Affection She Loved In Her Own Way, Had Known

All, He Would Scarcely Have Been So Contented At The Dwelling Of Sir

Christopher. Yet, As We Have Seen, Did Prudence Make No Secret To

Philip Of The Admiration Of Spikeman; And, After The First

Conversation In Which She Disclosed It, Had More Than Once Laughed

With Him At The Advances Of Her Antiquated Lover. But Her Disclosures

Were Made In Such A Manner--With Such A Half-Telling Of The

Truth--With Such A Revelation Here, And A Concealment There, As To

Provoke More Merriment Than Apprehension. 

 

 

Nor, While Indulging A Feeling Which Cannot Be Called Love, Was

Spikeman Regardless Of His Hatreds. He Strove By Every Means To Excite

Distrust And Ill-Will Against Sir Christopher And Arundel. As For The

Humble Philip, He Hardly Looked Upon Him Any Longer As A Rival, Such

Had Been The Success Of The Deceitful Prudence. With These Preliminary

Observations, The Reader Is Prepared For What Follows.

 

 

It Was At The House Of The Assistant Spikeman, And There Were No

Persons In The Room Save Himself And Prudence. The Door Was Closed,

And The Girl Was Standing With A Besom In One Hand, While The

Assistant, Who Was Seated, Had Hold Of The Other, And Was Looking Up

Into Her Hazel Eyes. He Drew Her Down With A Force Which Was Not

Resisted, And Imprinted A Kiss On The Cheek She Half Averted.

  

 

"Prudence," He Said, "How Long Shall I Languish? Verily Am I As One

Who Longs For The Dawn."

 

  

"You Do Not Love Me Half As Much As You Pretend," Said The Girl, Still

Standing By His Side, And Suffering Her Hand To Be Pressed By His.

"There Is Too Wide A Difference Betwixt Us, And I Am All The Time

Afraid You Are Only Making A Fool Of Me." 

 

 

"By This Palm, Softer Than The Down Of The Cygnet; By Thy Lips, Redder

Than Rubies; By Thy Diamond Eyes, I Swear I Love Thee Dearer Than My

Own Soul," Exclaimed Spikeman.

  

 

"How Can You Speak Of Your Soul," Said Prudence, Smiling As She Spoke,

"When You Know You Are Talking And Acting Like A Wicked Man?"

  

 

"Canst Thou Not Understand The Liberty Of The Saints? Is It Not

Written, That To Him Only Who Thinketh A Thing To Be Evil, It Is Evil?

Surely, I Have Explained All This, Even Unto Weariness?"

 

 

"Aye, It May Be So With Thee; But I Am No Saint. I Am Afraid I'm Doing

Very Wrong."

 

 

"If You Thought So," Replied The Assistant, Gently Drawing Her Down

Upon His Lap, "Would You Occupy This Place; Would A Smile Beautify

Those Intoxicating Lips, And Would I Read Paradise In Thine Eyes?"

  

 

Prudence Threw Her Arm Round Spikeman's Neck, And Sunk Her Face Upon

His Shoulder, As If To Evince Her Tenderness And Hide Her Blushes, But

In Truth, To Conceal A Disposition To Laugh.

  

 

"I Wish," She Said, Presently Raising Her Head, And Looking Spikeman

Bewitchingly In The Face, "I Knew Whether You Really Mean What You

Say?"

 

  

"Thou Art Unjust To Me, Prudence. Have I Not Given Every Possible

Proof Of Affection? What Hast Thou Asked That I Have Withheld? Have I

Not Treated Thee As The Elect Lady Of My Soul?"

  

 

"Nay, There Be Some Things Which You Refuse To Tell Me. I Am Foolish,"

She Added, Forcing Some Moisture Into Her Eyes; "But--But--"

  

 

"But What, O Garden Of Delights?" Asked Spikeman, Kissing The

Hypocritical Tears Away. 

 

 

"When You Refuse Me Anything, I Think You Do Not Love--Love Me."

  

 

"Ask, And Thou Wilt Be Convinced Of The Contrary."

  

 

"I Am But A Woman," She Said, Looking At Him With A Smile So Sweet

That We Almost Pardon Poor Spikeman His Infatuation, "And I Feel Like

Dying When I Know There Is A Secret, And Cannot Get At The Bottom Of

It."

  

 

"What Secret? I Understand Thee Not."

 

  

"If You Yourself Had Not Dropped A Hint, I Had Never Thought Of It;

But It Was About This Knight They Call Sir Christopher Gardiner, Whom

Governor Winthrop Thinks So Much Of."

  

 

"We Will Cure Him Of That Folly. What Foolish Thing Have I Said To

This Girl?" Thought The Assistant. "Prudence," He Added, "This Is A

Matter That Cannot Concern Thee. Thou Wouldst Not Have Me Speak Of

Secrets Of State?"

  

 

"Said I Not Right!" Exclaimed Prudence, Rising, And Preparing To Leave

The Room, "That Your Love Was But A Pretext? How, I Want To Know, Is A

Secret Of State Better Than Any Other? Now, Had I Given Poor Philip

Half The Encouragement Which My Silly Fondness For Thee--O, Dear!--"

And She Put Her Hands Up To Her Eyes. 

 

 

"Come," Said Spikeman, Pursuing And Bringing Her Back, "Name Not The

Presumptuous Varlet. On One Condition I Will Tell Thee, Even Though It

Ruin Me."

  

 

"What May That Be?" Inquired The Girl.

 

  

"I Have Long Solicited An Interview Where We Should Not Be Liable To

Interruption. Grant Me That, And I Will Conceal Nothing."

  

 

"Thou Dost Grant Nothing Without A Condition. I Do Not Know," She

Added, Tossing Her Head, "Whether I Care Anything, After All, About

This Mystery. I Dare Say There Is Nothing In It, And, As You Say, It

Concerns Me Not."

  

 

"Be Not Angry, Sweet Prudence. Ask, And I Will Answer All Thy

Questions."

  

 

"You Know, Too, How Much I Would Do To Pleasure You," Sighed Prudence.

"Ah! Me, How Weak A Thing Is A Woman's Heart."

 

  

"Then You Will Not Deny Me? Know Then That Letters Have Arrived From

England, Charging This Knight, Or Pretended Knight, With Diverse Grave

Offences."

 

  

"And What May They Be?" Inquired The Girl.

 

 

"He Is Complained Of As A Fugitive From Justice," Answered Spikeman,

Who Meant To Communicate No More Information Than He Was Obliged To.

 

 

"The Sweet, Handsome Gentleman! I Do Not Believe He Ever Harmed Any

One. But What Did He?"

 

  

"Of That I Am Not Positively Informed, Not Having Seen The Epistles,

They Being Addressed To Private Persons."

 

 

"Have They Anything Against Master Miles, Too?" Asked Prudence.

  

 

"I Doubt Not That He Is The Worse Of The Two, If All Were Known." 

 

 

"These Be Dreadful Lies About The Nicest And Properest Men In The

Country," Cried Prudence. "And What Will Be Done With Them When They

Come Back?"

  

 

"That I Cannot Tell; But Be Sure We Shall Find Some Means Of Getting

Rid Of Them. And Now, Prudence--"

 

  

"I Do Not Know That I Made Any Promise," She Said, Archly; "And You

Have Told Me Very Little, After All." 

 

 

"I Have Told Thee All I Know. Keep Now Equal Good Faith With Me."

 

  

"It Would Be Very Improper," Said The Girl, Turning Away Her Face, "To

Invite A Man To A Secret Meeting; But I Sometimes Wander On The Edge

Of The Forest To Gather Wild Flowers, And Hear The Birds Sing, And If

You Should Come Thither By Accident, At The Same Time, Nobody, I

Suppose, Would Find Fault."

  

 

"But When--But When, Lovely Prudence? Ah! You Comprehend Not The

Longing Of My Soul." 

 

 

"That I Cannot Say Now. I Am Only A Servant Girl, And Must Obey The

Directions Of My Mistress, Which Are Often Very Unreasonable, And

Order Not My Time."  

 

"Would I Were A King, For Your Sake! But Shall It Be Soon?"

 

  

"As Soon As May Be, And I Will Let You Know The Time And Place." So

Saying, She Broke Away From The Enamored Spikeman, And Ran To Acquaint

Her Young Mistress With All That Had Happened.

 

  

The Young Lady Felt Seriously Alarmed At The Communication Of Her

Confidante--An Alarm Increased By The Vagueness Of The Information, As

In A Dark Night The Fearful Imagination Invests With Terrors Some

Object, Which, In The Light Of Day, Proves To Be A Harmless Bush Or

Stump--And The Two Young Women Consulted Together If Any Thing Could

Be Done To Avert The Threatened Danger. They Could Think Of Nothing

Better Than To Acquaint Arundel With It, Which Prudence Took Upon

Herself To Do.

  

 

"But How," Inquired Eveline, "Is It To Be Done?" 

 

 

"You Forget Philip Joy, Madam," Said Prudence.

 

 

"I Might Have Known Better Than To Distrust Your Wiles And Stratagems,

You Cunning Girl," Said Her Mistress; "But Have A Care Of Thyself. I

Sometimes Feel Much Anxiety On Thy Account--But I Forbid This Meeting

With Master Spikeman."

  

 

"An' It Be So," Answered The Waiting-Maid, Pouting, "You May Find Some

One Else, Mistress Eveline, To Tell You About The Plots Of The Old

Dragon, Who Has Us In His Claws."

 

 

 

"For Shame, Thou Petulant Thing! Yet Tell Me Now All Thy Design."

 

  

"You Tell Me Not All Your Thoughts About Master Miles, And Why Should

I Acquaint You With Mine About Joe?" Said Prudence, Bursting Into A

Laugh.

  

 

"There Is Some Difference, Methinks, Between The Cases--Have Thy Way

Though. I Have Confidence In Thee, Prudence, And Believe Thee As Witty

As Pretty. Thy Own Goodness And Love For The Soldier Joy Shall Stand

By Thee Like Guardian Angels, To Save From Harm. Yet Like I Not This

Tampering With Anything That Looks Like Evil."

  

 

The Girl Knelt Down By The Side Of Her Mistress, And Taking The Young

Lady's Hand, Laid It On Her Heart.

  

 

"Thou Feelest," She Said, "How It Beats. Dost Understand What It

Says?" 

 

 

"Methinks It Repeats Only, Philip, Philip, Philip," Said Eveline,

Smiling.

 

  

"Where One Fillip Belongs To Him, A Great Many Belong To Thee,"

Answered The Waiting-Maid, Affectionately. "It Will Be Time Enough To

Let Him Have More When I Am Sure All His Are Mine." 

 

 

The Young Lady Bent Down, And, Throwing Her Arms Round The Maiden's

Neck, Kissed Her Cheek.

  

 

"What Have I Done To Deserve Such Affection?" She Murmured. "O,

Prudence, Thou Art A Treasure To Me; But Be Cautious, Be Cautious, My

Girl. Not For All The Blessings Which Thy Loving Heart Would Heap Upon

Me, Would I Have The Least Harm Befall Thee."

  

 

A Few Days After, As The Summer Sun Was Setting, And His Last Rays

Lighting Up The Tops Of The Trees Into A Yellow Sheen, And Kindling

Into Liquid Gold The Placid Surface Of Massachusetts Bay, A Female

Figure Was To Be Seen Hovering On The Margin Of The Wood In That

Neighborhood. In Consequence Of The Inequalities Of The Ground, And Of

Some Intervening Bushes And Trees, The Collection Of Houses That Lay

Along The Shore Of The Bay Was Not Visible From The Spot Where She Was

Walking, Nor Was There A Path To Indicate That It Was A Place Of Any

Resort. It Seemed To Be A Spot Well Adapted To Privacy. No Sound Was

To Be Heard, Save The Occasional Tap Of A Woodpecker, Or The Whirr Of

The Wings Of A Partridge, As, Startled By The Approach Of The Person,

He Suddenly Rose Into The Air, Or The Songs Of The Robins, Bidding

Farewell, In Sweet And Plaintive Notes, To The Disappearing Sun. The

Female Walked On, Stopping Now And Then To Gather A Wild Flower, Until

She Reached A Spring Which Bubbled At The Foot Of An Immense Beech

Tree. It Ran A Rod Or Two In A Silvery Stream From Its Fountain, And

Then Leaping Down A Miniature Fall Into A Sort Of Natural Basin,

Surrounded With Rocks, Expanded Itself Into A Small Pool, As Clear As

Crystal. Around The Basin Were Gathered Companies Of Such Wood-Flowers

As Love The Water, Conspicuous Among Which, Both For Number And

Beauty, Were The Yellow And Orange Blossoms Of The Elegant "Jewels,"

As Boys Call Them. Advancing To This Little Mirror, The Female Took A

Seat On One Of The Rocks, On The Edge Of The Water, And Bending Over,

Appeared To Contemplate, With No Little Satisfaction, What She Beheld

There; And To Tell The Truth, It Was A Pretty Face, And Justified Some

Vanity. Black Hair And Hazel Eyes, Red Lips And Blooming Cheeks, And A

Well-Formed Person, Composed