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

Heart Of Philip Joy Upon Being Liberated

In The Morning By The Order Which, While It Opened His Prison Door,

Exonerated Him From No Other Part Of His Sentence, Was To See

Prudence; But His Late Experience Of The Wiles Of Spikeman, Although

He Could Think Of No Motive, For His Hostility, Had Taught Him

Caution, And He Determined To Advance Warily To Gratify His Wishes.

  

 

The Occupation Of Philip Was That Of A Blacksmith And Armorer, In

Which Capacities He Had Been Of Some Utility To The Colony. Between

Whiles, Also, Whenever Any Desperate Service Was Required In Order To

Strike Terror Into The Savages, He Had Been Employed In His Military

Character, And Always With Credit To Himself. In Consequence Of His

Skill In His Handicraft And Bravery, He Had At First Been A Man Of No

Little Consideration, But As The Population Of The Settlement

Increased, And Fears Of The Indians Diminished, And Blacksmiths And

Armorers Became More Numerous, The Importance Of The Stout Soldier

Gradually Waned. To This Result Contributed, In No Small Degree, The

Fact That He Had Never Joined The Congregation, And Sometimes Indulged

In A Freedom Of Speech On Interdicted Topics, Which Was Unpalatable To

Those Around Him. Hence It Happened That Slight Offences, Which Were

At First Overlooked In Consideration Of His Usefulness, Were No Longer

Passed By When That Usefulness Was No Longer Prized, And There Were

Even Some Who Were Disposed To Visit Him With Punishment For

Transgressions Of The Kind, Of Years Previous. Spikeman, Who By His

Wealth And Cunning, Had Lately Succeeded In Getting Himself For The

First Time Elevated To The Dignity Of An Assistant, Had Always

Appeared To Be A Friend, And Indeed Had Truly Been So, Until He Sought

To Pluck The Apple Of Discord, The Too Fascinating Prudence, Out Of

The Soldier's Hand. So Deep Was The Impression Of The Assistant's

Good-Will To Him, And So Long Had He Been In The Habit Of Regarding

The Magistrate As A Patron, That Without Exactly Disbelieving, He

Found It Difficult To Give Full Credence To The Jailer's

Representations. His Mind Was So Confused That He Hardly Knew What To

Do. He Wanted To See Prudence Before He Departed For The Knight's

Residence, And Yet, With A Vague Dread Of Spikeman's Power For

Mischief, Wished To Avoid Him.

 

  

Meditating Upon These Embarrassments, Philip Mechanically Took His Way

In The Direction Of The Assistant's House, Unconsciously Obeying The

Hope That Some Kind Chance Would Enable Him To See His Mistress

Without Being Discovered. With This View, And As If Believing That She

Would Be Able To See Through A Disguise Impenetrable To Others, And

With Some Sense Of Shame At Having Been Confined In A Dungeon, Philip

Drew His Slouched Hat Over His Eyes, And Muffling His Face In The

Folds Of His Short Cloak, Walked In Front Of The Dwelling, Casting

Frequent Glances At The Windows. It Was In Vain, However; And Fearful

Of Attracting An Attention Which He Desired To Shun, He Started At

Last For The Forest, Through Which He Was Obliged To Pass On His Way

To The Knight's Place. Wearily He Dragged His Steps Along, For The

Confinement He Had Suffered, And The Irons He Had Worn, Had Diminished

His Strength And Chafed His Limbs. Pondering Sadly His Unfortunate

Fate, He Was Slowly Advancing, And Had Only Just Entered The Wood,

When He Was Saluted By A Well-Known Voice, That Made Him Start With A

Joyful Surprise. It Was That Of Prudence, Who Was Following Him. She

Had Seen Him Whom It Would Have Been Difficult To Disguise From Her,

Pass The House, And Had Allowed Him To Suppose Himself Undiscovered,

And Then Pursued, In Order To Enjoy, Undisturbed, A Meeting Which She

Desired As Much As He. She Was So Overjoyed And Confused At Seeing Him

Again, That Somehow She Stumbled As She Came Near, And Would Have

Fallen Had Not Philip Caught Her In His Arms--For Which Benevolent

Deed He Rewarded Himself With A Couple Of Smacks Like The Report Of A

Pistol.

  

 

"Fie, For Shame, Philip," Cried Prudence, All In A Glow, And Looking

Wonderfully, As If She Wanted The Offence Repeated; At Any Rate The

Soldier So Understood It, And Clasping Her Again In His Arms, Refused

To Release Her Till Her Lips Had Paid The Penalty Of Their Sweetness.

"Oh, Fie," Said She, Once More; "What Would Folk Say If They Saw

Thee?"

  

 

"There's Only Birds Or A Chance Deer To See Us," Said Philip, "And It

Can Do Them No Harm To Take A Lesson," And He Attempted To Renew His

Demonstrations Of Affection.

  

 

"Be Quiet Now," Said Prudence, Pushing Him Away. "I Must Soon Hurry

Back, Or I Shall Be Missed, And I Want, First, To Hear All About Thee,

And Then I Have Something To Say On My Part."

 

  

Thus Rebuked, Philip Seated Himself, With The Maiden By His Side, On

The Trunk Of A Fallen Tree, And Narrated The Circumstances Of His

Trial And Condemnation, And The Occurrences At The Prison. Some Tears

Pretty Prudence Let Fall Over Parts Of His Story, While At Others Her

Hazel Eyes Flashed With Indignation, And Upon Its Conclusion She

Disclosed In Turn The Conduct Of Spikeman To Herself. 

 

 

"I Tell Thee All Philip," Said Prudence, "Because Thou Dost Seem To

Doubt About The Wickedness Of This Bad Man, Who Is Trying To Ruin Us

Both." She Stopped, And Hid Her Face In Her Hands.

  

 

Great Was The Rage Of The Soldier At What He Had Heard.

 

  

"By The Head Of King Charles," He Swore, "I Will Drive My Dagger Into

His Black Heart."

  

 

He Rose In Anger, As If About Immediately To Put His Threat Into

Execution, But The Girl Threw Her Arms Around Him And Drew Him Down.

 

  

"That Would Be Certain Death To Thee, Philip," She Said. "We Must Find

Other Means To Punish Him. Besides, I Must Keep Thee Safe To Serve My

Young Mistress."

  

 

"Thou Art Right, Prudence, And I Am Hot And Hasty; But Does Not The

Villain Deserve The Warmest Place In Beelzebub's Dominions Who Would

Harm Thee? Prudence, Thou Shalt Not Remain In His House."

  

 

"That Will I," Replied The Girl. "Why, Who Is To Wait On My Mistress,

And Take Care Of Her But Me? If Mistress Eveline Were To Hear Thy

Speech, She Would Not Be Over Obliged To Thee, Master Philip, For

Wishing Me To Desert Her."

  

 

"You Misunderstand Me, And That Is Not My Desire. But Art Not Afraid

Of The Old Villain?"

 

  

"Me Afraid!" Exclaimed Prudence, Contemptuously, Curling Her Lips; "I

Am Not Half As Much Afraid Of Him As I Am Of Thee." And As She Uttered

The Words, She Drew Herself A Little Back From Him On The Log Where

They Sat. 

 

 

"But Tell Me, My Brave Robin Red-Breast," Said Philip, Casting A Look

At The Gay Cloak Which She Had Thrown Around Her Person, And Not

Seeming To Pay Much Regard To The Latter Part Of Her Answer, "How Am I

To Serve Mistress Eveline?"

  

 

"O, I Know Not, Yet I Dare Say We Shall Be Able To Turn Thee To Some

Good Purpose; Men Are Sometimes So Useful!"

 

  

"I Will Recollect Thy Speech," Said The Soldier, Laughing, "And

Promise To Teach Thee, On A Future Occasion, How Maidens Also May Be

Useful. But Hast Never A Message From Mistress Eveline To Master

Arundel, Should I Chance To See Him, For He Is Often At The Place Of

The Knight Of The Golden Melice, And It Is My Purpose To Go Thither

To-Day?"

 

 

 "Young Ladies Affect Not To Send Messages To Thy Over Bold Sex," Said

Prudence, Tossing Her Head, "But An' Thou Dost See The Gentleman, Thou

Mayest Tell Him, As From Me, That She Is Well, And Desires His

Prosperity." 

 

 

"A Cold Message, Truly, And It Is Well The Weather Is Warm, Else Would

Poor Master Arundel Be In Danger Of Being Frozen Into An Icicle."

 

  

"A Hundred Such Messages Would Not, I Fear, Cool Thy Hot Blood; But

Master Miles Is Gentle Born, And Less Presumptuous Than Thou; Thou

Mayest Therefore Say, Rather Than Hurt His Feelings, That My Mistress

Would Have No Objection To Seeing Him."

  

 

"What A Buttermilk Kind Of A Message Is That!" Said The Soldier. Dost

Think That A Man Of Any Spirit Is Going To Be Satisfied With An Errand

That Runs Like A Stream Of Cold Water Down One's Back? Come, Prudence,

Perk Thy Red Lips Into More Reasonable And Comforting Words."

 

 

"Thou Art Thyself Unreasonable, Philip. Dost Suppose It Becomes A

Young Woman To Let Her Gallant Know All She Thinks About Him? He Ought

To Be Ravished To Believe That She Does Not Hate Him Like The Rest Of

Them Who Wear Beards; At Any Rate, Thou Wilt Get Nothing Else From

Me."

  

 

"I Must Perforce, Then, Be Content," Said Philip, "Since It May Not Be

Otherwise; And The Less Unwillingly Because Having Had Some Experience

In The Nature Of Women, I Know They Mean More Than They Say. So I Will

Even Translate Thy Words Into Thy Mistress' Intention, And Say She Is

Dying Of Melancholy Till She Sees Him."

  

 

"Thou Wilt Be A False Varlet An' Thou Dost, And I Will Never Trust

Thee With Message More. Such Leasing Will Only Harm Thee, For Master

Miles Knows There Is Not In America Nor In Dear Old Devonshire A

Modester Or Properer Young Lady. O Dear, How Glad I Should Be Just To

Step Into The Grand Cathedral In Sweet Exeter, And See The Brave

Knights Who Died So Long Ago All Lying Cross-Legged, So Decent On

Their Marble Tombs By The Sides Of Their Ladies."

 

 

"Take Care, My Little Puritan," Said Philip, "This Is No Fitting

Country For Such Talk. The Reverend Elders Have Long Ears, And For

Aught I Know, There May Be One In The Tree Overhead Listening."

  

 

Prudence Jumped Hastily From Her Seat, And Cast A Frightened Glance At

These Words Into The Tree, While Philip Burst Into A Laugh. 

 

 

"Why, How You Scared Me," Said The Girl, Recovering From Her

Trepidation. "This Is The Way You Treat Me, You Vile Man, For Putting

Myself To All This Trouble On Your Account. But I Would Have You To

Know That I Am No More A Puritan, Philip Joy, Than Thyself, If I Do

Wear A Close-Fitting Cap, Which Is None Of The Most Becoming Either.

If I Do Give Into Their Ways, It Is For The Sake Of My Mistress, Whom

No Geneva Cloak, Nor Bishop's Sleeves, For That Matter, Shall Make Me

Desert."

  

 

"Bravo, Bravissimo, As The Outlandish Fellows Say," Exclaimed The

Soldier; "Thou Art Of The Genuine Game Breed, Prudence, And Were It

Not That Thy Pretty Person Might Come To Harm, I Would Desire No

Better Front Rank Man Than Thee. But This Is A Dangerous Litany, And I

Beseech Thee, Dear Prudence, To Remember How Thou Art Named."

  

 

He Said This In A Tone Of Emotion, Which, If Anything Were Wanting,

Would Have Been Sufficient To Convince The Girl Of The Interest He

Felt For Her; But She Needed No Such Supplementary Proof. It Had The

Effect, However, Of Making The Conversation Assume A More Serious

Aspect, And The Girl More Gravely Replied:

  

 

"I Will Be Careful, Philip, For My Mistress' Sake And Mine Own, And--"

 

 

"And For Mine, Too," Interrupted The Soldier.

  

 

"And For The Sake Of All Them," Continued Prudence, "Who Find Anything

In Me To Take An Interest In. O, Philip, I Tremble Lest You Should Do

Or Say Something Again That These Dreadful Solemn Folk, Who Look Sour

Enough To Curdle Milk, And Hate You Because You Laugh, May Get Hold Of

To Do You An Injury. O, Philip, Pray Be Prudent About Laughing."

 

  

"Nay, Prudence," Said He, Drawing His Illustration From What He

Happened To See At The Moment, "You Might As Well Bid Yon Squirrel Not

To Jump From Bough To Bough. It Is Our Nature, And You Cannot Change A

Squirrel Into An Owl, Or A Man Into A Block. But," He Continued,

Taking Her Hand, "I Have Not Told Thee All. I Know Not When I Shall

See Thee Again, For I Am A Banished Man."

  

 

"Banished!" Repeated Prudence, Turning Pale; "I Thought They Had

Already Wronged Thee Enough For A Few Innocent Words--And Now

Banished! What Will Become Of Thee, Philip, And Of Me?"

  

 

"Never Fear, Sweetheart; We Will Turn Their Flank Yet. I Have Been

Thinking, As I Came Wandering Along, That This Master Spikeman, Who

Keeps Mistress Eveline As A Sort Of Prisoner On Parole, Has An Object

In Getting Me Out Of His Way, So As Better To Carry On His Wicked

Plans. My Jealous Pate At First Could Think Only Of Thee; But Now I

Begin To Fancy He May Have Designs Upon Pretty Mistress Eveline As

Well As Upon Thyself. Nay, Never Bite Your Sweet Lips Till They Bleed,

Nor Dart The Sparks Out Of Thine Eyes, Or You May Singe My Doublet, I

Do Suspect This From The Equal