"If it weren"t true, most arrogant," I answered. "Come, I"ll tell you; it"s too soon for bed and too late to go abroad. Jonah, bring us some wine, and if it be good, you shall be forgiven for admitting Master Tate."
Jonah went off and presently returned with a bottle, which we drank, while I, with the candour I had promised, told my friend of Betty Nasroth and her prophecy. He heard me with an attention which belied the contempt he a.s.serted; I have noticed that men pay heed to these things however much they laugh at them. At the end, growing excited not only with the wine but with the fumes of life which had been mounting into my young brain all the day, I leapt up, crying aloud:
"And isn"t it true? Shan"t I know what he hides? Shan"t I drink of his cup? For isn"t it true? Don"t I already, to my infinite misery, love where he loves?" For the picture of Nell had come suddenly across me in renewed strength and sweetness; when I had spoken I dropped again into my chair and laid my head down on my arms.
Silence followed; Darrell had no words of consolation for my woes and left my love-lorn cry unheeded; presently then (for neglected sorrows do not thrive) I looked furtively at him between the fingers of my hand. He sat moody, thoughtful, and frowning. I raised my head and met his eyes.
He leant across the table, saying in a sneering tone, "A fine witch, on my life! You should know what he hides?"
"Aye."
"And drink of his cup?"
"Aye, so she said."
He sat sunk in troubled thought, but I, being all this night torn to and fro by changing and warring moods, sprang up again and cried in boisterous scorn, "What, you believe these fables? Does G.o.d reveal hidden things to old crones? I thought you at Court were not the fools of such fancies! Aren"t they fitter for rustic churls, Mr Darrell? G.o.d save us, do we live in the days of King James?"
He answered me shortly and sternly, as though I had spoken of things not to be named lightly.
"It is devil"s work, all of it."
"Then the devil is busier than he seems, even after a night at Court," I said. "But be it whose work it will, I"ll do it. I"ll find what he hides. I"ll drink of his cup. Come, you"re glum! Drink, friend Darrell!
Darrell, what"s in his cup, what does he hide? Darrell, what does the King hide?"
I had caught him by the shoulder and was staring in his face. I was all aglow, and my eyes, no doubt, shone bright with excitement and the exhilaration of the wine. The look of me, or the hour of the night, or the working of his own superst.i.tion, got hold of him, for he sprang up, crying madly:
"My G.o.d, do you know?" and glared into my face as though I had been the very devil of whom I spoke.
We stood thus for a full minute. But I grew cool before my companion, wonder working the change in me sooner than confusion could in him. For my random ravings had most marvellously struck on something more than my sober speculations could discern. The man before me was mad--or he had a secret. And friend Darrell was no madman.
"Do I know?" I asked. "Do I know what? What could I, Simon Dale, know?
What in Heaven"s name is there to know?" And I smiled cunningly, as though I sought to hide knowledge by a parade of ignorance.
"Nothing, nothing," he muttered uneasily. "The wine"s got into my head."
"Yet you"ve drunk but two gla.s.ses; I had the rest," said I.
"That d.a.m.ned Ranter has upset me," he growled. "That, and the talk of your cursed witch."
"Can Ranters and witches make secrets where there are none?" said I with a laugh.
"They can make fools think there are secrets where there are none," said he rudely.
"And other fools ask if they"re known," I retorted, but with a laugh; and I added, "I"m not for a quarrel, secret or no secret, so if that"s your purpose in sitting the night through, to bed with you, my friend."
Whether from prudence, or whether my good humour rebuked his temper, he grew more gentle; he looked at me kindly enough and sighed, as he said:
"I was to be your guide in London, Simon; but you take your own path."
"The path you shewed me was closed in my face," said I, "and I took the first that was opened to me."
"By the Duke of Monmouth?"
"Yes--or by another, if it had chanced to be another."
"But why take any, Simon?" he urged persuasively. "Why not live in peace and leave these great folk alone?"
"With all my heart," I cried. "Is it a bargain? Whither shall we fly from the turmoil?"
"We!" he exclaimed with a start.
"Aren"t you sick of the same disease? Isn"t the same medicine best for you? Come, shall we both go to-morrow to Hatchstead--a pretty village, Mr Darrell--and let the great folk go alone to Dover?"
"You know I cannot. I serve my Lord Arlington."
"And I the Duke of Monmouth."
"But my Lord is the King"s servant."
"And his Grace the King"s son."
"Oh, if you"re obstinate----" he began, frowning.
"As fate, as prophecy, as witch, as Ranter, as devil, or as yourself!" I said, laughing and throwing myself into a chair as he rose and moved towards the door.
"No good will come of it to you," he said, pa.s.sing me on his way.
"What loyal servant looks to make a profit of his service?" I asked, smiling.
"I wish you could be warned."
"I"m warned, but not turned, Darrell. Come, we part friends?"
"Why, yes, we are friends," he answered, but with a touch of hesitation.
"Saving our duty to the King?"
"If need should come for that reservation, yes," said he gravely.
"And saving," said I, "the liberties of the Kingdom and the safety of the Reformed Religion--if need should come for these reservations, Mr Darrell," and I laughed to see the frown gather again on his brow. But he made no reply, being unable to trust his self-control or answer my light banter in its own kind. He left me with no more than a shake of his head and a wave of his hand; and although we parted thus in amity and with no feelings save of kindness for one another, I knew that henceforth there must be a difference in our relations; the days of confidence were gone.
The recognition of my loss weighed little with me. The diffidence born of inexperience and of strangeness to London and the Court was wearing away; the desire for another"s arm to lean on and another"s eyes to see with gave way before a young man"s pride in his own arm"s strength and the keenness of his own vision. There was sport afoot; aye, for me in those days all things were sport, even the high disputes of Churches or of Kingdoms. We look at the world through our own gla.s.ses; little as it recks of us, it is to us material and opportunity; there in the dead of night I wove a dream wherein the part of hero was played by Simon Dale, with Kings and Dukes to bow him on and off the stage and Christendom to make an audience. These dream-doings are brave things: I pity the man who performs none of them; for in them you may achieve without labour, enjoy without expense, triumph without cruelty, aye, and sin mightily and grandly with never a reckoning for it. Yet do not be a mean villain even in your dreaming, for that sticks to you when you awake.
I had supposed myself alone to be out of bed and Jonah Wall to have slunk off in fear of my anger. But now my meditations were interrupted by his entrance. He crept up to me in an uneasy fashion, but seemed to take courage when I did not break into abuse, but asked him mildly why he had not sought rest and what he wanted with me. His first answer was to implore me to protect him from Mr Darrell"s wrath; through Phineas Tate, he told me timidly, he had found grace, and he could deny him nothing; yet, if I bade him, he would not admit him again.
"Let him come," said I carelessly. "Besides, we shall not be long here.
For you and I are going on a journey, Jonah."
"A journey, sir?"