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Read books online » Fiction » The Knight Of The Golden Melice by John Turvill Adams (web based ebook reader txt) 📖

Book online «The Knight Of The Golden Melice by John Turvill Adams (web based ebook reader txt) 📖». Author John Turvill Adams



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The Assistant Had Attained His Object. Philip Was In The First Place

To Be Imprisoned And Fined, And Afterwards Banished, And The Field Was

Henceforth To Be Left Free To Himself. With His Rival Out Of The Way,

He Did Not Doubt Of Succeeding With The Girl By Means Of Such

Arguments And Temptations As It Would Be In His Power To Employ. How

He Had Begun By Endeavoring To Use The Very Affection Of Prudence For

Her Lover To Make Her Betray Herself, Has Been Told; But Thus Far Her

Simplicity And Good Fortune Had Been Quite A Match For His Craft. In

The Hope To Obtain Some Advantage For Philip, She Had Granted The

Assistant The Interview Which We Have Just Witnessed, And Wherein He

Disclosed His Character In A Manner He Had Never Done To Her Before.

She Now Understood His Designs Thoroughly, But The Knowledge Was A

Secret Which Her Fears Suggested That She Had Better Lock Up In Her

Own Heart. What Chance Would A Poor Unprotected Girl Have In A Contest

With The Rich And Powerful Assistant? Who Would Take Her Word In

Opposition To His? Spikeman Well Appreciated His Advantage, And

Calculating With Absolute Certainty Upon Her Silence, Was, In

Consequence, The More Audacious.

  

 

When The Spy Of The Assistant Found Him At His Store-House, He Was

Meditating Upon The Approaching Interview With Prudence, The

Contemplation Of Which It Unpleasantly Interrupted. The Prospect Of

The Soldier's Liberation Was Exceeding Disagreeable. It Would

Interfere With, And Perhaps Defeat Plans, Which In Blind Passion He

Hugged To His Heart. But Engrossed By His Unworthy Madness, He Could

Not Then Mature Any Scheme Not Connected With Its Immediate

Gratification. Machinations For The Further Accomplishment Of His

Designs Must Be Postponed For A Calmer Moment. It Came After The

Interruption Occasioned By The Arrival Of His Wife, And Soon His

Active Brain Had Shaped His Ideas Into Definiteness.

 

 

 Accordingly In The Evening, As Soon As It Became So Dark That Features

Were Not Readily Distinguishable In The Streets, The Assistant Took

His Way To The Prison In Which The Soldier Was Confined. It Stood On

The Edge Of The Settlement, And Was A Low, One-Story Building,

Strongly Made Of Unhewn Logs, Within A Few Feet Of Which Was The

Dwelling Of The Jailer, But Little Differing From It In Exterior. In

Those Days A Very Strong Jail Was Not So Important As At Present. If

One Had Committed A Crime So Heinous That He Was Unfit To Live, He Was

Forthwith Put Beyond The Power Of Doing Mischief; But If The Offence

Were Of A Less Atrocious Character, Modes Of Punishment Were Usually

Resorted To Which Did Not Involve The Necessity Of Supporting Him At

Public Charge--Such, For Instance, As Whipping, Cutting Off The Ears,

Slitting The Nose, And Like Improvements Of The Human Form Divine. If

Through Defect Of The Prison, Or From Any Other Cause, The Offender

Escaped, It Was Pretty Certain That He Would Not Make His Appearance

In A Hurry, Lest Some Worse Thing Might Befall Him, And So There Was

One Malcontent The Less, And One Disturber Of The Peace Gone, Even

Though The Ends Of Punishment Were Not Perfectly Attained. 

 

 

Spikeman, On Reaching The House Of The Jailer, Was About To Knock At

The Door, When His Attention Was Arrested By Sounds Which Made Him

Pause. The Weather Being Warm, The Window Was Open, And He Was Able To

Hear Distinctly What Was Said Within. Motives Of Delicacy Or Honor

Weighed Not Much In The Mind Of A Man Like Him, And He Scrupled Not To

Appropriate Any Advantage To Be Derived From Eaves-Dropping.

  

 

"What Made You, Sam Bars, Take All The Ornaments Off Philip But The

Bracelets, Without Saying Anything To Me?" Inquired A Voice, Which

Spikeman Recognized As Belonging To The Jailer's Wife.

  

 

"Why, Margery, To Confess, I Forgot To Tell You," Answered Her

Husband; "But," Added He, Laughing, "I Had No Fear On Thy Account, For

Thou Art A Match For A Man Any Day."

 

  

"When I Took Him In His Supper," Said The Woman, "There Was Poor

Philip Rubbing His Ankles To Get The Swelling Out. Truly I Pitied Him,

For He Is A Proper Young Man."

  

 

"Oh! Goody, The Women Always Pity Proper Young Men. I Warrant Me Now

If It Had Been A Grizzled Old Wolf Like Me, You Would Not Have Thought

So Much Of His Ankles."

  

 

"Say Not So, Sam," Replied The Woman, Affectionately, "Nor Liken

Thyself To A Wolf. O, How They Used To Howl Every Night When We First

Came To This Wilderness; But The Lord Protected His People. I Dare Say

Now, It Was Thy Kind Heart Made Thee Take Off The Irons."

 

  

"That It Was Not, Wife. They Were Put On By Order Of One I Am Bound To

Obey; Nor Durst I Take Them Off But By Command Of A Higher Authority."

  

 

"Why Do You Talk As Though You Were Giving Me Riddles To Guess? Am I

Not Bone Of Thy Bone?"

 

  

"A Big Heap Of Bones We Make Together," Muttered Sam, Glancing At The

Large Frame Of His Wife, Not Much Excelled By His Own, "But She's A

Good Soul, Amiss Only In Her Tongue At Whiles; Howbeit, Saith Not

Paul, It Is An Unruly Member? Well, Margery, An Thou Must Know, It Was

By Order Of The Governor's Own Mouth To Me They Were Taken Off, And

What Is More, I Am To Let Philip Go Free In The Morning."

 

  

"Bless His Sweet Face," Cried The Woman, "I Always Said The Worshipful

Governor Was The Sweetest; And Virtuousest And Excellentest Man In The

Whole Country."

  

 

"There Be Them Among The Elders And Magistrates Who Be Of A Different

Opinion. Beshrew Me! (May The Lord Forgive Me," He Added, Looking

Round In Alarm. "I Hope No One Hears Me,) But, According To My

Thinking, It Is Only Because Master Winthrop Asks For No Pay, And

Spends So Much Out Of His Own Purse For Other Folk, That They Choose

Him Governor."

  

 

"What Can Anybody Have Against So Sweet-Tempered And Liberal A

Gentleman?" Inquired Margery.

 

  

"Well, Then, The Elders Complain That He Is Not So Zealous, Even Unto

Slaying, As Becomes A Leader Of The Lord's Host, Which He Is, Like

Moses And Joshua; And Some Of The Deputies Pretend That He Takes Too

Much State On Him, And Means To Make Himself A King, Or Least-Wise, A

Lord."

  

 

"And I Trow, Good Man, I Know No Reason Why, When The Commonwealth, As

They Call It, Gets Big Enough, We Should Not Have A King As Well As

The Folk On The Other Side Of The Water. It Was Always A Pleasure To

See His Majesty In The Streets Of London, With The Grand Lords And

Ladies All In Their Silks And Satins, And Jewels And Feathers. It Will

Be Long, I Am Afraid," Sighed The Good Woman, "Before We Shall See

Such Fine Sights In These Woods."

  

 

"Hush, Goody," Said Sam, "Take Care Your Tongue Do Not Get You Into

Trouble. Speak Lower, An You Will Talk About Things You Know Nothing

About. You Love Kings And Lords Better Than Some Folk," He Concluded,

With A Laugh.

  

 

"Take Care Of Your Own Tongue, Sam Bars; I Warrant You Mine Will Take

Care Of Itself. But Wherefore Should I Not Love The King? Is It Not

Written--Touch Not Mine Anointed, And Do My Prophets No Harm? And I

Will Let You Know, Sam Bars? That I Will Say What I Please About Him,

God Bless Him! Marry, Come Up, A Fine Time Of Day Truly, If A Woman

May Not Speak Her Mind! I Should Like To See The Man Or Woman Either,

Forsooth, To Stop Me. My Tongue And Ten Commandments (Stretching Out

Her Fingers) Know How To Take Care Of One Another, I Can Tell You. My

Tongue Get Me Into Trouble! O, Sam, Why Do You Aggravate Me So? Me,

The Quietest And Peaceablest And Silentest Wife In The World! Why Dost

Not Speak? Art As Dumb As The Bench Your Heavy Carcass Almost Breaks

Down? Speak, I Say, Sam, Speak, Or I Shall Go Crazy."

 

 

 But Her Husband, Whom Long Experience Had Taught The Best Mode Of

Weathering Such Storms, Only Shook His Head In Silence, Until The Good

Woman, After A Variety Of Ejaculations And Expletives, Finding That

She Made No More Impression On Him Than Children's Pop-Guns On A

Sand-Bank, Concluded To Cool Down, When She Asked What The Governor

Said To Him.

  

 

Sam, Glad That The Current Had Taken Another Direction, Answered

Readily "A Mountain Of Questions About Philip. And He Wanted To Know

Why I Put So Many Irons On Him--How He Found It Out, The Lord Only

Knows, Unless"--Here Bars Sunk His Voice, So That The Words Were

Inaudible To The Listener, And He Lost A Sentence Or Two--"And When He

Dismissed Me, He Ordered That I Should Never Do It Again Without His

Consent, And Then Sent Me Into The Kitchen, Where I Had A Pottle Of

Sack. 

 

 

"A Whole Pottle Of Sack!" Exclaimed His Wife, In A Tone Of

Disappointment; "And Here Was I At Home, As Dry In This Outlandish Hot

Weather As The Children Of Israel At Rephidim, When They Did Chide

Moses Because There Was No Water To Drink." "You Might Have Brought

Your Own Margery A Taste," She Added, Reproachfully.

  

 

"Did I Say I Had A Whole Pottle? If I Did, I Spoke Only In A Figure,

As One May Say; For There Was Ephraim Pike To Help Me Make Away With

It, And You Know His Gullet Is Like A London Sewer. Love Your Bright

Eyes, Margery, A Quart Of Sack Stands No More Chance With Ephraim,

When His Nose Once Gets Scent Of The Liquor, Or His Lips Touch The

Edge Of The Mug, Than A Mouse Among A Dozen Cats."

  

 

"Or Than It Has With You, Sam. But Men Be All Alike; They Be Always

Guzzling; They Never Think Of Their Poor Wives. Here Am I, Margery

Bars, Thine Own Help-Meet, Never Away From Home; Never Running About

Streets And Going To Governor's Houses To Swill Sack; Never"--But Here

The Voice Of The Discontented Woman, Who, In Her Excitement, Had Risen

From Her Seat And Walked Away, Was Lost In The Pantry, Or Rather

Subdued Into An Inarticulate Grumble; And Spikeman, After Waiting

Awhile, And Finding It Improbable That The Conversation Would Be

Resumed, Knocked In A Peculiar Manner On The Door, Which Was Almost

Immediately Opened By Bars Himself.

  

 

"Hath The Order For The Soldier's Release Arrived From The Governor?"

Inquired The Assistant.

 

  

"It Hath, Worshipful Sir; He Is To Be Dismissed In The Morning,"

Answer The Jailer.

 

  

"Hast Said Anything About It To Joy, As I Requested Thee Not?"

  

 

"He Knows No More Concerning It Than The Logs Of His Dungeon," Said

Bars.

  

 

"Then Get The Keys, And Means To Strike A Light."

  

 

Without Replying, As One Accustomed To Obey Such Orders, The Jailer

Provided Himself In A Few Moments With The Articles Required. He

Placed An Unlighted Candle In The Lantern, And The Two Proceeded To

The Door Of The Jail.

 

  

"He Is Your Only Prisoner, I Believe?" Said Spikeman.

  

 

"None Other," Answered Bars.

  

 

"Remain Outside By The Door. I Would Speak A Moment With Him."

  

 

The Jailer, In Silence, Put One Key Into The Lock And Opened The Door,

And Gave Another To Spikeman, And Then Stationed Himself As Directed,

Outside.

 

  

Spikeman Entered, And Closed The Door After Him; Then Striking A

Light, Advanced Like One Well Acquainted With The Place. The Space

Wherein He Found Himself Was An Entry Or Passage-Way, Some Four Feet

Wide, Running Along The Four Sides Of The Prison, And Enclosing The

Cells In The Middle, The Security Of The Prisoners Was Greatly

Promoted By This Arrangement, Two Walls Being Necessary To Be Broken

In Order To Effect Escape, And Communication With Persons Without

Being Thus Made More Difficult.

 

  

The Assistant Advanced, Until He Came To The Door Of A Cell Which Was

Closed, And Which He Knew From That Circumstance Was Occupied, And

Unlocking It, Stepped Within. He Stopped, And Throwing Around The

Light From The Lantern, Beheld The Form Of The Soldier Extended On

Some Straw Spread In A Corner, And Apparently Asleep. Philip Was

Indeed In A Profound Slumber. Relieved From The Painful Incumbrance Of

The Irons Which Had Prevented His Lying Down, And Kept Him

Consequently In A Constrained Posture, He Was Enjoying A Luxury Hard

To Be Realized Except By One In A Condition As Wretched As His Own.

Spikeman Threw The Light Full Upon His Face, But It Failed To Awaken

Him. He Only Smiled, And Muttering Something Indistinctly, Turned Upon

His Pallet, The Irons On His Wrists Clanking As He Moved. The

Assistant Stood Looking At Him Awhile, And Then Pronounced His Name,

At First In A Low Tone, And Afterwards Louder. Even This Did Not

Banish Sleep, And Spikeman Was Obliged To Shake Him By The Shoulder

Before He Could Be Aroused. It Was Then The

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