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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of John Enderby, by Gilbert Parker
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: John Enderby
+
+Author: Gilbert Parker
+
+Release Date: October 18, 2006 [EBook #6254]
+Last Updated: August 28, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN ENDERBY ***
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+JOHN ENDERBY
+
+By Gilbert Parker
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+Of all the good men that Lincolnshire gave to England to make her proud,
+strong and handsome, none was stronger, prouder and more handsome than
+John Enderby, whom King Charles made a knight against his will.
+
+“Your gracious Majesty,” said John Enderby, when the King was come
+to Boston town on the business of draining the Holland fen and other
+matters more important and more secret, “the honour your Majesty would
+confer is well beyond a poor man like myself, for all Lincolnshire knows
+that I am driven to many shifts to keep myself above water. Times have
+been hard these many years, and, craving your Majesty’s pardon, our
+taxes have been heavy.”
+
+“Do you refuse knighthood of his Majesty?” asked Lord Rippingdale, with
+a sneer, patting the neck of his black stallion with a gloved hand.
+
+“The King may command my life, my Lord Rippingdale,” was Enderby’s
+reply, “he may take me, body and bones and blood, for his service, but
+my poor name must remain as it is when his Majesty demands a price for
+honouring it.”
+
+“Treason,” said Lord Rippingdale just so much above his breath as the
+King might hear.
+
+“This in our presence!” said the King, tapping his foot upon the ground,
+his brows contracting, and the narrow dignity of the divine right
+lifting his nostrils scornfully.
+
+“No treason, may it please your Majesty,” said Enderby, “and it were
+better to speak boldly to the King’s face than to be disloyal behind
+his back. My estates will not bear the tax which the patent of this
+knighthood involves. I can serve the country no better as Sir John
+Enderby than as plain John Enderby, and I can serve my children best by
+shepherding my shattered fortunes for their sakes.”
+
+For a moment Charles seemed thoughtful, as though Enderby’s reasons
+appealed to him, but Lord Rippingdale had now the chance which for ten
+years he had invited, and he would not let it pass.
+
+“The honour which his Majesty offers, my good Lincolnshire squire, is
+more to your children than the few loaves and fishes which you might
+leave them. We all know how miserly John Enderby has grown.”
+
+Lord Rippingdale had touched the tenderest spot in the King’s mind. His
+vanity was no less than his impecuniosity, and this was the third time
+in one day he had been defeated in his efforts to confer an honour, and
+exact a price beyond all reason for that honour. The gentlemen he had
+sought had found business elsewhere, and were not to be seen when his
+messengers called at their estates. It was not the King’s way to give
+anything for nothing. Some of these gentlemen had been benefited by the
+draining of the Holland fens, which the King had undertaken, reserving
+a stout portion of the land for himself; but John Enderby benefited
+nothing, for his estates lay further north, and near the sea, not far
+from the town of Mablethorpe. He had paid all the taxes which the King
+had levied and had not murmured beyond his own threshold.
+
+He spoke his mind with candour, and to him the King was still a man to
+whom the truth was to be told with directness, which was the highest
+honour one man might show another.
+
+“Rank treason!” repeated Lord Rippingdale, loudly. “Enderby has been in
+bad company, your Majesty. If you are not wholly with the King, you
+are against him. ‘He that is not with me is against me, and he that
+gathereth not with me scattereth abroad.’”
+
+A sudden anger seized the King, and turning, he set foot in the stirrup,
+muttering something to himself, which boded no good for John Enderby. A
+gentleman held the stirrup while he mounted, and, with Lord Rippingdale
+beside him in the saddle, he turned and spoke to Enderby. Self-will and
+resentment were in his tone. “Knight of Enderby we have made you,” he
+said, “and Knight of Enderby you shall remain. Look to it that you pay
+the fees for the accolade.”
+
+“Your Majesty,” said Enderby, reaching out his hand in protest, “I will
+not have this greatness you would thrust upon me. Did your Majesty need,
+and speak to me as one gentleman to another in his need, then would I
+part with the last inch of my land; but to barter my estate for a gift
+that I have no heart nor use for--your Majesty, I cannot do it.”
+
+The hand of the King twisted in his bridle-rein, and his body stiffened
+in anger.
+
+“See to it, my Lord Rippingdale,” he said, “that our knight here pays to
+the last penny for the courtesy of the accolade. You shall levy upon his
+estate.”
+
+“We are both gentlemen, your Majesty, and my rights within the law are
+no less than your Majesty’s,” said Enderby stoutly.
+
+“The gentleman forgets that the King is the fountain of all law,” said
+Lord Rippingdale obliquely to the King.
+
+“We will make one new statute for this stubborn knight,” said Charles;
+“even a writ of outlawry. His estates shall be confiscate to the Crown.
+Go seek a King and country better suited to your tastes, our rebel
+Knight of Enderby.”
+
+“I am still an Enderby of Enderby, and a man of Lincolnshire, your
+Majesty,” answered the squire, as the King rode towards Boston church,
+where presently he should pray after this fashion with his subjects
+there assembled:
+
+   “Most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy favour to behold our most
+   gracious sovereign King Charles. Endue him plenteously with
+   Heavenly gifts; grant him in health and wealth long to live;
+   strengthen him that he may vanquish and overcome all his enemies;
+   and, finally, after this life, he may attain everlasting joy and
+   felicity.”
+
+With a heavy heart Enderby turned homewards; that is, towards
+Mablethorpe upon the coast, which lies between Saltfleet Haven and
+Skegness, two ports that are places of mark in the history of the
+kingdom, as all the world knows.
+
+He had never been so vexed in his life. It was not so much anger against
+the King, for he had great reverence for the monarchy of England;
+but against Lord Rippingdale his mind was violent. Years before, in a
+quarrel between the Earl of Lindsey and Lord Rippingdale, upon a public
+matter which Parliament settled afterwards, he had sided with the Earl
+of Lindsey. The two Earls had been reconciled afterwards, but Lord
+Rippingdale had never forgiven Enderby.
+
+In Enderby’s brain ideas worked somewhat heavily; but to-day his
+slumberous strength was infused with a spirit of action and the warmth
+of a pervasive idea. There was no darkness in his thoughts, but his
+pulse beat heavily and he could hear the veins throbbing under his ear
+impetuously. Once or twice as he rode on in the declining afternoon he
+muttered to himself. Now it was: “My Lord Rippingdale, indeed!” or “Not
+even for a King!” or “Sir John Enderby, forsooth! Sir John Enderby,
+forsooth!” Once again he spoke, reining in his horse beside a tall cross
+at four corners, near Stickford by the East Fen. Taking off his hat he
+prayed:
+
+“Thou just God, do Thou judge between my King and myself. Thou knowest
+that I have striven as an honest gentleman to do right before all men.
+When I have seen my sin, oh, Lord, I have repented! Now I have come upon
+perilous times, the gins are set for my feet. Oh, Lord, establish me in
+true strength! Not for my sake do I ask that Thou wilt be with me and
+Thy wisdom comfort me, but for the sake of my good children. Wilt Thou
+spare my life in these troubles until they be well formed; till the lad
+have the bones of a man, and the girl the wise thought of a woman--for
+she hath no mother to shield and teach her. And if this be a wrong
+prayer, my God, forgive it: for I am but a blundering squire, whose
+tongue tells lamely what his heart feels.”
+
+His head was bowed over his horse’s neck, his face turned to the cross,
+his eyes were shut, and he did not notice the strange and grotesque
+figure that suddenly appeared from among the low bushes by the fen near
+by.
+
+It was an odd creature perched upon stilts; one of those persons called
+the stilt-walkers. They were no friends of the King, nor of the Earl of
+Lindsey, nor of my Lord Rippingdale, for the draining of these fens
+took from them their means of living. They were messengers, postmen and
+carriers across the wide stretch of country from Spilsby, even down to
+the river Witham, and from Boston Deep down to Market Deeping and over
+to the sea. Since these fens were drained one might travel from Market
+Deeping to the Wolds without wetting a foot.
+
+“Aw’ll trooble thee a moment, maister,” said the peasant. “A
+stilt-walker beant nowt i’ the woorld. Howsome’er, aw’ve a worrd to
+speak i’ thy ear.”
+
+Enderby reined in his horse, and with a nod of complaisance (for he was
+a man ever kind to the poor, and patient with those who fared ill in the
+world) he waited for the other to speak.
+
+“Thoo’rt the great Enderby of Enderby, maister,” said the peasant,
+ducking his head and then putting on his cap; “aw’ve known thee sin tha
+wast no bigger nor a bit grass’opper i’ the field. Wilt tha ride long,
+Sir John Enderby, and aw’ll walk aside thee, ma grey nag with thy
+sorrel.” He glanced down humorously at his own long wooden legs.
+
+Enderby turned his horse round and proceeded on his way slowly, the old
+man striding along beside him like a stork.
+
+“Why do you dub me Knight?” he asked, his eyes searching the face of the
+old man.
+
+“Why shouldna aw call thee Knight if the King calls thee Knight? It is
+the dooty of a common man to call thee Sir John, and tak off his hat at
+saying o’ it.” His hat came off, and he nodded in such an odd way that
+Enderby burst out into a good honest laugh. “Dooth tha rememba little
+Tom Dowsby that went hoonting wi’ thee when tha wert not yet come to
+age?” continued the stilt-walker. “Doost tha rememba when, for a jest,
+thee and me stopped the lord bishop, tha own uncle, in the highway at
+midnight, and took his poorse from him, and the rich gold chain from his
+neck? And doost tha rememba that tha would have his apron too, for tha
+said that if it kept a bishop clean, wouldna it keep highwaymen clean,
+whose work was not so clean as a bishop’s? Sir John Enderby, aw loove
+thee better than the King, an’ aw loove thee better than my Lord
+Rippin’dale-ay, theere’s a sour heart in a goodly body!”
+
+John Enderby reined up his horse and looked the stilt-walker in the
+face.
+
+“Are you little Tom Dowsby?” exclaimed he. “Are you that scamp?” He
+laughed all at once as though he had not a trouble in the world. “And do
+you keep up your evil practices? Do you still waylay bishops?”
+
+“If aw confessed to Heaven or man, aw would confess to thee, Sir John
+Enderby; but aw’ll confess nowt.”
+
+“And how know you that I am Sir John Enderby?”
+
+“Even in Sleaford town aw kem to know it. Aw stood no further from
+his Majesty and Lord Rippin’dale than aw stand from you, when the pair
+talked by the Great Boar inn. Where doos tha sleep to-night?”
+
+“At Spilsby.”
+
+“To-night the King sleeps at Sutterby on the Wolds. ‘Tis well for thee
+tha doost not bide wi’ his Majesty. Theer, aw’ve done thee a service.”
+
+“What service have you done me?”
+
+“Aw’ve told thee that tha moost sleep by Spilsby when the King sleeps at
+Sutterby. Fare-thee-well, maister.”
+
+Doffing his cap once more, the stilt-walker suddenly stopped, and,
+turning aside, made his way with an almost incredible swiftness across
+the fen, taking the ditches with huge grotesque strides. Enderby looked
+back and watched him for a moment curiously. Suddenly the man’s words
+began to repeat themselves in Enderby’s head: “To-night the King sleeps
+at Sutterby on the Wolds. ‘Tis well for thee tha doost not bide wi’ his
+Majesty.” Presently a dozen vague ideas began to take form. The man had
+come to warn him not to join the King at Sutterby.
+
+There was some plot against Charles! These stiltwalkers were tools in
+the hands of the King’s foes, who were growing more powerful every day.
+He would sleep to-night, not at Spilsby, but at Sutterby. He was a loyal
+subject; no harm that he could prevent should come to the King.
+
+Before you come to Sutterby on the Wolds, as you travel north to the
+fenland, there is a combe through which the highway passes, and a stream
+which has on one side many rocks and boulders, and on the other a sort
+of hedge of trees and shrubs. It was here that the enemies of the King,
+that is, some stilt-walkers, with two dishonourable gentlemen who had
+suffered from the King’s oppressions, placed themselves to way lay his
+Majesty. Lord Rippingdale had published it abroad that the King’s route
+was towards Horncastle, but at Stickney by the fens the royal party
+separated, most of the company passing on to Horncastle, while Charles,
+Lord Rippingdale and two other cavaliers proceeded on a secret visit to
+a gentleman at Louth.
+
+It was dark when the King and his company came to the combe. Lord
+Rippingdale suggested to his Majesty that one of the gentlemen should
+ride ahead to guard against surprise or ambush, but the King laughed,
+and said that his shire of Lincoln bred no brigands, and he rode on. He
+was in the coach with a gentleman beside him, and Lord Rippingdale rode
+upon the right. Almost as the hoofs of the leaders plunged into the
+stream there came the whinny of a horse from among the boulders.
+Alarmed, the coachman whipped up his team and Lord Rippingdale clapped
+his hand upon his sword.
+
+Even as he did it two men sprang out from among the rocks, seized the
+horses’ heads, and a dozen others swarmed round, all masked and armed,
+and calling upon the King’s party to surrender, and to deliver up their
+valuables. One ruffian made to seize the bridle of Lord Rippingdale’s
+horse, but my lord’s sword severed the fellow’s hand at the wrist.
+
+“Villain,” he shouted, “do you know whom you attack?”
+
+For answer, shots rang out; and as the King’s gentlemen gathered close
+to the coach to defend him, the King himself opened the door and stepped
+out. As he did so a stilt struck him on the head. Its owner had aimed it
+at Lord Rippingdale; but as my lord’s horse plunged, it missed him, and
+struck the King fair upon the crown of the head. He swayed, groaned and
+fell back into the open door of the coach. Lord Rippingdale was at once
+beside him, sword drawn, and fighting gallantly.
+
+“Scoundrels,” he cried, “will you kill your King?”
+
+“We will have the money which the King carries,” cried one of his
+assailants. “The price of three knighthoods and the taxes of two shires
+we will have.”
+
+One of the King’s gentlemen had fallen, and another was wounded. Lord
+Rippingdale was hard pressed, but in what seemed the last extremity of
+the King and his party there came a shout from the other side of the
+stream:
+
+“God save the King! For the King! For the King!”
+
+A dozen horsemen splashed their way across the stream, and with swords
+and pistols drove through the King’s assailants and surrounded his
+coach. The ruffians made an attempt to rally and resist the onset,
+but presently broke and ran, pursued by a half-dozen of his Majesty’s
+defenders. Five of the assailants were killed and several were wounded.
+
+As Lord Rippingdale turned to Charles to raise him, the coach-door
+was opened upon the other side, a light was thrust in, and over the
+unconscious body of the King my lord recognised John Enderby.
+
+“His Majesty”--began John Enderby.
+
+“His Majesty is better,” replied Lord Rippingdale, as the King’s
+eyes half opened. “You lead these gentlemen? This should bring you a
+barony,--Sir John,” my lord added, half graciously, half satirically;
+for the honest truth of this man’s nature vexed him. “The King will
+thank you.”
+
+“John Enderby wants no reward for being a loyal subject, my lord,”
+ answered Enderby.
+
+Then with another glance at the King, in which he knew that his Majesty
+was recovered, he took off his hat, bowed, and, mounting his horse, rode
+away without a word.
+
+At Sutterby the gentlemen received gracious thanks of the King who had
+been here delivered from the first act of violence made against him in
+his reign.
+
+Of the part which Enderby had played Lord Rippingdale said no more to
+the King than this:
+
+“Sir John Enderby was of these gentlemen who saved your Majesty’s life.
+Might it not seem to your Majesty that--”
+
+“Was he of them?” interrupted the King kindly; then, all at once, out of
+his hurt vanity and narrow self-will, he added petulantly: “When he hath
+paid for the accolade of his knighthood, then will we welcome him to us,
+and make him Baron of Enderby.”
+
+Next day when Enderby entered the great iron gates of the grounds of
+Enderby House the bell was ringing for noon. The house was long and low,
+with a fine tower in the centre, and two wings ran back, forming the
+court-yard, which would have been entirely inclosed had the stables
+moved up to complete the square.
+
+When Enderby came out into the broad sweep of grass and lawn, flanked
+on either side by commendable trees, the sun shining brightly, the rooks
+flying overhead, and the smell of ripe summer in the air, he drew up his
+horse and sat looking before him.
+
+“To lose it! To lose it!” he said, and a frown gathered upon his
+forehead.
+
+Even as he looked, the figure of a girl appeared in the great doorway.
+Catching sight of the horseman, she clapped her hands and waved them
+delightedly.
+
+Enderby’s face cleared, as the sun breaks through a mass of clouds and
+lightens all the landscape. The slumberous eyes glowed, the square head
+came up. In five minutes he had dismounted at the great stone steps and
+was clasping his daughter in his arms.
+
+“Felicity, my dear daughter!” he said, tenderly and gravely.
+
+She threw back her head with a gaiety which bespoke the bubbling
+laughter in her heart, and said:
+
+“Booh! to thy solemn voice. Oh, thou great bear, dost thou love me with
+tears in thine eyes?”
+
+She took his hand and drew him inside the house, where, laying aside his
+hat and gloves and sword, they passed into the great library.
+
+“Come, now, tell me all the places thou hast visited,” she said,
+perching herself on his arm-chair.
+
+He told her, and she counted them off one by one upon her fingers.
+
+“That is ninety miles of travel thou hast had. What is the most pleasing
+thing thou hast seen?”
+
+“It was in Stickford by the fen,” he answered, after a perplexed pause.
+“There was an old man upon the roadside with his head bowed in his
+hands. Some lads were making sport of him, for he seemed so woe-begone
+and old. Two cavaliers of the King came by. One of them stopped and
+drove the lads away, then going to the old man, he said: ‘Friend, what
+is thy trouble?’ The old man raised his melancholy face and answered:
+‘Aw’m afeared, sir.’ ‘What fear you?’ inquired the young gentleman. ‘I
+fear ma wife, sir,’ replied the old man. At that the other cavalier sat
+back in his saddle and guffawed merrily. ‘Well, Dick,’ said he to his
+friend, ‘that is the worst fear in this world. Ah, Dick, thou hast ne’er
+been married!’ ‘Why do you fear your wife?’ asked Dick. ‘Aw’ve been
+robbed of ma horse and saddle and twelve skeins o’ wool. Aw’m lost,
+aw’m ruined and shall raise ma head nevermore. To ma wife aw shall ne’er
+return.’ ‘Tut tut, man,’ said Dick, ‘get back to your wife. You are
+master of your own house; you rule the roost. What is a wife? A wife’s
+a woman. You are a man. You are bigger and stronger, your bones are
+harder. Get home and wear a furious face and batter in the door and say:
+“What, ho, thou huzzy!” Why, man, fear you the wife of your bosom?’ The
+old man raised his head and said: ‘Tha doost not know ma wife or tha
+wouldst not speak like that.’ At that Dick laughed and said: ‘Fellow, I
+do pity thee;’ and taking the old man by the shoulders, he lifted him
+on his own horse and took him to the village fair. There he bought him
+twelve skeins of wool and sent him on his way rejoicing, with a horse
+worth five times his own.”
+
+With her chin in her hands the girl had listened intently to the story.
+When it was finished she said: “What didst thou say was the gentleman’s
+name?”
+
+“His friend called him Dick. He is a poor knight, one Sir Richard
+Mowbray, of Leicester, called at Court and elsewhere Happy Dick Mowbray,
+for they do say a happier and braver heart never wore the King’s
+uniform.”
+
+“Indeed I should like to know that Sir Richard Mowbray. And, tell me
+now, who is the greatest person thou hast seen in thy absence?”
+
+“I saw the King--at Boston town.”
+
+“The King! The King!” Her eyes lightened, her hands clapped merrily.
+“What did he say to thee? Now, now, there is that dark light in thine
+eyes again. I will not have it so!” With her thumbs she daintily drew
+down the eyelids and opened them again. “There, that’s better. Now what
+did the King say to thee?”
+
+“He said to me that I should be Sir John Enderby, of Enderby.”
+
+“A knight! A knight! He made thee a knight?” she asked gaily. She
+slipped from his knee and courtesied before him, then seeing the
+heaviness of his look, she added: “Booh, Sir John Enderby, why dost thou
+look so grave? Is knighthood so big a burden thou dost groan under it?”
+
+“Come here, my lass,” he said gently. “Thou art young, but day by day
+thy wisdom grows, and I can trust thee. It is better thou shouldst know
+from my own lips the peril this knighthood brings, than that trouble
+should suddenly fall and thou be unprepared.”
+
+Drawing her closely to him he told her the story of his meeting with the
+King; of Lord Rippingdale; of the King’s threat to levy upon his estates
+and to issue a writ of outlawry against him.
+
+For a moment the girl trembled, and Enderby felt her hands grow cold
+in his own, for she had a quick and sensitive nature and passionate
+intelligence and imagination.
+
+“Father,” she cried pantingly, indignantly, “the King would make thee an
+outlaw, would seize upon thy estates, because thou wouldst not pay the
+price of a paltry knighthood!” Suddenly her face flushed, the blood came
+back with a rush, and she stood upon her feet. “I would follow thee to
+the world’s end rather than that thou shouldst pay one penny for that
+honour. The King offered thee knighthood? Why, two hundred years before
+the King was born, an Enderby was promised an earldom. Why shouldst thou
+take a knighthood now? Thou didst right, thou didst right.” Her fingers
+clasped in eager emphasis.
+
+“Dost thou not see, my child,” said he, “that any hour the King’s troops
+may surround our house and take me prisoner and separate thee from me?
+I see but one thing to do; even to take thee at once from here and place
+thee with thy aunt, Mistress Falkingham, in Shrewsbury.”
+
+“Father,” the girl said, “thou shalt not put me away from thee. Let
+the King’s men surround Enderby House and the soldiers and my Lord
+Rippingdale levy upon the estates of Enderby. Neither his Majesty nor
+my Lord Rippingdale dare put a finger upon me--I would tear their eyes
+out.”
+
+Enderby smiled half sadly at her, and answered “The fear of a woman is
+one of the worst fears in this world. Booh!”
+
+So ludicrously did he imitate her own manner of a few moments before
+that humour drove away the flush of anger from her face, and she sat
+upon his chair-arm and said:
+
+“But we will not part; we will stand here till the King and Lord
+Rippingdale do their worst--is it not so, father?”
+
+He patted her head caressingly.
+
+“Thou sayest right, my lass; we will remain at Enderby. Where is thy
+brother Garrett?”
+
+“He has ridden over to Mablethorpe, but will return within the hour,”
+ she replied.
+
+At that moment there was a sound of hoofs in the court-yard. Running
+to a rear window of the library Mistress Felicity clapped her hands and
+said:
+
+“It is he--Garrett.”
+
+Ten minutes afterwards the young man entered. He was about two years
+older than his sister; that is, seventeen. He was very tall for his age,
+with dark hair and a pale dry face, and of distinguished bearing. Unlike
+his father, he was slim and gracefully built, with no breadth or power
+to his shoulders, but with an athletic suppleness and a refinement
+almost womanlike. He was tenacious, overbearing, self-willed, somewhat
+silent and also somewhat bad-tempered.
+
+There was excitement in his eye as he entered. He came straight to his
+father, giving only a nod to Mistress Felicity, who twisted her head in
+a demure little way, as though in mockery of his important manner.
+
+“Booh!--my lord duke!” she said almost under her breath.
+
+“Well, my son,” said Enderby, giving him his hand, “your face has none
+so cheerful a look. Hast thou no welcome for thy father?”
+
+“I am glad you are home again, sir,” said young Enderby, more dutifully
+than cordially.
+
+There was silence for a moment.
+
+“You do not ask my news,” said his father, eyeing him debatingly.
+
+“I have your news, sir,” was the young man’s half sullen reply.
+
+His sister came near her father, where she could look her brother
+straight in the face, and her deep blue eyes fixed upon him intently.
+The smile almost faded from her lips, and her square chin seemed
+suddenly to take on an air of seriousness and strength.
+
+“Well, sir?” asked his father.
+
+“That you, sir, have refused a knighthood of the King; that he insists
+upon your keeping it; that he is about to levy upon your estates: and
+that you are outlawed from England.”
+
+“And what think you about the matter?” asked his father.
+
+“I think it is a gentleman’s duty to take the King’s gifts without
+question,” answered the young man.
+
+“Whether the King be just or not, eh? Where would England have been, my
+son, if the barons had submitted to King John? Where would the Enderbys
+have been had they not withstood the purposes of Queen Mary? Come,
+come, the King has a chance to prove himself as John Enderby has proven
+himself. Midst other news, heard you not that last night I led a dozen
+gentlemen to the rescue of the King?”
+
+“‘Twas said in the village that his Majesty would remove his interdict
+and make you a baron, sir, if you met his levy for the knighthood.”
+
+“That I shall never do. Answer me, my son, do you stand with the King or
+with your father in this?”
+
+“I am an Enderby,” answered the youth, moodily, “and I stand with the
+head of our house.”
+
+That night as candles were being lighted, three score of the King’s men,
+headed by Lord Rippingdale, placed themselves before the house, and an
+officer was sent forward to summon forth John Enderby.
+
+Enderby had gathered his men together, and they were posted for defence
+at the doorways and entrances, and along the battlements. The windows
+were all heavily shuttered and barred.
+
+The young officer commissioned to demand an interview with Enderby came
+forward and knocked at the great entrance door. It opened presently and
+showed within the hallway a dozen men well armed. Enderby came forward
+to meet him.
+
+“I am Sir Richard Mowbray,” said the newcomer. “I am sent by Lord
+Rippingdale, who arrives on a mission from his Majesty.”
+
+Enderby, recognising his visitor, was mild in his reply.
+
+“Sir Richard Mowbray, I pray you tell Lord Rippingdale that he is
+welcome--as commissioner of the King.”
+
+Mowbray smiled and bowed.
+
+“My lord begs me to ask that you will come forth and speak with him, Sir
+John?”
+
+“My compliments to Lord Rippingdale, Sir Richard, and say that I can
+better entertain his Majesty’s commissioner within my own house.”
+
+“And all who wait with him?” asked the young officer, with a dry sort of
+smile.
+
+“My lord, and his officers and gentlemen, but not his troopers.”
+
+Mowbray bowed, and as he lifted his head again he saw the face of
+Mistress Felicity looking through the doorway of the library. Their eyes
+met. On a sudden a new impulse came to his thoughts.
+
+“Sir John Enderby,” said he, “I know how honourable a man you are, and I
+think I know the way you feel. But, as one gentleman to another, permit
+me a word of counsel. ‘Twere better to humour my Lord Rippingdale, and
+to yield up to the King’s demands, than to lose all. Lack of money
+and estate--that is hard enough on a single man like me, but with a
+gentleman who has the care of a daughter, perhaps”--his look again met
+the young lady’s face--“the case is harder. A little yielding on your
+part--”
+
+“I will not yield,” was Enderby’s reply.
+
+Mowbray bowed once more, and retired without more speaking.
+
+In a few moments he returned, Lord Rippingdale with him. The entrance
+doors were once more opened, and my lord, in a temper, at once began:
+
+“You press your courtesies too far, Sir John Enderby.”
+
+“Less strenuously than the gentlemen of the road pressed their
+discourtesies upon his Majesty and yourself last night, my lord.”
+
+“I am come upon that business. For your bravery and loyalty, if you
+will accept the knighthood, and pay the sum set as the courtesy of the
+accolade, his Majesty will welcome you at Court, and raise you to a
+barony. But his Majesty must see that his dignity be not injured.”
+
+“The King may have my life and all my goods as a gift, but I will not
+give either by these indirect means. It does not lie in a poor squire
+like me to offend the King’s dignity.”
+
+“You are resolved?”
+
+“I am resolved,” answered Enderby, stubbornly. “Then you must bear
+the consequences, and yield up your estates and person into my hands.
+Yourself and your family are under arrest, to be dealt with hereafter as
+his Majesty sees fit.”
+
+“I will not yield up my estates, nor my person, nor my son and daughter,
+of my free will.”
+
+With an incredulous smile, Rippingdale was about to leave and enter upon
+a siege of the house, when he saw young Enderby and caught a strange
+look in his face.
+
+“Young gentleman,” said he, “are you a cipher in this game? A barony
+hangs on this. Are you as stubborn and unruly as the head of your
+house?”
+
+Garrett Enderby made no reply, but turned and walked into the library,
+his father’s and sister’s eyes following him in doubt and dismay, for
+the chance was his at that moment to prove himself.
+
+A moment afterwards Lord Rippingdale was placing his men to attack the
+house, disposing of some to secure a timber to batter in the door, and
+of some to make assaults upon the rear of the building. Enderby had
+placed his men advantageously to resist attack, giving the defence of
+the rear of the house to his son. Mistress Felicity he had sent to an
+upper room in the care of her aunt.
+
+Presently the King’s men began the action, firing wherever a figure
+showed itself, and carrying a log to batter in the entrance door.
+Enderby’s men did good work, bringing down four of the besiegers at the
+first volley.
+
+Those who carried the log hesitated for a moment, and Enderby called
+encouragingly to his men.
+
+At this exciting moment, while calling to his men, he saw what struck
+him dumb--his son hurrying forward with a flag of truce to Lord
+Rippingdale! Instantly my lord commanded his men to retire.
+
+“Great God!” said Sir John, with a groan, “my son--my only son--a
+traitor!” Turning to his men he bade them cease firing.
+
+Throwing open the entrance doors, he stood upon the steps and waited for
+Lord Rippingdale.
+
+“You see, Sir John Enderby, your son--” began my lord.
+
+“It was to maintain my rights, and for my son’s sake and my daughter’s,
+that I resisted the command of the King,” interrupted the distressed and
+dishonoured gentleman, “but now--”
+
+“But now you yield?”
+
+He inclined his head, then looking down to the place where his son
+stood, he said:
+
+“My son--my only son!” And his eyes filled with tears.
+
+His distress was so moving that even Rippingdale was constrained to say:
+
+“He did it for your sake. His Majesty will--” With a gesture of despair
+Enderby turned and entered the house, and passed into the library, where
+he found his daughter. Pale and tearful she threw herself into his arms.
+
+At eleven o’clock that night as they sat in the same room, while Lord
+Rippingdale and his officers supped in the dining-room, Sir Richard
+Mowbray hurriedly entered.
+
+“Come quickly,” said he; “the way is clear--here by this window.
+The sentinels are drunk. You will find horses by the gate of the
+grape-garden, and two of your serving-men mounted. They will take you to
+a hiding-place on the coast--I have instructed them.”
+
+As he talked he helped them through the window, and bade them good-bye
+hurriedly; but he did not let Mistress Felicity’s hand drop till he had
+kissed it and wished her a whispered God-speed.
+
+When they had gone he listened for a time, but hearing no sound of
+surprise or discovery, he returned to the supper room, where Garrett
+Enderby sat drinking with Lord Rippingdale and the cavaliers.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+Seven years went by before John Enderby saw his son again or set foot in
+Enderby House. Escaping to Holland on a night when everything was taken
+from him save his honour and his daughter, he had lived there with
+Mistress Felicity, taking service in the army of the country.
+
+Outlaw as he was, his estates given over to his son who now carried a
+knighthood bestowed by King Charles, he was still a loyal subject to
+the dynasty which had dishonoured him. When the King was beheaded at
+Whitehall he mourned and lamented the miserable crime with the best of
+his countrymen.
+
+It was about this time that he journeyed into France, and there he
+stayed with his daughter two years. Mistress Falkingham, her aunt, was
+with her, and watched over her as carefully as when she was a child in
+Enderby House.
+
+About this time, Cromwell, urged by solicitous friends of the outlaw,
+sent word to him to return to England, that he might employ him
+in foreign service, if he did not care to serve in England itself.
+Cromwell’s message was full of comforting reflections upon his
+sufferings and upon the injustice that had been done to him by the late
+King. For his daughter’s sake, who had never been entirely happy out of
+England, Enderby returned, and was received with marked consideration by
+Cromwell at Whitehall.
+
+“Your son, sir,” said Cromwell, “hath been a follower of the man of sin.
+He was of those notorious people who cried out against the work of God’s
+servants when Charles paid the penalty of his treason at Whitehall. Of
+late I have received news that he is of those children of Belial who are
+intriguing to bring back the second Charles. Two days ago he was bidden
+to leave Enderby House. If he be found among those who join the Scotch
+army to fight for the Pretender, he shall bear the penalty of his
+offence.”
+
+“He has been ill advised, your Highness,” said Enderby.
+
+“He shall be advised better,” was the stern reply. “We will have peace
+in England, and we will, by the help of the Lord’s strong arm, rid this
+realm of these recalcitrant spirits. For you, sir, you shall return to
+your estate at Enderby, and we will use you abroad as opportunity shall
+occur. Your son has taken to himself the title which the man of sin
+conferred upon you, to your undoing.”
+
+“Your Highness,” replied Enderby, “I have but one desire, and that is
+peace. I have been outlawed from England so long, and my miseries have
+been so great, that I accept gladly what the justice of your Highness
+gives thus freely. But I must tell your Highness that I was no enemy of
+King Charles, and am no foe to his memory. The wrong was done by him to
+me, and not returned by me to him, and the issue is between our Maker
+and ourselves. But it is the pride of all Englishmen that England be
+well governed, and strong and important in the eyes of the nations; and
+all these things has your Highness achieved. I will serve my country
+honourably abroad, or rest peacefully here on my own estate, lifting
+no hand against your Highness, though I hold to the succession in the
+monarchy.”
+
+Cromwell looked at him steadily and frowningly for a minute, then
+presently, his face clearing, he said: “Your words, detached from your
+character, sir, would be traitorous; but as we stand, two gentlemen of
+England face to face, they seem to me like the words of an honest man,
+and I love honesty before all other, things. Get to your home, sir.
+You must not budge from it until I send for you. Then, as proof of your
+fidelity to the ruler of your country, you shall go on whatever mission
+I send you.”
+
+“Your Highness, I will do what seems my duty in the hour of your
+summons.”
+
+“You shall do the will of the Lord,” answered the Protector, and, bowing
+a farewell, turned upon his heel. Enderby looked after him a moment,
+then moved towards the door, and as he went out to mount his horse he
+muttered to himself:
+
+“The will of the Lord as ordained by Oliver Cromwell--humph!”
+
+Then he rode away up through Trafalgar Square and into the Tottenham
+Court Road, and so on out into the Shires until he came to Enderby
+House.
+
+Outside all was as he had left it seven years before, though the hedges
+were not so well kept and the grass was longer before the house. An air
+of loneliness pervaded all the place. No one met him at the door. He
+rode round into the court-yard and called. A man-servant came out. From
+him he learned that four of Cromwell’s soldiers were quartered in the
+house, that all the old servants, save two, were gone, and that his son
+had been expelled the place by Cromwell’s order two days before. Inside
+the house there was less change. Boon companion of the boisterous
+cavaliers as his son had been, the young man’s gay hours had been spent
+more away from Enderby House than in it.
+
+When young Enderby was driven from his father’s house by Cromwell, he
+determined to join the Scotch army which was expected soon to welcome
+Charles the Second from France. There he would be in contact with Lord
+Rippingdale and his Majesty. When Cromwell was driven from his place,
+great honours might await him. Hearing in London, however, that his
+father had returned, and was gone on to the estate, he turned his horse
+about and rode back again, travelling by night chiefly, and reached
+Enderby House four days after his father’s arrival there.
+
+He found his father seated alone at the dinner-table. Swinging wide open
+the door of the dining-room he strode in aggressively.
+
+The old man stood up in his place at the table and his eyes brightened
+expectantly when he saw his son, for his brain was quickened by the
+thought that perhaps, after all his wrong-doing, the boy had come back
+to stand by him, a repentant prodigal. He was a man of warm and firm
+spirit, and now his breast heaved with his emotions. This boy had been
+the apple of his eye. Since the day of his birth he had looked for great
+things from him, and had seen in him the refined perpetuation of the
+sturdy race of the Enderbys. He counted himself but a rough sort of
+country gentleman, and the courtly face of his son had suggested the
+country gentleman cast in a finer mould. He was about to speak kindly as
+of old, but the young man, with clattering spurs, came up to the other
+end of the table, and with a dry insolence said:
+
+“By whose invitation do you come here?”
+
+The blood fled from the old man’s heart. For a moment he felt sick, and
+his face turned white. He dropped his head a little and looked at his
+son steadily and mournfully.
+
+“Shall a man need an invitation to his own house, my son?” he said at
+last.
+
+The arrogant lips of the young man tightened; he tossed up his head.
+“The house is mine. I am the master here. You are an outlaw.”
+
+“An outlaw no longer,” answered the old man, “for the Protector has
+granted me again the home of which I was cruelly dispossessed.”
+
+“The Protector is a rebel!” returned the young man, and his knuckles
+rapped petulantly upon the table. “I stand for the King--for King
+Charles the Second. When you were dispossessed, his late martyred
+Majesty made me master of this estate and a knight also.”
+
+The old man’s hands clinched, in the effort to rule himself to
+quietness.
+
+“You are welcome to the knighthood which I have never accepted,” said
+he; “but for these estates--” All at once a fierce anger possessed him,
+and the great shoulders heaved up and down with emotion--“but for these
+estates, sir, no law nor king can take them from me. I am John Enderby,
+the first son of a first son, the owner of these lands since the time my
+mother gave me birth. You, sir, are the first of our name that ever was
+a traitor to his house.”
+
+So intent were the two that they did not see or hear three men who
+drew aside the curtains at the end of the room and stood spying upon
+them--three of Cromwell’s men. Young Enderby laughed sneeringly and
+answered:
+
+“It was a King of England that gave Enderby Manor to the Enderbys. The
+King is the source of all estate and honour, and I am loyal to the King.
+He is a traitor who spurns the King’s honour and defies it. He is a
+traitor who links his fortunes with that vile, murderous upstart, that
+blethering hypocrite, Oliver Cromwell. I go to Scotland to join King
+Charles, and before three months are over his Majesty will have come
+into his own again and I also into my own here at Enderby.”
+
+The old man trembled with the fierceness of his emotions.
+
+“I only am master here,” he said, “and I should have died upon this
+threshold ere my Lord Rippingdale and the King’s men had ever crossed
+it, but for you, an Enderby, who deserted me in the conflict--a coward
+who went over to the enemies of our house.”
+
+The young man’s face twitched with a malignant anger. He suddenly
+started forward, and with a sidelong blow struck his father with the
+flat of his sword. A red ridge of bruised flesh instantly rose upon
+the old man’s cheek and ear. He caught the arm of the chair by which he
+stood, staggering back as though he had received a mortal wound.
+
+“No, no, no!” he said, his voice gulping with misery and horror.--“No,
+no! Kill me, if you will--I but cannot fight you. Oh, my God, my God!”
+ he gasped scarcely above a whisper. “Unnatural-unnatural!” He said no
+more, for, upon the instant, four men entered the room. They were of
+Cromwell’s Ironsides. Young Enderby looked round swiftly, ready to
+fight, but he saw at once that he was trapped. The old man also laid his
+hand upon his sword, but he saw that the case was hopeless. He dropped
+into his chair and leaned his head upon his hands.
+
+        ......................
+
+Two months went by. The battle of Dunbar was fought, and Charles had
+lost it. Among the prisoners was Garrett Enderby, who had escaped from
+his captors on the way from Enderby House to London, and had joined
+the Scottish army. He was now upon trial for his life. Cromwell’s anger
+against him was violent. The other prisoners of war were treated as
+such, and were merely confined to prison, but young Enderby was charged
+with blasphemy and sedition, and with assaulting one of Cromwell’s
+officers--for on the very day that young Enderby made the assault,
+Cromwell’s foreign commission for John Enderby was on its way to
+Lincolnshire.
+
+Of the four men who had captured Garrett Enderby at Enderby House, three
+had been killed in battle, and the other had deserted. The father was
+thus the chief witness against his son. He was recalled from Portugal
+where he had been engaged upon Cromwell’s business.
+
+The young man’s judges leaned forward expectantly as John Enderby took
+his place. The Protector himself sat among them.
+
+“What is your name, sir?” asked Cromwell. “John Enderby, your Highness.”
+
+“It hath been said that you hold a title given you by the man of sin.”
+
+“I have never taken a title from any man, your Highness.”
+
+A look of satisfaction crossed the gloomy and puritanical faces of the
+officers of the court-martial. Other questions were put, and then came
+the vital points. To the first of these, as to whether young Enderby had
+uttered malignant and seditious libels against the Protector, the old
+man would answer nothing.
+
+“What speech hath ever been between my son and myself,” he said, “is
+between my son and myself only.” A start of anger travelled round the
+circle of the court-martial. Young Enderby watched his father curiously
+and sullenly.
+
+“Duty to country comes before all private feeling,” said Cromwell. “I
+command you, sir, on peril of a charge of treason against yourself, to
+answer the question of the Court. ‘If thy right hand offend thee, cut
+it off; if thy foot cause thee to stumble, heave it to the shambles.
+The pernicious branch of the just tree shall be cloven and cast into
+the brush-heap.’ You are an officer of this commonwealth, sir?” asked
+Cromwell, again.
+
+“By your Highness’s permission,” he replied.
+
+“Did your son strike you upon the face with the flat of his sword upon
+the night recorded in this charge against him?”
+
+“What acts have passed between my son and myself are between my son and
+myself only,” replied Enderby, steadily. He did not look at his son, but
+presently the tears rolled down his cheeks, so that more than one of his
+judges who had sons of their own were themselves moved. But they took
+their cue from the Protector, and made no motion towards the old man’s
+advantage. Once more Cromwell essayed to get Enderby’s testimony, but,
+“I will not give witness against my son,” was his constant and dogged
+reply. At last Cromwell rose in anger.
+
+“We will have justice in this realm of England,” said he, “though it
+turn the father against the son and the son against the father. Though
+the house be divided against itself yet the Lord’s work shall be done.”
+
+Turning his blazing eyes upon John Enderby, he said: “Troublous and
+degenerate man, get gone from this country, and no more set foot in it
+on peril of your life. We recalled you from outlawry, believing you to
+be a true lover of your country, but we find you malignant, seditious
+and dangerous.”
+
+He turned towards the young man.
+
+“You, sir, shall get you back to prison until other witnesses be found.
+Although we know your guilt, we will be formal and just.”
+
+With an impatient nod to an officer beside him, he waved his hand
+towards father and son.
+
+As he was about to leave the room, John Enderby stretched out a hand to
+him appealingly.
+
+“Your Highness,” said he, “I am an old man.”
+
+“Will you bear witness in this cause?” asked Cromwell, his frown
+softening a little.
+
+“Your Highness, I have suffered unjustly; the lad is bone of my bone and
+flesh of my flesh. I cannot--”
+
+With an angry wave of the hand Cromwell walked heavily from the room.
+
+Some touch of shame came to the young man’s cold heart, and he spoke to
+his father as the officers were about to lead him away.
+
+“I have been wrong, I have misunderstood you, sir,” he said, and he
+seemed about to hold out his hand. But it was too late. The old man
+turned on him, shaking his shaggy head.
+
+“Never, sir, while I live. The wrong to me is little. I can take my
+broken life into a foreign land and die dishonoured and forgotten. But
+my other child, my one dear child who has suffered year after year with
+me--for the wrong you have done her, I never, never, never will forgive
+you. Not for love of you have I spoken as I did to-day, but for the
+honour of the Enderbys and because you were the child of your mother.”
+
+Two days later at Southampton the old man boarded a little packet-boat
+bound for Havre.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+The years went by again. At last all was changed in England. The
+monarchy was restored, and the land was smiling and content. One day
+there was a private reading in the Queen’s chamber of the palace. The
+voice of the reader moved in pleasant yet vibrant modulations:
+
+   “The King was now come to a time when his enemies wickedly began to
+   plot against him secretly and to oppose him in his purposes; which,
+   in his own mind, were beneficent and magnanimous. From the shire
+   where his labours had been most unselfish came the first malignant
+   insult to his person and the first peril to his life, prefiguring
+   the hellish plots and violence which drove him to his august
+   martyrdom--”
+
+The King had entered quietly as the lady-in-waiting read this passage to
+the Queen, and, attracted by her voice, continued to listen, signifying
+to the Queen, by a gesture, that she and her ladies were not to rise.
+This was in the time when Charles was yet devoted to his Princess of
+Portugal, and while she was yet happy and undisturbed by rumours--or
+assurances--of her Lord’s wandering affections.
+
+“And what shire was that?” asked the King at that point where the
+chronicler spoke of his royal father’s “august martyrdom.”
+
+“The shire of Lincoln, your Majesty,” said the young lady who read,
+flushing. Then she rose from her footstool at the Queen’s feet, and made
+the King an elaborate courtesy.
+
+Charles waved a gentle and playful gesture of dissent from her extreme
+formality, and, with a look of admiration, continued:
+
+“My Lord Rippingdale should know somewhat of that ‘first violence’ of
+which you have read, Mistress Falkingham. He is of Lincolnshire.”
+
+“He knows all, your Majesty; he was present at that ‘first violence.’”
+
+“It would be amusing for Rippingdale to hear these records--my Lord
+Clarendon’s, are they not? Ah--not in the formal copy of his work?
+And by order of my Lord Rippingdale? Indeed! And wherefore, my Lord
+Rippingdale?”
+
+“Shall I read on, your Majesty?” asked the young lady, with heightened
+colour, and a look of adventure and purpose in her eyes. Perhaps, too,
+there was a look of anger in them--not against the King, for there was
+a sort of eagerness or appealing in the glance she cast towards his
+Majesty.
+
+The Queen lifted her eyes to the King half doubtfully, for the question
+seemed to her perilous, Charles being little inclined, as a rule, to
+listen to serious reading, though he was ever gay in conversation,
+and alert for witty badinage. His Majesty, however, seemed more than
+complaisant; he was even boyishly eager.
+
+The young lady had been but a short time in the household, having come
+over with the Queen from Portugal, where she had been brought to
+the notice of the then Princess by her great coolness and bravery in
+rescuing a young lady of Lisbon from grave peril. She had told the
+Princess then that she was the daughter of an exiled English gentleman,
+and was in the care of her aunt, one Mistress Falkingham, while her
+father was gone on an expedition to Italy. The Princess, eager to
+learn English, engaged her, and she had remained in the palace till the
+Princess left for England. A year passed, and then the Queen of England
+sent for her, and she had been brought close to the person of her
+Majesty.
+
+At a motion from Charles, who sat upon a couch, idly tapping the buckles
+on his shoes with a gold-handled staff, the young lady placed herself
+again at the Queen’s feet and continued reading:
+
+   “It was when the King was come to Boston town upon the business of
+   the Fens and to confer sundry honours and inquire into the taxes,
+   and for further purpose of visiting a good subject at Louth, who
+   knew of the secret plans of Pym and Hampden, that this shameful
+   violence befel our pious and illustrious prince. With him was my
+   Lord Rippingdale and--”
+
+“Ah, ah, my Lord Rippingdale!” said Charles, half aloud, “so this is
+where my lord and secret history meet--my dear, dumb lord.”
+
+Continuing, the young lady read a fair and just account of the
+King’s meeting with John Enderby, of Enderby’s refusal to accept the
+knighthood, and of his rescue of the King at Sutterby.
+
+“Enderby? Enderby?” interjected the King, “that was not one Sir Garrett
+Enderby who was with the Scottish army at Dunbar?”
+
+“No, your Majesty,” said the young lady, scarcely looking up from the
+page she held, “Sir Garrett Enderby died in Portugal, where he fled,
+having escaped from prison and Cromwell’s vengeance.”
+
+“What Enderby did this fine thing then? My faith, my martyred father had
+staunch men--even in Lincolnshire.”
+
+“The father of Sir Garrett Enderby it was, your Majesty.”
+
+“How came the son by the knighthood? ‘S’death, it seems to me I have a
+memory of this thing somewhere, if I could but find it!”
+
+“His gracious Majesty of sacred memory gave him his knighthood.”
+
+“Let me hear the whole story. Is it all there, Mistress Falkingham?”
+ said the King, nodding towards the pages she held.
+
+“It is not all here, your Majesty; but I can tell what so many in
+England know, and something of what no one in England knows.”
+
+The Queen put out her hand as if to stay the telling, for she saw what
+an impression her fair reader had made upon the King. But the young lady
+saw no one save Charles--she did not note the entrance of two gentle
+men, one of whom looked at her in surprise. This was Sir Richard Mowbray
+of Leicester. The other was Lord Rippingdale (now lord chamberlain), who
+had brought Sir Richard thither at the request of the King. Sir Richard
+had been momentarily expected on his return from a mission to Spain, and
+my Lord had orders to bring him to the King on the very instant of his
+arrival.
+
+The King waved his hand when Lord Rippingdale would have come forward,
+and the young lady continued with the history of John Enderby. She
+forgot her surroundings. It seemed as though she were giving vent to
+the suppressed feelings, imaginations, sufferings and wrongs of years.
+Respectfully, but sadly, when speaking of the dead King; eloquently,
+tenderly, when speaking of her father; bitterly, when speaking of Oliver
+Cromwell, she told the story with a point, a force and a passionate
+intelligence, which brought to the face of Charles a look of serious
+admiration. He straightened himself where he sat, and did not let his
+eyes wander from the young lady’s face. As she spoke of Sir Garrett
+Enderby and his acts--his desertion when Lord Rippingdale laid siege
+to the house, his quarrel with his father, the trial of the son, the
+father’s refusal to testify against him, and the second outlawing
+by Cromwell--her voice faltered, but she told the tale bravely and
+determinedly; for she now saw Lord Rippingdale in the chamber. Whenever
+she had mentioned his name in the narrative, it was with a slight
+inflection of scorn, which caused the King to smile; and when she spoke
+of the ruin of Enderby House, her brother’s death and her father’s years
+of exile, tears came into the Queen’s eyes, and the King nodded his head
+in sympathy.
+
+Sir Richard Mowbray, with face aflame, watched her closely. As she
+finished her story he drew aside to where she could not see him without
+turning round. But Lord Rippingdale she saw with ease, and she met his
+eyes firmly, and one should say, with some malicious triumph, were she
+not a woman.
+
+“My lord Rippingdale,” said the King, slowly and bitingly, “what shall
+be done to the man whom the King delighteth to honour?”
+
+“Were I Mordecai I could better answer that question, Sir,” was my
+Lord’s reply.
+
+“Perhaps my Lord Rippingdale could answer for Haman, then,” returned his
+Majesty.
+
+“My imagination is good, but not fifty cubits high, Sir.”
+
+The answer pleased the King. For he ever turned life into jest--his
+sorrows and his joys. He rose motioning towards the door, and Lord
+Rippingdale passed out just behind him, followed by Sir Richard Mowbray,
+who stole a glance at the young chronicler as he went. She saw him, then
+recognised him, and flushed scarlet.
+
+She did not dare, however, to let him come to her. He understood, and he
+went his way after the King and Lord Rippingdale.
+
+In all the years that had passed since the night he had helped her
+father and herself to escape from Enderby House; since he aided them
+to leave their hiding-place on the coast and escape to Holland, she had
+never forgotten his last words to her, the laughing look of his eyes,
+the pressure of his hand. Many a time since she had in her own mind
+thought of him as she had heard her father call him, even as “Happy Dick
+Mowbray!” and the remembrance of his joyous face had been a help to her
+in all her sufferings. His brown hair was now streaked with grey, but
+the light in the face was the same; there was the same alertness and
+buoyant health in the figure and the same row of laughing white teeth.
+
+As she stood watching the departing figure, she scarcely knew that the
+Queen was preparing to go to her bed-chamber. She became aware of it
+definitely by the voice of her Majesty, now somewhat petulant.
+
+Two hours later she was walking alone in one of the galleries when,
+hearing a gentle step behind her, she turned and saw the King. She made
+an obeisance and was about to move on, when he stopped her, speaking
+kindly to her, and thanking her for the great pleasure she had given him
+that afternoon.
+
+“What should be done for this quasi knight of Enderby?” asked the King.
+
+“He saved the life of the King,” she said; then boldly, confidently,
+“your Majesty, for conscience sake he lost all--what can repay him for
+his dishonoured years and his ruined home!”
+
+“What think you, Mistress, should be done with him? Speak freely of the
+man whom the King delighteth to honour.”
+
+She felt the sincerity under the indolent courtesy, and spoke as only a
+woman can speak for those she loves. “Your Majesty, he should have the
+earldom promised his ancestor by Wolsey, and his estates restored to him
+as he left them.”
+
+The King laughed dryly.
+
+“He might refuse the large earldom, as he scorned the little
+knighthood.”
+
+“If your Majesty secured him estates suitable to his rank he could have
+no reason to refuse. He was solicitous and firm then for his son--but
+now!”
+
+Her reply was as diplomatic and suggestive as it was sincere, and
+Charles loved such talents.
+
+“Upon my soul, dear Mistress Falkingham, I love your cleverness,” said
+the King, “and I will go further, I--” He stooped and whispered in her
+ear, but she drew back in affright and anxiety.
+
+“Oh, your Majesty, your Majesty,” she said, “I had not thought--”
+
+She moved on distractedly, but he put out his hand and stayed her.
+
+“Ah, a moment, sweetheart,” he urged.
+
+“I must go to the Queen,” she answered hurriedly. “Oh, your Majesty,
+your Majesty,” she repeated, “would you ruin me?” Her eyes filled with
+tears. “Until the Queen welcomed me here I have had nothing but sorrow.
+I am friendless and alone.”
+
+“No, no,” said Charles, kindly, “not alone while Charles is King in
+England.”
+
+“I am little more than an orphan here,” she said, “for my father is now
+only a common soldier, your Majesty, and--”
+
+“A common soldier!” repeated Charles a little stiffly; “they told me he
+was a gentleman of England doing service in Italy.”
+
+“My father is in your Majesty’s household guard,” she answered. “He was
+John Enderby--alas! none would recognise him now as such.”
+
+The King stared at her a moment. “You--you--Mistress--you are John
+Enderby’s daughter?”
+
+Her reply was scarce above a whisper. “His only child, Sir.”
+
+“Upon my soul! Upon my soul!” was all Charles said for a moment, and
+then he added: “Why did you not speak before?”
+
+“My father would not permit me, your Majesty. He is only returned to
+England these few months.”
+
+“He is here to--?”
+
+“To be near to myself, Sir.”
+
+The King bowed low over her hand.
+
+“Mistress Enderby,” said he, frankly, “we are honoured by your presence
+in this place. To-morrow morning at eleven your father shall come to us.
+You are still but a child in face,” he said; “and yet--eh?”
+
+“I am twenty-seven years old,” she answered frankly.
+
+“Quite old enough to be a countess,” he said charmingly, “and young
+enough to enjoy the honours thereof.” So saying he bowed again, and with
+a gracious smile dismissed her. She went so quickly that she did not see
+two gentlemen almost at her elbow as she left the gallery. One of them
+was Lord Rippingdale.
+
+“Ha,” said my lord, with a wicked smile, “a new violet in the King’s
+garden!”
+
+His companion turned on him swiftly.
+
+“My lord,” said he, “this is the second time to-day you have slandered
+this lady.”
+
+The other lifted his eyebrows.
+
+“Is it a slander to say that the King finds a lady charming at any hour
+o’ the clock?” he rejoined.
+
+Sir Richard slapped him across the cheek with his glove.
+
+“I take a pleasant duty from John Enderby’s shoulders, my lord. I will
+meet you at your pleasure.”
+
+The next morning at sunrise Lord Rippingdale declared with his last
+breath that he did not know the lady was John Enderby’s daughter, and he
+begged Sir Richard to carry to Enderby his regret for all past wrongs.
+
+Sir Richard came in upon the King at the moment that his Majesty was
+receiving John Enderby--a whiteheaded old man, yet hale and strong, and
+wearing the uniform of the King’s Guard. The fire of Enderby’s eye was
+not quenched. The King advanced towards him, and said:
+
+“You are welcome to our Court, Squire Enderby. You have been absent too
+long. You will honour us by accepting a tardy justice--without a price,”
+ he added, in a low tone.
+
+“Your Majesty,” said Enderby, “for me justice comes too late, but for my
+child--”
+
+“An earldom can never come too late--eh?” asked the King, smiling gaily.
+
+“For me, your Majesty, all comes too late except--” his voice shook a
+little--“except the house where I was born.”
+
+Charles looked at him gravely.
+
+“Upon my soul, Enderby,” said he, “you are a man to be envied. We will
+not rob you of your good revenge on our house or of your independence.
+But still we must have our way. Your daughter,”--he turned lightly
+towards Felicity,--“if she will not refuse me, and she cannot upon the
+ground that you refused my father--she shall be Countess of Enderby in
+her own right; with estates in keeping.”
+
+Womanlike, Mistress Felicity had no logical argument against an honour
+so munificently ordained. “And now for your estates--who holds them?”
+ asked the King.
+
+“Lord Rippingdale, your Majesty,” answered Enderby.
+
+“Yes, yes, my lord Haman! We have already sent for him. It is long past
+the time.” His brow darkened.
+
+Sir Richard Mowbray stepped forward and said: “Your Majesty, Lord
+Rippingdale is beyond obedience or reparation;” and then he gave the
+message of the dead man to John Enderby.
+
+A month later Mowbray was permitted to return to Court, and with him
+came John Enderby and the Countess of Enderby. When Charles was told
+how matters had gone between the younger two, he gave vent to a mock
+indignation; and in consequence he made Sir Richard Mowbray an earl
+also, that, as he said, they might both be at the same nearness to him;
+for etiquette was tyrannical, and yet he did not know which of them he
+loved better!
+
+As for the man so long dishonoured, Charles swore that since John
+Enderby came not to the King at Court, the King would go to him at
+Enderby. And go he did in good temper and in great friendship for many a
+year.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of John Enderby, by Gilbert Parker
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