الفصل الفصل 17 · Chapter 17

. Chapter 17

The summer passed away, and the bleak fall came. Myles had long since

accepted his position as one set apart from the others of his kind, and

had resigned himself to the evident fact that he was never to serve

in the household in waiting upon the Earl. I cannot say that it never

troubled him, but in time there came a compensation of which I shall

have presently to speak.

And then he had so much the more time to himself. The other lads were

sometimes occupied by their household duties when sports were afoot

in which they would liked to have taken part. Myles was always free

to enter into any matter of the kind after his daily exercise had been

performed at the pels, the butts, or the tilting-court.

But even though he was never called to do service in “my Lord's house,”

he was not long in gaining a sort of second-hand knowledge of all the

family. My Lady, a thin, sallow, faded dame, not yet past middle age,

but looking ten years older. The Lady Anne, the daughter of the house;

a tall, thin, dark-eyed, dark-haired, handsome young dame of twenty or

twenty-one years of age, hawk-nosed like her father, and silent, proud,

and haughty, Myles heard the squires say. Lady Alice, the Earl of

Mackworth's niece and ward, a great heiress in her own right, a

strikingly pretty black-eyed girl of fourteen or fifteen.

These composed the Earl's personal family; but besides them was Lord

George Beaumont, his Earl's brother, and him Myles soon came to know

better than any of the chief people of the castle excepting Sir James

Lee.

For since Myles's great battle in the armory, Lord George had taken a

laughing sort of liking to the lad, encouraging him at times to talk of

his adventures, and of his hopes and aspirations.

Perhaps the Earl's younger brother--who was himself somewhat a soldier

of fortune, having fought in Spain, France, and Germany--felt a certain

kinship in spirit with the adventurous youngster who had his unfriended

way to make in the world. However that might have been, Lord George was

very kind and friendly to the lad, and the willing service that Myles

rendered him reconciled him not a little to the Earl's obvious neglect.

Besides these of the more immediate family of the Earl were a number

of knights, ladies, and gentlemen, some of them cadets, some of them

retainers, of the house of Beaumont, for the princely nobles of those

days lived in state little less royal than royalty itself.

Most of the knights and gentlemen Myles soon came to know by sight,

meeting them in Lord George's apartments in the south wing of the great

house, and some of them, following the lead of Lord George, singled him

out for friendly notice, giving him a nod or a word in passing.

Every season has its pleasures for boys, and the constant change that

they bring is one of the greatest delights of boyhood's days.

All of us, as we grow older, have in our memory pictures of by-gone

times that are somehow more than usually vivid, the colors of some not

blurring by time as others do. One of which, in remembering, always

filled Myles's heart in after-years with an indefinable pleasure, was

the recollection of standing with others of his fellow squires in the

crisp brown autumn grass of the paddock, and shooting with the long-bow

at wildfowl, which, when the east wind was straining, flew low overhead

to pitch to the lake in the forbidden precincts of the deer park beyond

the brow of the hill. More than once a brace or two of these wildfowl,

shot in their southward flight by the lads and cooked by fat,

good-natured Mother Joan, graced the rude mess-table of the squires in

the long hall, and even the toughest and fishiest drake, so the fruit

of their skill, had a savor that, somehow or other, the daintiest fare

lacked in after-years.

Then fall passed and winter came, bleak, cold, and dreary--not winter as

we know it nowadays, with warm fires and bright lights to make the long

nights sweet and cheerful with comfort, but winter with all its grimness

and sternness. In the great cold stone-walled castles of those days the

only fire and almost the only light were those from the huge blazing

logs that roared and crackled in the great open stone fireplace, around

which the folks gathered, sheltering their faces as best they could from

the scorching heat, and cloaking their shoulders from the biting cold,

for at the farther end of the room, where giant shadows swayed and

bowed and danced huge and black against the high walls, the white frost

glistened in the moonlight on the stone pavements, and the breath went

up like smoke.

In those days were no books to read, but at the best only rude stories

and jests, recited by some strolling mummer or minstrel to the listening

circle, gathered around the blaze and welcoming the coarse, gross jests,

and coarser, grosser songs with roars of boisterous laughter.

Yet bleak and dreary as was the winter in those days, and cold and

biting as was the frost in the cheerless, windy halls and corridors of

the castle, it was not without its joys to the young lads; for then, as

now, boys could find pleasure even in slushy weather, when the sodden

snow is fit for nothing but to make snowballs of.

Thrice that bitter winter the moat was frozen over, and the lads, making

themselves skates of marrow-bones, which they bought from the hall cook

at a groat a pair, went skimming over the smooth surface, red-checked

and shouting, while the crows and the jackdaws looked down at them from

the top of the bleak gray walls.

Then at Yule-tide, which was somewhat of a rude semblance to the Merry

Christmas season of our day, a great feast was held in the hall, and all

the castle folk were fed in the presence of the Earl and the Countess.

Oxen and sheep were roasted whole; huge suet puddings, made of barley

meal sweetened with honey and stuffed with plums, were boiled in great

caldrons in the open courtyard; whole barrels of ale and malmsey were

broached, and all the folk, gentle and simple, were bidden to the feast.

Afterwards the minstrels danced and played a rude play, and in the

evening a miracle show was performed on a raised platform in the north

hall.

For a week afterwards the castle was fed upon the remains of the good

things left from that great feast, until everyone grew to loathe fine

victuals, and longed for honest beef and mustard again.

Then at last in that constant change the winter was gone, and even the

lads who had enjoyed its passing were glad when the winds blew warm once

more, and the grass showed green in sunny places, and the leader of the

wild-fowl blew his horn, as they who in the fall had flown to the south

flew, arrow-like, northward again; when the buds swelled and the leaves

burst forth once more, and crocuses and then daffodils gleamed in the

green grass, like sparks and flames of gold.

With the spring came the out-door sports of the season; among others

that of ball--for boys were boys, and played at ball even in those

faraway days--a game called trap-ball. Even yet in some parts of England

it is played just as it was in Myles Falworth's day, and enjoyed just as

Myles and his friends enjoyed it.

So now that the sun was warm and the weather pleasant the game of

trap-ball was in full swing every afternoon, the play-ground being an

open space between the wall that surrounded the castle grounds and that

of the privy garden--the pleasance in which the ladies of the Earl's

family took the air every day, and upon which their apartments opened.

Now one fine breezy afternoon, when the lads were shouting and playing

at this, then their favorite game, Myles himself was at the trap

barehanded and barearmed. The wind was blowing from behind him, and,

aided perhaps by it, he had already struck three of four balls nearly

the whole length of the court--an unusual distance--and several of the

lads had gone back almost as far as the wall of the privy garden to

catch any ball that might chance to fly as far as that. Then once more

Myles struck, throwing all his strength into the blow. The ball shot up

into the air, and when it fell, it was to drop within the privy garden.

The shouts of the young players were instantly stilled, and Gascoyne,

who stood nearest Myles, thrust his hands into his belt, giving a long

shrill whistle.

“This time thou hast struck us all out, Myles,” said he. “There be no

more play for us until we get another ball.”

The outfielders came slowly trooping in until they had gathered in a

little circle around Myles.

“I could not help it,” said Myles, in answer to their grumbling. “How

knew I the ball would fly so far? But if I ha' lost the ball, I can get

it again. I will climb the wall for it.”

“Thou shalt do naught of the kind, Myles,” said Gascoyne, hastily.

“Thou art as mad as a March hare to think of such a venture! Wouldst get

thyself shot with a bolt betwixt the ribs, like poor Diccon Cook?”

Of all places about the castle the privy garden was perhaps the most

sacred. It was a small plot of ground, only a few rods long and wide,

and was kept absolutely private for the use of the Countess and her

family. Only a little while before Myles had first come to Devlen,

one of the cook's men had been found climbing the wall, whereupon the

soldier who saw him shot him with his cross bow. The poor fellow dropped

from the wall into the garden, and when they found him, he still held

a bunch of flowers in his hand, which he had perhaps been gathering for

his sweetheart.

Had Myles seen him carried on a litter to the infirmary as Gascoyne

and some of the others had done, he might have thought twice before

venturing to enter the ladies' private garden. As it was, he only shook

his stubborn head, and said again, “I will climb the wall and fetch it.”

Now at the lower extremity of the court, and about twelve or fifteen

feet distant from the garden wall, there grew a pear-tree, some of the

branches of which overhung into the garden beyond. So, first making sure

that no one was looking that way, and bidding the others keep a sharp

lookout, Myles shinned up this tree, and choosing one of the thicker

limbs, climbed out upon it for some little distance. Then lowering his

body, he hung at arm's-length, the branch bending with his weight, and

slowly let himself down hand under hand, until at last he hung directly

over the top of the wall, and perhaps a foot above it. Below him he

could see the leafy top of an arbor covered with a thick growth of

clematis, and even as he hung there he noticed the broad smooth

walks, the grassy terrace in front of the Countess's apartments in the

distance, the quaint flower-beds, the yew-trees trimmed into odd shapes,

and even the deaf old gardener working bare-armed in the sunlight at a

flower-bed in the far corner by the tool-house.

The top of the wall was pointed like a house roof, and immediately below

him was covered by a thick growth of green moss, and it flashed through

his mind as he hung there that maybe it would offer a very slippery

foothold for one dropping upon the steep slopes of the top. But it was

too late to draw back now.

Bracing himself for a moment, he loosed his hold upon the limb above.

The branch flew back with a rush, and he dropped, striving to grasp the

sloping angle with his feet. Instantly the treacherous slippery moss

slid away from beneath him; he made a vain clutch at the wall, his

fingers sliding over the cold stones, then, with a sharp exclamation,

down he pitched bodily into the garden beneath! A thousand thoughts

flew through his brain like a cloud of flies, and then a leafy greenness

seemed to strike up against him. A splintering crash sounded in his

ears as the lattice top of the arbor broke under him, and with one final

clutch at the empty air he fell heavily upon the ground beneath.

He heard a shrill scream that seemed to find an instant echo; even as

he fell he had a vision of faces and bright colors, and when he sat up,

dazed and bewildered, he found himself face to face with the Lady Anne,

the daughter of the house, and her cousin, the Lady Alice, who clutching

one another tightly, stood staring at him with wide scared eyes.