Book 2 — Chapter XV

Shows how the Lord Chief Justice of England kept a Love Tryst and what befell him at the Boar's Head Inn

It seemed hours, although really but a few minutes, before there came a discreet tap upon the door. Before I had time to say a word, it opened cautiously and the burly figure of a man muffled in a long cloak entered the room. The door was closed behind him. He took off his hat, unbuttoned his coat, and dropped it carelessly in a chair.

"'Tis so dark in here, Doll," he began, in a rough, hoarse voice, "that I couldn't see a blush on your face, even if you could conjure up one." He peered about him in the half-light uncertainly. "Why so sparing of the candles?" he asked with a coarse laugh. "Come, no tricks, you baggage; where are ye?"

He looked about him a moment more, fortunately not seeing me behind the hangings, and then strode boldly across the room and laid his hand on the bed-chamber door.

"Art couched already, wench?" he chuckled out.

As noiselessly as a cat, and with more swiftness than he had exhibited, I had followed him and, as his hand touched the door handle, I pricked him on the shoulder with the point of my sword. He wheeled around with a marvellous swiftness for a man of his bulk and confronted me. He did not yet recognise me in the dim light, but he saw enough to know that it was the tall form of a man in the room he expected to be welcomed to by a woman. He opened his mouth, but, before he could make a sound, I said:

"Unless you want me to run you through with this blade, you will be absolutely silent, sir."

I never saw a more ridiculous spectacle than he presented—his mouth open, his fat face violently flushed. Like most bullies—not all—this bloodthirsty jurist—God save the mark—was an arrant coward. He shrank back against the wall and only stopped retreating when further escape was impossible.

"Do you know what 'tis you are doing?" he growled. "You are raising sword against the Lord Chief Justice of England; your life will be forfeited, 'tis treason. I will have you hung, drawn, quartered. Drop your blade instantly, knave," he went on, gaining courage as he heard his own voice.

"I would not hesitate to raise this blade against the King himself," answered I coolly.

"What, sirrah..." he began.

He was so accustomed to browbeat helpless victims who came before his court that his course was as natural as breathing, but I was not a victim and this was not a court, as he should very soon find out.

"And I am quite aware," I interrupted, "of all that I risk. It disturbs me not a whit. In faith, were I you, my lord, I would not dwell too much on what may happen to me in future; your present predicament is your chief concern. I advise you to give heed to it."

"Is it my money you want?" he asked, growing more and more alarmed.

"Nay," said I, "keep your hands by your side."

My sword made little circles about his throat. It was a trick of fence I had learned and it added greatly to his discomfiture.

"Take away that blade," he pleaded.

"When it suits me," I replied.

I edged around him until I could reach the bedroom door. I knocked upon it, and instantly Macleod presented himself. It pleased me to see that he had his old and terrible Scottish claymore bared and ready.

"Who is this?" asked Jeffreys, with a new accession of alarm.

"You will learn presently, my lord, that it is now not for you to ask questions, but to answer them."

"What would you, sir?" asked Macleod of me.

"Lights," said I. "I have no doubt that Lord Jeffreys would fain know whom he entertains; but first bolt the door into the hall."

"One shout," growled the Lord Chief Justice, "and I could arouse the Inn."

"But you would be so sound asleep, my lord, on the next second, that no shouting that I have heard would suffice to awaken you. Dost take my meaning?"

"Curse you, yes!"

"Remember, then, to speak softly till I give you leave to call."

While I had spoken, Macleod had barred the heavy door precluding any chance interruption; although I trusted to the landlord's zeal and devotion to prevent that, it was well not to neglect any precaution. Then, from the solitary candle, he lighted a number of others. My back was to the light, but presently I moved to let it shine upon my face.

"Richmond!" gasped Jeffreys, turning a shade paler under his red.

"The same, sir."

"What do you here?" queried the Lord Chief Justice. "You are a proscribed outlaw; I can order you seized and executed without formality of a trial; you have no standing in the court."

"I know that full well," said I. "I knew it before I heard it from your lips, worthy master of the law, and therefore your repetition of it affects me not at all."

"What do you want?" asked the frightened blackguard blusteringly.

"A small thing, an it please you—my wife."

"You fool," he muttered under his breath, "I haven't got her. Go to the King."

"That I shall, sir."

The incautious admission of the Lord Chief Justice that I should seek the King apprised me of what I had more than suspected, that he was in the base plot.

"I mean I know nothing of her," he began, seeking to cover his blunder.

"I am glad to find out from you where she hath been taken."

Jeffreys laughed. He saw that I knew, and that I was not to be put off. Besides, his natural viciousness would not let him lose so good an opportunity to taunt me, even at so great a risk to himself.

"The King hath some spirit, after all," he said meaningly.

"Now, by the God above us," I hissed, "I could kill you for those words."

And, but I needed him, I would have done it then and there. The world would have been well rid of so low and base a villain that disgraced the judicial ermine that he wore.

"I did but jest," he said, in cowardly confusion. "It was the King's will. I had naught to do with it."

"Don't jest that way again or I might indulge my own humour, which, I assure you, hath a more biting point than yours;" and, as that point was plainly visible to him, he could not have missed my meaning. "I know perfectly well that you and that pander Stenwold are as much responsible as the cowardly King, whom I have served long enough to estimate at his true worth, or worthlessness. He hath exiled me, he hath stolen my wife; I am no longer his man, but Prince William's, across the water, and, when we come back, God help King James and you!"

"I am sure," protested Jeffreys, "that I wish you well and..."

"No more of that," I said curtly.

"I'll e'en help you to get your wife," he ran on, "if..."

"I intend that you shall do so without conditions."

"But I am helpless here," continued my lord. "Release me and I will go to the King..."

"I know a better way than that," I said.

"What way?"

"I will bring my wife from his Majesty's hand with an order from you, my lord."

"From me? I don't understand you. I cannot issue orders to the King, sir. You rave."

"Nay, I was never soberer. I shall tell the King that I have you in safe ward; it will be her life or your life. If a hair of her head is harmed, you shall pay."

"My God, man!"

"The King loves you, you say."

"Yes, but..."

"Have you no confidence in the reality of his affection?"

"Ay, surely, but..." he began, more feverishly.

"Enough," said I. "I have decided, and from my decision there is no appeal to any court. On yonder table are writing materials; go to it; write as I dictate."

"Nay, good Sir Hugh, I..."

"Hesitate but a moment and I will make your life pay before I have ascertained that she has suffered. You know, Lord Jeffreys, that I have nothing to lose."

"I'll write, I'll write, but be not so hasty with thy point, Richmond."

"No more," said I. "Take the quill."

"What shall I write?" he asked, seizing the pen.

And thus I dictated to him:

"For God's love, Your Most Gracious and Royal Majesty, I am held prisoner by Sir Hugh Richmond, who threatens me with instant death should his wife suffer any mistreatment at Your Majesty's hands. I have served you well, Sire; leave me not now defenceless in mine enemy's hand. Sir Hugh is desperate; he will kill me. I fear me for my life. Your most faithful humble servant."

He wrote it all down at my dictation.

"Hast finished?" I asked.

He nodded his head.

"Sign it."

He scrawled beneath it, "Jeffreys, Lord Chief Justice of England."

"Seal it," said I.

His hands trembled so he could scarcely drop the wax, his mouth was so dry it was difficult to moisten the seal, but he managed somehow or other.

"You never wrote truer words in your life," I said, taking the paper, and the seal as well, and examining both of them carefully, keeping him well covered the while, to see that he had played me no tricks in his writing.

"What next?" he asked.

"Go into yonder room." I pointed to the bedchamber.

"I have done what you asked, you would not murder me now? The laws of war require that a hostage be kindly entreated and..."

"I intend to lock you there until I have seen the King. Go!"

Seeing no help for it, he rose to his feet and entered the room, followed by me and Macleod. Jeffreys continued to protest, but I silenced him with that wonderfully bright persuader in my hand.

"Now that I have the letter," said I, "I care little whether you are alive or dead, and, for the toss of a coin, I would rid the world of you. But I am not a judge; being only a poor soldier, I'll keep faith with you. Your life depends entirely upon your absolute obedience; I must bind you securely."

He said no more, but suffered himself to be bound without resistance. Macleod had brought plenty of rope; we lashed him until he was as immobile as an iron bar; then we picked him up and laid him on the bed and, with what remained of the rope, secured him so that he could not move about or roll off to the floor.

"You will be enlarged, doubtless, in the morning," said I. "I wish some of Monmouth's friends and followers whom you hounded to death could see you now."

"For God's sake," he gasped, "if you must leave me this way, give me a draught of wine!"

"Nay," I replied smilingly. "Here is something that will suit your thirst and dry humour much better."

I crammed into his huge mouth, which he had opened gaspingly to protest, a soiled towel which I took from the wash-stand. I rammed it in hard and, with a piece torn from the sheet, I bound it down around his head and neck. I thought my lord's veins would burst in his forehead, he grew so purple.

"A pleasant night to you," said I. "And may the love of your King secure your release in the morning."

We extinguished the candles, went out into the large room, and closed the door. In a voice that Jeffreys within could easily hear, I said to my man:

"You will stay here on this side of the door until I send for you in the morning. If the prisoner by chance should get free of his bonds, or should fall from his bed, or should make any outcry, go in and kill him without further delay. You understand?"

"I do, sir, and it shall be as you wish," he answered loudly.

Macleod ostentatiously drew a chair up in front of the door and then, as I had need of him and could not leave him there, he rose from the chair and noiselessly followed me down the room. We extinguished the lights in the outer chamber, and, having locked all doors, took the keys with us. We had but little fear, unless some alarm was given, but that the Lord Chief Justice would be quite safe for the night, and that he was going to pass such night as he had never passed before. We waited to see the landlord, and I bestowed upon him some more of King James' his guineas. I showed him the letter sealed with Lord Jeffreys' seal. He could not read it, but he recognised the signet.

"I know that seal full well," he said, entirely satisfied by it.

"My Lord Jeffreys hath retired for the night, and upon no chance is he to be disturbed until morning, unless I should come back or send. He doth not wish the lady you know to be sent for."

"I understand," he said knowingly. He was a wise and understanding landlord indeed!

"The door is locked behind us," I added, "and, if you value your life, keep away from it and keep others away as well."

"Your excellency shall be obeyed."

By this time Macleod and the hostler of the Inn had brought around the horses again. We mounted them once more and cantered down the street until we struck the river road. So far everything had gone without a hitch. The King lay at Stenwold House; my wife had been recently brought there. Access to him would be difficult, doubtless, but I now had means to open the gate and pass the guard. Once inside it would go hard if I did not effect Katharine's release.

If Clanranald had succeeded in his part of the plan all would be well. He ought not to be more than five hours behind the brigantine, I thought. As we got away from the houses, we eagerly searched the sea, and sure enough, between the far-away lighthouses on either side of the river-mouth, there was a vessel. It was so dark we could not have seen her had she not carried three lights set in a triangle, a red one at the top! Clanranald was on time. The tide now approaching full flood, he ought to be abreast Stenwold House in a few hours. We set spurs to our horses and dashed on rapidly.