University of Virginia Library

13. CHAPTER XIII.

Adam Bell.

Old Song.

It was nine o'clock of the morning before Dauntrees
and his companions, Garret and Arnold, rose
from their beds. Pamesack, whose taciturnity was
not greater than his indifference to fatigue, had, at
an earlier hour, gone his way. A breakfast was
provided in the Captain's quarters, and the three
heroes of the past night sat down to it with a relish
which showed that, however unfit they might be to
contend against spiritual foes, their talents for this

encounter of material existences were highly respectable.

“You have had a busy time of it in dreams, Master
Weasel,” said Dauntrees, since you laid yourself
down on your truckle bed this morning. You have
been re-acting your exploits at the Chapel. I heard
you at daylight crying aloud for sword and dagger.”

“I warrant you, Captain Dauntrees,” replied the
publican, “my head has been full of fantasies since I
laid me down to rest—for I was exceeding weary—
and weariness doth set the brain to ramble in sleep.
There was good argument, too, in our deeds at St.
Jerome's for a world of dreaming.”

“Ah, the night has made a man of you, my gallant
vintner. You should bless your stars that you
fell into such worthy company. You knew not heretofore—even
with your experience at Worcester—
what elements of valour it pleased Heaven to mix up
in the mould whereof thou wert made. A man never
sufficiently values himself until he has had some such
passage as this.”

“Ay, and look you, Captain Dauntrees,” said
Garret, his eye flashing with self-gratulation, “you
will reflect that I had the brunt of it alone, whilst
you three were banded together for common defence
and support. There I was, by my single self, in the
very centre of them. A man needs more comfort
and companionship in a matter with witches and
devils, than he does against your sword and buckler
fellows. Tut! I wouldn't have cared a fig for a foe
that could be struck at; but these pestilent things of

the dark—hags on besoms, and flying bats as big as
a man, great sword-fishes walking on legs, with their
screechings, and mopings, and mewings—Lord, Lord,
how it tries the reins of a solitary man! But you had
flashing and firing, and charging, Captain, which is
more in the way of what one expects in a fight, and
one is prepared for: it has life in it.”

“That is most true, doughty Garret. A culverin
is but the whiff of an oaten pipe, compared with a
hag upon her broomstick. Thou wert ever the man
to encounter these women. It needs thy mettle to
face them. Now there is thy wife, Master Weasel—
oh, but that is a perilous venture in store for thee!
You shall go to her and have it over, whilst I make
my report to his Lordship; when that is done I will
straight for the Crow and Archer, to help you in the
battle, which by that time will doubtless find you sore
at need.”

“I must go to his Lordship with you,” replied
Garret, in a lowered key; “I must have my hand in
the report; after that we will set out together for
the inn.”

“Why, man!” exclaimed Dauntrees, with affected
astonishment, “would you tarry to do your duty to
Mistress Dorothy? Do you not know that she hath
suffered agony of mind the live-long night in your
behalf, and that she is now in the very tempest of her
affection waiting for you?”

“I know it, I know it, worthy Captain; but it doth
not become my respect for Lord Charles's service to
defer his business for mine own.”

“Thou shalt not budge an inch,” said Dauntrees,
“on any other path than that which takes thee quickly
to thy loving wife.”

“Truly, Captain,” replied Weasel, in a dolorous
tone, “I would have thee to go with me; I beseech
you heartily, allow me to bear you company to his
Lordship. His Lordship will think it strange I did
not come: and it will take more than me to pacify
the dame.”

“Well, friend Weasel, in consideration that you
contended single handed last night with a whole score
of devils, and bore thee gallantly; and, moreover, as
it is such heavy odds against thee in this matter of
Dame Dorothy—for, of a verity, I know she is in a
devil of a passion at thy contumacy, and not less at
mine, I'll be sworn—why we will make a muster of it
and breathe our defence in solid column. Arnold
will go with us. And mark me, Vintner, at the fitting
time, we shall regale.”

“On the best in cellar or larder at the Crow and
Archer,” replied Garret. “You have the word of a
man and a soldier for it.”

“I wot of a woman and no soldier, whose word
would go further to that bargain, Garret, than yours.
Make ready, friends, we must move.”

Dauntrees now set his beaver jauntily over his
brow, and throwing his short cloak across his arm,
marched through the postern of the fort, followed by
his trusty allies, to the mansion of the Lord Proprietor.

Lord Baltimore received them in his library, and
there heard from the Captain a circumstantial narrative
of the events of the preceding night.

“It is a strange tale,” he said, “and may well perplex
the faith of the simple rustics of the province.
That evil spirits preside over that blood-stained house,
from your testimony, Captain Dauntrees, may no
longer be denied. Friends, you all saw these things?”

“All,” said Garret Weasel, with emphatic solemnity
as he straitened his body even beyond the perpendicular
line. “Pamesack and Arnold stood by
the Captain and can vouch for him. I maintained
a post of danger, an please your Lordship, alone;
what I saw neither the Captain, Arnold, nor Pamesack,
saw—it was a fearful sight.”

“What was it?” inquired the Proprietary, with
some earnestness.

“A woman,” replied Garret, “seemingly a woman,
an your Lordship comprehends: but in truth a witch,
as we all do know:—Kate of Warrington, of whom
your Lordship has heard. She it was who came suddenly
down upon the wold. How she came,” here
Garret shook his head, “and what came with her,—
it was a sight to look upon!”

“The vintner affirms to sundry fantastic shapes of
imps and spectres in company with the woman of
Warrington,” said Dauntrees. “We saw nothing of
the hag, having left Master Weasel, some distance in
our rear when we visited the Chapel. He was cold,
and required comfort. What he recounts, my Lord,
you have his own avouch for.”

“And what say you, Arnold?” inquired his Lordship,
smiling.

“These ghosts and goblins keep a hot house, and
the less we have to do with them the better,” replied
the forester, gravely.

“They fired upon you, Captain?” said the Proprietary;
“with what weapons?”

“They had the sharp crack of the musket and
pistol, replied Dauntrees, “or what seemed to be such:
yet I would not swear I saw carnal weapons in the
strife, though in the flash I thought I noted fire arms.
This may tell better than guess of mine, my Lord,”
he added, as he held up his cloak and pointed to a
rent in one of its folds; “this hole was made by some
missive from the house: whether it be a bullet mark
or an elf-shot, I will not say.”

“Body o' me!” exclaimed Garret Weasel, as the
Captain pointed to the damage he had sustained, “I
knew not this before. There was hot work, I warrant.”

“There is knavery in alliance with this sorcery,”
said the Proprietary, as he examined the cloak.
“These wicked spirits ever find kindred amongst
men. They have profligate companions of flesh to
profit by their devilish arts. I thank you, friends,
kindly, for this venture, and will turn it to wholesome
account hereafter. Fare you well.”

The party left the room, and now shaping their
course towards the Crow and Archer, soon descended
below the bank and took the road along the beach.

Whilst they trudged through the sand and gravel,
midway between the fort and the town, Dauntrees,
looking behind, saw a figure descending on horseback

from the main gate of the fort down to the road
upon which they now travelled. It was that of a
woman, whose gestures, at the distance of half a mile,
were sufficiently observable to show that she urged
her horse forward with impatient earnestness. As
soon as she arrived at the level of the beach, her
speed was increased nearly to the utmost of the faculty
of the animal which bore her, and she now
came flying over the sand, with her garments and
loose tresses floating in the wind.

“In the devil's name, what have we here?” exclaimed
Dauntrees. “As I live, it is our queen of the
hostel! Oh, Garret, Garret, here is a volcano! Here
is an out-come with a conclusion at hand! Stand,
masters, firmly on your legs, and brace up for the
onset!”

“Alack, alack!” groaned the publican; “the woman
is bereft. She hath my nag from the fort.”

“Ay, and rides upon your saddle, as if it were
made for her,” ejaculated the Captain. “Take post
behind me, Garret: I will answer her speech.”

“It were no more than the luck she deserves,”
said Garret, pettishly, “if she should fall from the
nag and break her little finger, or at the least sprain
an ancle-joint.”

“Hold, runagates! varlets! out upon you for a
filthy Captain!” shouted the dame, in a shrill voice,
as she came within call of the party, and now galloped
up to the spot at which they had halted. “Give
me that idiot from your beastly company. Garret

Weasel, Garret Weasel! you have been the death of
me!”

“Good lack, Mistress Dorothy, wife, why dost thou
bear thyself in such a sort as this?”

“I will bare thee to the buff, driveller, for this.
Are you not steeped in wickedness and abomination
by evil-consorting with this copper Captain, and this
most horrid wood ranger? Hast no eye for thy
family; no regard for good name, that you must be
strolling o' nights with every pot-guzzler and foul-breathed
and cankered cast-off of the wars? I am
ashamed of thee. You have been in your cups, I
warrant, the live-long night.”

“Dame, I must speak, now,” said Dauntrees.

“Thou, thou!” interrupted the hostess, with her
face scarlet from anger. “Never in a Christian
land should such as thou be permitted to lift thy head
before honest people. His Lordship would do but
justice to the province to chain thee up in a dark
stable, as a bull which may not be trusted at large.
Did you not beguile me last night with a base lie?
Did you not practice upon me, you faithless, false-hearted
coward?” here tears fell from the flashing
eyes of the voluble landlady. “Did you not steal
that lob, my husband, from me, thief?”

“Appearances, dame,” replied the Captain, with a
grave composure, “if they might be trusted, were
certainly to my disfavour last night. But then, I
knew that when this matter was all over, I had a most
sufficient and excellent reason, which a considerate,
virtuous, and tender-hearted woman like yourself

would fully approve, when she came to hear it.
There was matter in hand of great import and
urgency; no revelling, dame—no riot—but brave service,
enjoined by his Lordship, and which it was his
Lordship's most earnest desire should be committed
in part to thy husband. It was an action of pith and
bravery he had on hand; and his Lordship being well
aware, dame, that Garret's wife was a woman of a
loving heart, and gentle withal in her nature, and not
fitted to endure the wringing of her affection by such
a trial as the adventure imposed upon Garret, he
charged me to make some light pretext for withdrawing
thy husband from thine eye, which, by fraud, I
confess, I did, and am now—since Garret hath
worthily achieved his most perilous duty—here to
avow my own treachery. There is promotion and
great advantage at hand for this which will set up
thy head, dame, the highest amongst them that wear
hoods.”

“We have barely escaped with our lives, Mistress
Dorothy,” said Weasel, in a whining accent of deprecation;
“we should be made much of and praised for
our duty, not be set upon with taunts and foul rebukes;
and when you know all, wife, you will be
sorry for this wounding of our good name.”

“This is but another trick,” said the landlady.

“Nay, good mistress,” interrupted the Captain, “I
will agree to be gibbeted by thine own fair hand, if
I do not satisfy thee that in this adventure we are deserving
of all applause. The Lieutenant at the fort,

doubtless, told thee that we were absent last night on
special duty at his Lordship's command?”

“The varlet did feign such a story, when I thought
to catch this fool in thy company. And he would
deny me, too, the nag; but I brought such coil about
his ears that he was glad to give me the beast and set
all gates open. Where do you say you have spent
the night?”

“At the Black Chapel, mistress,” said Weasel, with
a most portentous solemnity of speech: “at the Black
Chapel, by his Lordship's order; and, oh, the sights
we have seen! and the time we have had of it, wife!
it would make thy blood freeze to hear it.”

“On the honour of a soldier, dame! by the faith
of this right hand!” said Dauntrees, as he offered it
to the hostess and took her's, “I swear this is true.
We have had a night of wonders, which you shall
hear in full when the time suits. We are on our way
now to the Crow and Archer, for thine especial gratification.”

“Can this be true, Arnold?” inquired the mollified
and bewildered landlady. “I will believe what you
say.”

“You may trust in every word of it, as I am a
Christian man. There be marvellous doings at the
Black Chapel. We have seen spirits and devils in
company.”

“It is graver matter, wife, than you wot of,” said
Weasel.

“Ride forward, dame,” added Dauntrees; “you
shall see us soon at the hostel. And I promise you

shall have the story, too, of the Mercer's Wife from
beginning to end: you shall dame.”

“You are a wheedling, cogging cheat, Captain;
thy roguery will have a melancholy end yet,” replied
the dame, as she now rode forward with a sunshiny
smile playing upon features which but a few moments
before were dark with storm.

When they reached the Crow and Archer they
found a group of traders assembled on the quay, gazing
with a busy speculation towards the mouth of
the river. By degrees the crowd increased, and
the rumour soon spread abroad that the Olive
Branch was in sight. A vessel was, indeed, discernible
across the long flat of St. Inigoe's, just entering
the river, and those who professed a knowledge
of nautical affairs had no scruple in announcing her
as the brigantine of Cocklescraft. She was apparently
an active craft, belonging to the smaller class
of sea-vessels, and manifestly a faster sailer than was
ordinarily to be seen at that period. A fair and
fresh breeze impelled her steadily towards her haven,
and as she bounded over the glittering waters, the
good folks of the little city were seen clustering in
knots on every prominent cliff along the high bank,
and counting the minutes which brought this messenger
from the old world nearer to their salutation.

Meantime the Olive Branch began to show the
sparkling foam which broke upon her bow; then to
give forth voices from her deck, audible to the crowd;
presently to lower sail; and at last, being stripped to
her bare poles and naked rigging, she glided with

lessening speed, slower and slower, until her extended
cable showed that her anchor was dropt and her
voyage at an end.

It was past noon when the brig came to her mooring,
opposite the Town House wharf, and after a
brief interval, Cocklescraft, arrayed as we have before
seen him, except that he had changed his sombrero
for a tasseled cap of cloth, landed on the quay,
and soon became the lion of the Crow and Archer.