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The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 2. Sir Morton Receives His Guest

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_ CHAPTER TWO. SIR MORTON RECEIVES HIS GUEST

"Father can't be pleased," thought the lad, as he hurried in through a heavy oaken door, strengthened by the twisted and scrolled iron bands of the huge hinges, and studded with great-headed nails. This yielded heavily, as, seizing a ring which moved a lever, he raised the heavy latch, and for a moment, as he passed through, he hesitated about closing the door again upon the group below. But as he glanced at the party, he hesitated no longer. Their appearance begat no confidence, and the great latch clicked directly.

The next minute, he was hurrying along a dark stone passage, to spring up a few more stairs, leading into a corridor with a polished oaken floor, and mullioned windows looking down upon the courtyard; and as he reached the second, a bright, handsome girl, whose features proclaimed sisterhood, started out to meet him.

"Oh Ralph," she said, "who are those dreadful-looking men you have brought up?"

"Don't stop me, Min," he said hastily. "Old soldiers who want to see father. Where is he?"

"In his room."

The lad hurried on, and entered through a door way on his left, to where, in an oaken-panelled room, a stern, slightly grey, military-looking man sat poring over an old book, but looked up directly the lad entered.

"Ah, Ralph, boy," he said; "been out?"

"Only on the cliff, father," cried the lad hastily. "Visitors."

"Visitors? Nonsense! I expect no visitors. Who are they?"

"Captain Purlrose and his men."

"Purlrose!" cried Sir Morton, with a look of angry disgust. "Here?"

"Yes, father," said Ralph, watching keenly the impression made by his words. "Waiting at the foot of the steps."

"Bah! I thought the drunken, bullying scoundrel was dead and gone years ago. Hung or shot, for he deserved either."

"Hah!" ejaculated the lad, with a sigh of relief. "Then you are not glad to see him, father?"

"Glad to see him? Are you mad, boy?"

"No, father," said the lad, with a merry laugh. "I hope not; but he said you would be, and that you were old brothers-in-arms, and that he longed to grip you by the hand; and he tried to hug me, and shed tears, and flattered me, and said all sorts of things."

"Pah! the same as of old; but you said--and his men."

"Yes, about a dozen like him; ruffianly-looking, rag-bags of fellows, all armed, and looking like a gang of bullies and robbers."

Sir Morton frowned, rose from his seat, and walked to the side of the room, where his sword and belt lay in front of a bookcase.

"Well, I suppose I must see the fellow. He served under me, years ago, Ralph, and I suppose he has come begging, unless he sees a chance to steal."

"Then I was not unjust, father, in thinking ill of the man and disliking him."

"Unjust? Pah! The fellow was a disgrace to the name of soldier; and now, I suppose, that there is no war on the way, he has been discharged from the king's service, with a pack of his companions."

"He said he had saved your life, father."

Sir Morton laughed contemptuously. "I have no recollection of the fact, Ralph, boy, and I don't think I should have forgotten so important a matter; but I do recollect saving his, by interceding when he was about to be shot for plundering some helpless people. There; let him and a couple of his men come in. The poor wretch is in a bad state, I suppose, and I will give him something to help him on his road."

Ralph went to the door, but turned back, hesitating.

"Well, my boy?" said his father.

"Had I not better tell some of the men to arm, and be ready?" asked the lad.

"What! Nonsense, boy! I know my man. He would not dare to be insolent."

"But he has a dangerous-looking gang of fellows with him."

"Of the same kind as himself, Ralph. Have no fear of that. If there were real danger, we could soon summon a dozen stout men to deal with him and his party. But, as I said, let him only bring in two or three with him."

Ralph hurried out, and found the captain and his men forming a picturesque group about the stone steps; and as soon as he appeared, the former swung himself round, and threw his cloak over his shoulder, with a swaggering gesture.

"Hallo, my young eagle," he cried. "What saith the parent bird, the gallant lord of the castle?"

"My father will see you, sir," replied Ralph. "This way."

"Aha! I knew he would," cried the man, giving his steel cap a cock over on one side, and displaying a large pink patch of his bald head. "Come on, brave boys."

"Stop!" cried Ralph quickly. "Three of you, only, are to accompany your leader."

"Eh? What?" cried the captain fiercely, as a low murmur arose.

"That is what my father said, sir."

"What does this mean?" cried the man theatrically. "Separate me from my brave companions-in-arms? Does this mean treachery, young sir?"

"Treachery? Why should it mean that?" cried Ralph stoutly, as the man's words endorsed the character so lately given of him. "If," argued Ralph to himself, "the fellow were the honest, brave soldier, why should he fear treachery from the brother-officer with whom he said he had often shared danger?"

"The world is full of wickedness, boy," replied the captain; "and I have often been misjudged. But there; a brave man never knows fear. You three come with me, and if in half an hour I do not come back, boys, you know what to do."

There was a shout at this, and hands struck sword-hilts with a loud clang.

"Right, brave boys, and don't leave one stone upon another until you have found your captain."

Ralph burst out into a fit of laughter, and then felt annoyed with himself, as the man turned round scowling.

"What do you mean by that, boy?"

"That your men would have their work cut out, sir," said Ralph sharply. "This way, please."

The captain uttered a low growl, signed to three of his men, and the party followed the lad, who, to his annoyance, once more came across his sister, hurrying along the passage.

"Salute, brave boys, salute," cried the captain. "Youth and beauty in front--the worship of the gallant soldiers of the king."

He struck an attitude, which was roughly imitated by the men.

"A sister, on my life," cried the captain.

"This way," said Ralph shortly, and with the colour coming into his cheeks, as he felt indignant with the man for daring to notice his sister, and angry with her for being there.

The door of Sir Morton's room was thrown open, and the captain strode in, followed by his men; and, as he saw the knight, standing with his back to the fireplace, he struck a fresh attitude.

"Ah! at last!" he cried. "My old brave companion-in-arms! Well met, once more."

He stretched out his hands, and swaggered forward to grasp Sir Morton's.

"Halt!" cried that gentleman sharply, without stirring from his position. "Now, Captain Purlrose, what is your business with me?"

"Business with you? Is this my reception, after long years of absence? Ah, I see! The war-worn soldier forgotten once again. Ah, Sir Morton Darley, why humble me before my gallant men?"

"I have not forgotten you, Captain Purlrose. I remember you perfectly, and you are not changed in the least. Now, if you please, be brief, and explain your business."

"My business! I thought I was coming to an old friend and brother."

"No, sir; you thought nothing of the kind. Come, you know I understand you thoroughly. State your business, if you please."

The three men laughed aloud, and Sir Morton, who had not before noticed them, turned upon them sharply, with the result that the laughter died out, and they looked uncomfortable.

"And this before my men! Humbled thus! Have I fallen so low?"

"You are wasting words, Captain Purlrose; and, as you have found where I lived, and have evidently journeyed long, tell me at once why you have come."

"I will," cried the captain, resuming his swaggering air. "I, as an old soldier, sir, came to ask favours of no man."

"Then why have you come, sir, if not to ask a favour?"

"I was passing this way, and, as an old brother-in-arms lived here, I thought I would call."

"You were not passing this way, sir; no brother-in-arms lived here, but an officer, under whom you once served; and you had some object in view to make you cross our desolate moors," said Sir Morton, sternly. "If you want help, speak out."

"I am no beggar, Sir Morton Darley," said the man, in blustering tones.

"I am glad to hear it. Now, then, what is it?"

"Well, sir, you boast of knowing me thoroughly. Let me tell you that I know you, and your position here."

"And find it is in every respect a strong one, sir. Well?"

"You live here, close at hand to an enemy who covets your lands, and with whom you have fought again and again. You and your ancestors were always enemies with the Edens."

"Quite right, sir. Well, what is that to you?"

"This, Sir Morton Darley. The war is over. I and my brave fellows are idle, our swords rusting in their sheaths."

"More shame to the brave fellows who do not keep their weapons bright. Well, this is a long preamble to tell me that you have all been dismissed from the king's service. Go on."

The captain stared and scowled, but he could not fully meet the searching eyes which looked him down.

"Well," he said, rather blunderingly now, "knowing what I did of my old officer's state--"

"'Old officer' is better, Captain Purlrose. Go on, sir."

"I said, here am I, a brave soldier, with a handful of stout followers, eager to do good, honest work; why should I not go and offer my sword to Sir Morton Darley? He is sorely pressed."

"Wrong," said Sir Morton.

"He would be glad of our help," continued the man, without heeding the interruption; "we could garrison his castle and help him to drive his enemy from the field. Twelve of them, all well-tried soldiers, who can make him king of the country round. That, sir, is why I have come, to confer a favour more than ask one. Now, sir, what do you say? Such a chance for you may never occur again."

"Hah!" ejaculated Sir Morton; "and all this out of pure good fellowship!"

"Of course; save that a retainer who risks his life in his chief's service is worthy of his hire."

"Naturally, sir. So that is your meaning--your object in coming?"

"That is it, Sir Morton. We can put your castle in a state of defence, make raids, and harass the enemy, fetch in stores from the surrounding country, and make you a great man. Think of how you can humble the Edens."

Sir Morton frowned as he looked back at the past, and then from thence up to his present position, one in which he felt that he played a humble part in presence of his stronger enemy; and Ralph watched him, read in his face that he was about to accept his visitor's proposal, and with a feeling of horror at the thought of such a gang being hired to occupy a part of the castle, and brought, as it were, into a kind of intimacy, he turned quickly to his father, laid his hand upon his arm, and whispered eagerly:

"Father, pray, pray don't do this. They are a terribly villainous set of ruffians."

The captain twitched his big ears in his efforts to catch what was said; but he could only hear enough to make out that the son was opposing the plans, and he scowled fiercely at the lad.

"Wait, wait," said Sir Morton.

"But do go out and look at the rest of the men, father," whispered Ralph.

"There is no need."

"Then you will not agree, father?"

"Most certainly not, my boy."

Purlrose could not catch all this, but he scowled again.

"Look here, young cockerel," he cried, "don't you try and set my old officer against me."

"No need," said Sir Morton hotly.

"Ah, that's because hard times have made me and my poor gallant fellows look a little shabby."

"Not that, sir. Your old character stands in your way."

"Oh, this is hard--this is hard. You rich, and with everything comfortable, while I am poor, and unrewarded for all my labour and risk by an ungrateful Scot."

"Don't insult your sovereign, sir!" cried Sir Morton.

"Oh, this is hard--this is hard."

"Look here, Michael Purlrose, if you had been an officer and a gentleman in distress, I would have helped you."

"Do you mean to say that I am not an officer, and a gentleman in distress, sir?" cried the captain, clapping his hand to the hilt of his sword, a movement imitated by Ralph, angrily. But Sir Morton stood back, unmoved.

"Let your sword alone, boy," he said sternly. "You, Michael Purlrose, knowing you as I do of old, for a mouthing, cowardly bully, do you think that I am going to be frightened by your swagger? Yes, I tell you that you are no gentleman."

"Oh, this is too much," cried the visitor. "It is enough to make me call in my men."

"Indeed!" said Sir Morton coolly. "Why call them in to hear me recapitulate your disgrace? As to your appeals to me for help, and your claim, which you profess to have upon me, let me remind you that you were engaged as a soldier of fortune, and well paid for your services, though you and yours disgraced the royal army by your robberies and outrages. All you gained you wasted in riot and drunkenness, and now that you are suffering for your follies, you come and make claims upon me."

"Oh, this is too hard upon a poor soldier who has bled in his country's service. Did I not once save your life, when you were at your last gasp?"

"No, sir; it was the other way on. I saved yours, and when I was surrounded, and would have been glad of your help, you ran away."

"Ha-ha-ha!" cried Ralph, bursting into a roar of laughter.

"Ah-h-ah!" cried the captain fiercely, as he half drew his sword; but he drove it back with a loud clang into its sheath directly. "Stay there, brave blade, my only true and trusted friend. He is the son of my old companion-in-arms, and I cannot draw upon a boy."

Ralph laughed aloud again, and the captain scowled, and rolled his eyes fiercely; but he did not startle the lad in the least, and after a long, fierce stare, the man turned to Sir Morton.

"Don't be hard upon an old brother-soldier, Morton Darley," he said.

"No, I will not," said Sir Morton quietly. "You and your men can refresh yourselves in the hall, and when you start on your way, I will give you a pound or two to help you."

"Oh, as if I were a common wayside beggar. Comrade, this is too hard. Can you not see that my beard is getting grizzled and grey?"

"Yes; but I do not see what that has to do with it."

"Think again, old comrade. Twelve brave and true men have I with me. Take us as your gentlemen and men at arms to protect you and yours against those who are unfriendly. You must have enemies."

Sir Morton started and glanced at his son, for these words touched a spring in his breast. With thirteen fighting men to increase his little force, what might he not do? The Edens' stronghold, with its regularly coming-in wealth, must fall before him; and, once in possession, Sir Edward Eden might petition and complain; but possession was nine points of the law, and the king had enough to do without sending a force into their wild out-of-the-way part of the world to interfere. Once he had hold of the Black Tor, he could laugh at the law, and see the old enemy of his house completely humbled.

Sir Morton hesitated and turned his head, to find his son watching him keenly, while Captain Purlrose stood with his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword, making the scabbard cock out behind, and lift up the back of his ragged cloak, as with his right he twisted up and pointed one side of his rusty-grey fierce moustache.

The man was watching Sir Morton keenly, and his big ears twitched, as he tried to catch the whispered words which passed between father and son.

"What do you say, Ralph, lad? With the help of these men I could easily make Eden bite the dust. Then the Black Tor would be mine, and afterwards yours; with all the rich revenue to be drawn from the lead-mine. It is very tempting, boy."

"Yes, father," said the boy hotly, and his face flushed as he spoke; "but that's what it is--a miserable temptation. We'll humble the Edens, and have the Black Tor and the lead-mine; but we'll win all with our swords like gentlemen, or fail. We could not go and take the place with a set of ruffians like those outside, and helped by such a man as yonder bully. You couldn't do it, father. Say no."

"Hah! More insults," cried Purlrose, who had caught a word here and there. "But no; lie still, good sword: he is a beardless boy, and the son of the brave comrade I always honoured, whate'er my faults."

Ralph turned upon him angrily; but his father laid a hand upon the boy's shoulder, and pressed it hard.

"Right, Ralph, lad," he said warmly, and he looked proudly in the boy's eyes. "I could not do it in that way."

"Hah!" ejaculated the lad, with a sigh of content.

"No, Purlrose," continued Sir Morton. "I shall not avail myself of your services. Go into the hall and refresh yourself and your men. Come to me afterward, and I will help you as I said."

"With a mouthful of bread, and a few pence, and after all this weary journey across these wild moors. But I see: it is all through the words of this beardless boy. Suppose I tell you that, now I have come, I mean to stay?" he added threateningly.

"Shall I get the men together, father?" said Ralph quickly.

"No, boy, there is no need," said Sir Morton firmly. "I am not afraid of Michael Purlrose's threats."

"What!" cried the man. "You do not know me yet."

"Better than you know yourself, sir," said Sir Morton, rising. "That is the way to the hall. Have the goodness to go first."

The captain threw his cloak back over his right shoulder, slapped his right hand heavily upon his rusty breast-plate, and then, with a flourish, caught at the hilt of his sword, and again half drew it from its sheath, to stand scowling at Ralph, the intentness of his gaze seeming to affect his eyes, so that they began to lean towards each other, as if for help, till his look became a villainous squint. Then, as neither father nor son quailed before him, he uttered a loud "Hah!" thrust back his sword, and strode with a series of stamps to the door, his high, buff-leather boots rustling and creaking the while.

There he faced round.

"I give you one more chance, Morton Darley," he cried. "Yes or no?"

"No," said Sir Morton firmly.

"One moment before it is too late. Are we to be friends or foes?"

"Neither," shouted Ralph quickly.

"Yes, boy, one or the other. You, Morton Darley, will you take me into your service, or do you drive me into going straight to your rival and enemy, who will jump at my offer, and pay me better than I could expect of you?"

"Go where you please, sir," said Sir Morton.

"Ah, you drive me to it, when I would have been your friend. There, it must be so; but don't blame me when you are humbled in the dust."

"Why, if you go there," cried Ralph, "Sir Edward Eden will make his men disarm your crew of ragged Jacks, and set you all to work in his mine."

"What! Never. Now, Darley, once more--friends or foes?"

"Neither, I tell you, man. Now leave my place at once, you and yours. I will neither help you nor have any further dealings with you. Go."

"What!" roared Purlrose; and this time he drew his sword fully, and Ralph's bright blade followed suit, glittering, while the captain's looked rusty and dull.

"Pooh! put up your sword, Ralph," said Sir Morton, advancing toward their visitor, who began to shrink back. "Sheathe your blade, sir," he said sternly, and without paying the least attention to the man's bullying looks, he threw open the door, and pointed to the entrance.

He passed out, giving the door behind him a heavy slam, and marched out to the group standing about the broad steps and road, where father and son could hear him haranguing his men, who immediately burst into an angry yell, and for the most part turned menacingly toward the house. _

Read next: Chapter 3. About The Enemy

Read previous: Chapter 1. One Captain Purlrose

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