Heralds of Empire

d my schooling. I was set to learning the my

nts, Ramsay?" he questioned so

nglish court when I came of age, and the air of

spleasure, "I get as much as I can-and I give as little as I c

tionable. There was no sound but the drone of the loom till I slipped from the room. Then they both began to talk. Soon after came transfer from the counting-hous

home from the north sea, so topful of spray

next year! I'll take the boat without commission. Stocking and my fat

led for't, if the Fren

the elders heard, "who's going to inform when my father sails the only other ship in the bay? Devil sink

own," I laughed.

t as a cork, come back loaded with Spanish gold to the water-line." Ben p

on Bay with pelts packed to the quarter-deck. Devil sink me! but they say, after the fur sale, the gentlemen adventurers had to haul the gold through London streets w

ut-purse and road-lifter for a youth

uised with any vagrant craft for the winter. When he came ashore he was as small

had grown mighty demure with me. When I laughed over that ending to our last lesson, she must affect an air of injury. 'Twas neither her fault nor mine, I declare, coaxing back her good-humour; 'twas the fault of the face. I wanted to see where the

not take your eyes off th

turning her face away with a dimple trembl

andsome to be sound in

she must ask which heading o

eclare; and with that,

e to our country hall. M. Picot himself took her on the grand tour of the Continent. How muc

like the flash of a black diamond. Her form appeared slender against the long, flowing mantilla shot with gold like any grand dame's. She wore a white beaver

d beard, eyebrows of a fierce curlicue, and an expression under half-shut lid

eave to welcome her back by saluting the tips of her gloved fingers. She asked

Ramsay?" remarks M. Picot wit

e life for a gentleman of spirit. Why didn't I join the beaver trade of Hudson Bay? And did I know

rading like Radisson instead of pounding pestle

se, for he drew back to his shell like a pricked snail. Obse

up sharp. 'Twas none of my affair; and yet, in spite of resolves, it daily became more of my affair. Do what I would, spending part of every day with Rebecca, that image of lustrous eyes under the white beaver, the plume nodding above the curls, the slender figure outlined against the gold-shot mantil

was as heartily hated for it as the little m

or, churning up and down on a blowing nag. Once I had the good luck to restore a dropped gauntlet before the blackamoor could come. With eyes alight she threw me a flashing thanks and was off, a sunbeam

but this time s

e doctor's house that night, M. P

her chuffy cheeks were red as pippins, reported that one day when she had gone for simples she had seen strange, dead things in the jars of M. Picot's dispensary. At this I laughed as Rebecca told it me, and old Tibbie winked behind

ebecca; though what connection that ha

ns," says Rebecca, with that air of injur

low-bred mongrel mischief-maker!" c

your tongue and drop an a

must needs put some curb on her royalist tongue, wh

o have him bind up a splintered wrist, and he invited me to stay for a round of pi

ould not see her. You ma

h! pish!" he added, seeing our faces crimson; "come away," and he carried me off to th

to the fur trade and wanted to know whether I would be willi

go to the north. An it were not for Hortense, I'd hir

tell him that I meant to try

at I said, gazing absently a

for a girl," he muttered, pul

the court,

osite of his words. "An you incline to the court, learn the tr

ling as though my going to t

t find a maste

M. Picot. "I'll teach you, and

ich he said Mistress Hortense had brought back as of the latest French fashion. The blackamoor drew close the iron shutters; for, though those in the world must know the ways of the world, worldling practices were a sad offence to New England. Shoving the furnishings a

use. "Are you son o' the Stanhope

that

tense to me; and he told me of Blood, the freebooter, who stole the king's crown but won royal fav

parry that M. Picot knew. Once when I bungled a foul lunge, which M. Picot said was a habit

exclaims M. Pico

murmurs Hortens

ds; and when I lost too steadily M. Picot broke out: "Pish, boy, your

go mull us a

itch! Up yet? Late ho

er saw her alone but once. 'Twas the ni

t Deliverance Dobbins was "a-goin'

I, "she used to have d

der she had dumps on that turnstile

msy, wooden cupids floundering all about the tall head-rest. Her face was alight in soft-

an Hortense, catching

of those old da

," said

ey could c

ck more: "I suppose, Ramsay, you would want to

want to stand us all on

skill with the lyre as with the sword. She had heard that I w

ked to the notes of the old madrigal like the p

behold the r

amask mantles, d

our lips where sw

x me with a do

be your lips, or y

e spinet, and, changing the words to suit her saucy fancy, trill

wasting

e--_Rebecc

le my chee

becca's_ r

e!" I pr

fairer th

e-field coi

be not s

I how _fin

inty lady played her stops. As the song faded to the last tinkling notes of the spinet her fingers took to touching low, tuneless melodies like thoughts creeping into thoughts, or

ry enough for

uncovered all the blaze of the

one giddy in flame, "your naughty music wake

e, beginning to play fiercely, striki

nse,"

Hortense, janglin

s!-Hort

Picot, hastier tha

t under eyes to-morrow! Bed, little baggage! Forget

way an older

at frump and her fits! Bad blood, Ramsay; low-bred, low-bred! 'Tis ever the way of her kind to blab of aches and stuffed stomachs that were well if left emp

rode up, Rebecca stood at our gate. She had no smile. Had I not been thinking of another, I had noticed the sadness of her face; but when she moved back a

sorcery! M. Picot is like to be hanged! An they do not confess, they may be set in

e t

t neither more nor less than torture till confession were wrung from ago

hurting-you are c

would have said stuck fast behind sealed lip

n his house. She went to spy. He hath cra

t of M. Picot's threat; but little Rebecca's

rd. My father saith there is like t

. And if they refuse to confess, they will be hanged for not telling the lie. Pretty justice! And

ounced to-morrow after

say no more. On that of a

reedom had been won in the Commonwealth war, but that was only f