If there's no law for it on earth, there's law in heaven, or I'm much mistaken."With which determination he rode into the ugly, dirty, and stupid town of Okehampton, with which fallen man (by some strange perversity) has chosen to defile one of the loveliest sites in the pleasant land of Devon.And heartily did Amyas abuse the old town that day; for he was detained there, as he expected, full three hours, while the Justice Shallow of the place was sent for from his farm (whither he had gone at sunrise, after the early-rising fashion of those days) to take Yeo's deposition concerning last night's affray.Moreover, when Shallow came, he refused to take the depositions, because they ought to have been made before a brother Shallow at Lydford; and in the wrangling which ensued, was very near finding out what Amyas (fearing fresh loss of time and worse evils beside) had commanded to be concealed, namely, the presence of Jesuits in that Moorland Utopia.Then, in broadest Devon--"And do you call this Christian conduct, sir, to set a quiet man like me upon they Gubbings, as if I was going to risk my precious life--no, nor ever a constable to Okehampton neither? Let Lydfor'
men mind Lydfor' roogs, and by Lydfor' law if they will, hang first and try after; but as for me, I've rade my Bible, and 'He that meddleth with strife is like him that taketh a dog by the ears.'
So if you choose to sit down and ate your breakfast with me, well and good: but depositions I'll have none.If your man is enquired for, you'll be answerable for his appearing, in course; but Iexpect mortally" (with a wink), "you wain't hear much more of the matter from any hand.'Leave well alone is a good rule, but leave ill alone is a better.'--So we says round about here; and so you'll say, captain, when you be so old as I."So Amyas sat down and ate his breakfast, and went on afterwards a long and weary day's journey, till he saw at last beneath him the broad shining river, and the long bridge, and the white houses piled up the hill-side; and beyond, over Raleigh downs, the dear old tower of Northam Church.
Alas! Northam was altogether a desert to him then; and Bideford, as it turned out, hardly less so.For when he rode up to Sir Richard's door, he found that the good knight was still in Ireland, and Lady Grenville at Stow.Whereupon he rode back again down the High Street to that same bow-windowed Ship Tavern where the Brotherhood of the Rose made their vow, and settled himself in the very room where they had supped.
"Ah! Mr.Leigh--Captain Leigh now, I beg pardon," quoth mine host.
"Bideford is an empty place now-a-days, and nothing stirring, sir.
What with Sir Richard to Ireland, and Sir John to London, and all the young gentlemen to the wars, there's no one to buy good liquor, and no one to court the young ladies, neither.Sack, sir? I hope so.I haven't brewed a gallon of it this fortnight, if you'll believe me; ale, sir, and aqua vitae, and such low-bred trade, is all I draw now-a-days.Try a pint of sherry, sir, now, to give you an appetite.You mind my sherry of old? Jane! Sherry and sugar, quick, while I pull off the captain's boots."Amyas sat weary and sad, while the innkeeper chattered on.
"Ah, sir! two or three like you would set the young ladies all alive again.By-the-by, there's been strange doings among them since you were here last.You mind Mistress Salterne!""For God's sake, don't let us have that story, man! I heard enough of it at Plymouth!" said Amyas, in so disturbed a tone that mine host looked up, and said to himself--"Ah, poor young gentleman, he's one of the hard-hit ones.""How is the old man?" asked Amyas, after a pause.
"Bears it well enough, sir; but a changed man.Never speaks to a soul, if he can help it.Some folk say he's not right in his head;or turned miser, or somewhat, and takes naught but bread and water, and sits up all night in the room as was hers, turning over her garments.Heaven knows what's on his mind--they do say he was over hard on her, and that drove her to it.All I know is, he has never been in here for a drop of liquor (and he came as regular every evening as the town clock, sir) since she went, except a ten days ago, and then he met young Mr.Cary at the door, and I heard him ask Mr.Cary when you would be home, sir.""Put on my boots again.I'll go and see him.""Bless you, sir! What, without your sack?""Drink it yourself, man."
"But you wouldn't go out again this time o' night on an empty stomach, now?""Fill my men's stomachs for them, and never mind mine.It's market-day, is it not? Send out, and see whether Mr.Cary is still in town;" and Amyas strode out, and along the quay to Bridgeland Street, and knocked at Mr.Salterne's door.
Salterne himself opened it, with his usual stern courtesy.
"I saw you coming up the street, sir.I have been expecting this honor from you for some time past.I dreamt of you only last night, and many a night before that too.Welcome, sir, into a lonely house.I trust the good knight your general is well.""The good knight my general is with God who made him, Mr.
Salterne."
"Dead, sir?"
"Foundered at sea on our way home; and the Delight lost too.""Humph!" growled Salterne, after a minute's silence."I had a venture in her.I suppose it's gone.No matter--I can afford it, sir, and more, I trust.And he was three years younger than I!
And Draper Heard was buried yesterday, five years younger.--How is it that every one can die, except me? Come in, sir, come in; Ihave forgotten my manners.
And he led Amyas into his parlor, and called to the apprentices to run one way, and to the cook to run another.
"You must not trouble yourself to get me supper, indeed.""I must though, sir, and the best of wine too; and old Salterne had a good tap of Alicant in old time, old time, old time, sir! and you must drink it now, whether he does or not!" and out he bustled.
Amyas sat still, wondering what was coming next, and puzzled at the sudden hilarity of the man, as well as his hospitality, so different from what the innkeeper had led him to expect.
