CHAPTER VI.

DE LA ZOUCH INDULGES IN A LITTLE VILLANY.

If I can do it By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, She shall not long continue love to him.

SHAKESPEARE.

The Courtly hall of Haddon was never quiet for long together, and very soon both the death of the witch and the warning of the locksmith were forgotten amid the preparations which were being made for a grand ball. Sir Thomas Stanley, having wooed Margaret, had successfully pet.i.tioned the sanction and blessing of Sir George and Lady Vernon, and the event was to celebrate their betrothal.

The morning of the festive day had opened fair, and as the day sped on, the guests rapidly a.s.sembled. De Lacey was there, delighting the ladies, as usual, with his braggadocio. Manners and Crowleigh were both there too, by special invitation, and, of course, cousin Benedict a Woode, who made no scruple of inviting himself to Haddon Hall if by any means his invitation had not come; and also, to Dorothy's great disgust, Sir Henry de la Zouch was there.

The musicians struck up a lively tune, and very soon the steaming boar's head was placed upon the table. Father Philip p.r.o.nounced a very long benediction, and the singing of an old Latin rhyme beginning--

"Caput apri defero,"

announced that the feast had commenced in earnest. The venison pasties of Margaret's make disappeared with a truly marvellous rapidity, while Dorothy's confections had a very short lease of life, and fared no better, either because they were nice or that Dorothy was the maker of them.

"Pa.s.s round the wine," hailed the baron, "and drink to the health of the ladies of Haddon Hall."

"Hurrah!" vociferously replied the guests, "to the health of the ladies of Haddon."

"But stay; what's the matter with Master Manners?" asked De la Zouch, whose eagle eye had discovered that HIS tankard was not upraised with the rest. "A discourteous guest, upon my troth."

"May I drink it in water?" asked Manners, as he felt the eyes of his host fixed sternly upon him.

"Nay, you must have the wine, sir," replied Sir George, "but whether it goes down your throat or your arm makes little matter," and as he spoke he pointed to the iron ring fastened in the door post ready for such contingencies.

"I suppose the arm must have it, then," he replied, "for I am sworn to taste no wine until I have performed a solemn vow."

"Waste good wine!" exclaimed De Lacey, as he gazed in blank astonishment at the speaker; "what a pity."

"Have you forsworn ale too?" asked Dorothy.

"No, only wine, sweet demoiselle," replied Manners, smiling as he caught the drift of the question.

"Then fill his gla.s.s with ale," commanded Doll, "and drink the toast without delay."

This happy suggestion was loudly applauded, and the healths were drunk off amid acclamation, the only one who did not heartily join in it being Sir Henry de la Zouch, who was annoyed to find that his petty attempt to spite his rival had failed, and that, too, by the intervention of Dorothy herself.

"Confound it all," he muttered, "he shall not escape me like this.

Eustace."

"Did you call?" asked the page, bending down.

"Yes," whispered De la Zouch. "Listen, you remember the Derby packman?"

"Aye, too well, I do."

"Nonsense," he replied, softly; "Master Manners killed him."

"Oh!" gasped the astounded page.

"Remember," added his master, "it was Manners."

"Yes, Master John Manners," repeated Eustace.

"Hush, that is all. A little more of that delicious jelly of yours, sweet Dorothy," he added in a louder tone as he turned round again to the table.

Whilst the feast was progressing, De la Zouch was pondering the fittest way of broaching the topic which lay so heavily upon his mind.

Sir Thomas Stanley had won the elder sister, he argued, why should he not win the younger? He clearly saw that Dorothy was receding from his grasp, and that the longer he delayed, the fainter grew his chance of success. Lady Vernon daily grew less favourable too, he noticed, and so without delay he resolved to ask Dorothy for her hand. The present occasion was most propitious, and he determined to carry his plan into operation at once.

When the meal was ended--and that was not very soon--the company broke up into little parties and separated, to amuse themselves in whatever fashion they liked best. Margaret, as the heroine of the day, was surrounded by a number of knights and ladies, who contentedly watched her as she played at chess with Benedict. Sir John de Lacey racked his brains to the uttermost in order to sufficiently garnish the veracious little sc.r.a.ps of his own autobiography, and succeeded both in making the group around him open their eyes wide with surprise, and at the same time in making his listeners roar with laughter.

A marvellous hero was Sir John. He had been the ruling spirit in more than one Continental Court during his one brief sojourn in France. He had slain dragons, in different parts of the globe, in numbers enough to make St. George turn green with envy; and only his excessive modesty has prevented his name from being handed down to posterity.

Manners, naturally enough, joined Dorothy's party, and went out upon the lawn to take part in a game at bowls.

"Dear me, how careless I am to-day," she exclaimed; "there are six of us, and I have only brought four b.a.l.l.s; I must fetch some more," and she started to go back.

"Let me go," said Manners.

"You," replied Doll, "you could never find them; I will go, and you must entertain the ladies while I am away," and she tripped across the green to the Hall.

"Ha, Doll, dearest," said a voice, as she turned the corner of the terrace, "I have been searching for thee."

Dorothy turned round and met the gaze of Sir Henry de la Zouch.

"For me!" she exclaimed, without pausing.

"Nay, prithee, now don't hurry so," he replied, catching hold of her arm, "I would ask thee a weighty question."

"But I am in a great hurry," she replied.

"Then I shall not keep thee long, but thou canst stay a little while, surely?"

"Indeed, I cannot, Sir Henry," she replied. "There are some visitors awaiting my return."

"John Manners for one," sneered the knight.

Dorothy blushed deeply, and bit her lip to repress the sharp retort which came readily to her tongue. Sir Henry saw that he had committed an error, and he endeavoured to recover his position.

"Sir Thomas has wooed thy sister Margaret," he exclaimed, "and I have long been wooing thee, and now the time has come when I am to offer you my hand."

Dorothy struggled to get away, but her suitor held her fast.

"Nay, cruel one," he continued, "I must have an answer. I shall be an earl in good time, perchance, and if you will but say 'aye' to my proposal you may be a countess--think of it, Dorothy, a countess--and the hostess of Ashby Castle."