Mistress Nell - Part 35
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Part 35

"Oh, I am a jolly roisterer, little one," laughed Nell, in reply, as with cavalier-strides she crossed the room. She threw herself upon the table and proceeded to boast of her doings for Moll's benefit, swinging her feet meanwhile. "I ran the gamut. I had all the paces of the truest cavalier. I could tread a measure, swear like one from the wars, crook my elbow, lie, gamble, fight--Fight? Did I say fight?"

She hid her curly head in her hands and sobbed spasmodically.

"You have been in danger!" exclaimed Moll, fearfully.

"Danger!" repeated Nell, breaking out afresh. "I taught the King a lesson he will dream about, my sweet, though it near cost me my life. He loves me, d'ye hear; he loves me, pretty one! Dance, Moll, dance--Dance, I say! I could fly for very joy!"

With the tears still wet upon her cheeks, she seized Moll by both hands and whirled the astonished girl wildly about the room, until she herself reeled for want of breath. Then, catching at a great carved oaken chair, she fell into it and cried and laughed alternately.

"Nell, Nell," gasped Moll, as she too struggled for breath; "one minute you laugh and then you cry. Have you lost your wits?"

"I only know," exulted Nell, "I made him swear his love for Nell to Portsmouth's face. I made him draw his sword for Nell."

"Great Heavens!" exclaimed Moll, aghast. "You did not draw yourself? A sword against the King is treason."

"Ods-bodikins, I know not!" answered Nell. "I know not what I did or said. I was mad, mad! All I remember is: there was a big noise--a million spears and blunderbusses turned upon poor me! Gad! I made a pretty target, girl."

"A million spears and blunderbusses!" echoed Moll, her eyes like saucers.

"An army, child, an army!" continued Nell, in half-frantic accents. "I did not stop to count them. Then, next I knew, I was in my coach, with dear old Strings beside me. The horses flew. We alighted at the Chapel, tiptoed about several corners to break the scent; then I took off my shoes and stole up the back way like a good and faithful husband. Oh, I did the whole thing in cavalier-style, sweetheart. But,'twixt us, Moll,"

and she spoke with a mysterious, confidential air,"--I wouldn't have it go further for worlds--Adair is a coward, a monstrous coward! He ran!"

As if to prove the truth of her words, at a sudden, sharp, shrill sound from the direction of the park, the sad remnant of Adair clutched Moll frantically; and both girls huddled together with startled faces and bated breaths.

"Hark! What is that?" whispered Nell.

"The men, perchance, I told you of," answered Moll; "they've spied about the house for weeks."

"Nonsense, you little goose," remonstrated Nell, though none too bravely; "some of your ex-lovers nailing their bleeding hearts to the trees."

"No, no; listen!" exclaimed Moll, frantically, as the noise grew louder.

"They're in the entry."

"In the entry!" stammered Nell; and she almost collapsed at the thought of more adventures. "I wish we were in bed, with our heads under the sheet."

"Here is your sword," said Moll, as she brought Nell the sharp weapon, held well at arm's length for fear of it.

"Oh, yes, my sword!" exclaimed Nell, perking up--for an instant only. "I never thought of my sword; and this is one of the bravest swords I ever drew. I am as weak as a woman, Moll."

"Take heart," said Moll, encouraging her from the rear, as Nell brandished the glittering blade in the direction of the door. "You know you faced an army to-night."

"True," replied Nell, her courage oozing out at her finger-tips, "but then I was a man, and had to seem brave, whether I was or no. Who's there?" she called faintly. "Who's there? Support me, Moll. Beau Adair is on his last legs."

Both stood listening intently and trembling from top to toe.

A score of rich voices, singing harmoniously, broke upon the night.

The startled expression on Nell's face changed instantly to one of fearless, roguish merriment. She was her old self again. She tossed the sword contemptuously upon the floor, laughing in derision now at her companion's fear.

"A serenade! A serenade!" she cried. "Moll--Why, Moll, what feared ye, la.s.s? Come!" She ran gaily to the window and peeped out. "Oh, ho, masqueraders from the moon. Some merry crew, I'll be bound. I am generous. I'll give thee all but one, sweet mouse. The tall knight in white for me! I know he's gallant, though his vizor's down. Marry, he is their captain, I trow; and none but a captain of men shall be captain of my little heart."

"It is Satan and his imps," cried Moll, attempting to draw Nell from the window.

"Tush, little one," laughed Nell, reprovingly. "Satan is my warmest friend. Besides, they cannot cross the moat. The ramparts are ours. The draw-bridge is up."

In a merry mood, she threw a piece of drapery, mantle-like, about Adair's shoulders, quite hiding them, and, decapitating a grim old suit of armour, placed the helmet on her head. Thus garbed, she threw the window quickly open and stepped boldly upon the ledge, within full view of the band beneath. As the moonlight gleamed upon her helmet, one might have fancied her a goodly knight of yore; and, indeed, she looked quite formidable.

"Nell, what are you doing?" called Moll, wildly, from a point of safety.

"They can see and shoot you."

"Tilly-vally, girl," replied Nell, undaunted now that she could see that there was no danger, "we'll parley with the enemy in true feudal style.

We'll teach them we have a man about the house. Ho, there, strangers of the night--breakers of the King's peace and the slumbers of the righteous! Brawlers, knaves; would ye raise honest men from their beds at such an hour? What means this jargon of tipsy voices? What want ye?"

A chorus of throats without demanded, in m.u.f.fled accents: "Drink!"

"Drink!" "Sack!" "Rhenish!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I WAS THAT BOY!"]

"Do ye think this a tavern, knaves?" responded Nell, in a husky, mannish voice. "Do ye think this a vintner's? There are no topers here.

Jackanapes, revellers; away with you, or we'll rouse the citadel and train the guns."

Her retort was met with boisterous laughter and mocking cries of "Down with the doors!" "Break in the windows!"

This was a move Nell had not antic.i.p.ated. She jumped from the ledge, or rather tumbled into the room, nervously dropping her disguise upon the floor.

"Heaven preserve us," she said to Moll, with quite another complexion in her tone, "they are coming in! Oh, Moll, Moll, I did not think they would dare."

Moll closed the sashes and bolted them, then hugged Nell close.

"Ho, there, within!" came, in a guttural voice, now from without the door.

"Yes?" Nell tried to say; but the word scarce went beyond her lips.

Again in guttural tones came a second summons--"Nell! Nell!"

Nell turned to Moll for support and courage, whispering: "Some arrant knave calls Nell at this hour." Then, a.s.suming an att.i.tude of bravery, with fluttering heart, she answered, as best she could, in a forced voice: "Nell's in bed!"

"Yes, Nell's in bed," echoed the constant Moll. "Everybody's in bed.

Call to-morrow!"

"No trifling, wench!" commanded the voice without, angrily. "Down with the door!"

"Stand close, Moll," entreated Nell, as she answered the would-be intruder with the question:

"Who are ye? Who are ye?"

"Old Rowley himself!" replied the guttural voice.

This was followed by hoa.r.s.e laughter from many throats.