The White Gauntlet

“Dang it!” ejaculated the jealous lover, “what do you mean by that, master?”

“Why, only that I was witness to that little affair in the old camp; and, to say the troth, was not a little surprised. If any one deserved those flowers from Maid Marian, it was surely the man who first took up her quarrel. That was yourself, Master Walford: as my skull case – which still aches at the remembrance – can truly testify.”

“Dang me, if I didn’t! The black horseman had no business to interfere, had he?”

“Not a bit! You and I could have settled our little difference between ourselves; and I was just upon the eve of asking your forgiveness – for I felt I had been foolish – when this fellow stepped in. He interfered, for no other reason, than to figure well in the eyes of the girl. I could see plain enough it was that; though I knew nothing of either party at the time. But I’ve learnt something since, that puts the matter beyond dispute.”

“Learnt somethin’ since – you have?” gasped Walford, springing up from his chair, and earnestly stooping towards the speaker. “If thee know’st anything anent Maid Marian – Bet Dancey, I mean, an’ him– tell it me, Master! tell it me, an’ – ”

“Keep cool, Walford! Resume your seat, pray. I’ll tell you all I know; but, before I can make sure that I have been correctly informed, it is necessary for me to know more of this person, whom you style the Black Horseman. Perhaps you can tell me something, that will enable me to identify him with the individual whose name I have heard, in connection with that of Maid Marian, or Bet Dancey – as you say the beauty is called.”

“What do you want to know o’ him?” asked Walford, evidently ready to impart all the intelligence regarding Holtspur of which he was himself possessed.

“Everything,” replied Scarthe, perceiving that he need not take trouble to keep up even a show of reserve. “As for myself, I know only his name. After all, it may not have been him – who – ”

“Who what?” quickly inquired the impatient listener.

“I’ll tell you presently, Master Walford; if you’ll only have a little patience. Where does this black horseman hold out?”

“Hold out?”

“Ay, where’s his hostelry?”

“I’ve seed him oftener than anywhere else at the Saracen’s Head – down the road nigh on to Uxbridge.”

“Zooks! my brave Robin, that isn’t what I mean. Where does he live?”

“Where’s his own home?”

“Ah! his home.”

“’Tain’t very far off from here – just a mile t’other side o’ Wapsey’s Wood – in a big hollow i’ the hills. Stone Dean the place be called. It be a queery sort o’ a old dwellin’ – and a good lot out o’ repairs, I reckon.”

“Does he see any company?”

“Wal, if you mean company – sich as fine ladies an’ the like – I doan’t think he ever do hev that sort about him. And not much o’ any sort, whiles the sun be a-shinin’. After night – ”

“Ah! his friends generally visit him by night,” interrupted Scarthe, with a glance that betokened satisfaction. “Is that your meaning, Master Walford?”

“No, not gen’rally – ye mout say altogether. I have been to Stone Dean more’n twenty times, since he coomed to live at the old house – at all hours I’ve been – an’ I never seed a soul theer i’ the day time, ’cepting myself an’ Dick Dancey. Theer be a’ odd sort o’ a sarvint he brought wi’ him – a Indyen they calls him.”

“But Master Holtspur has visitors in the night time, you think?”

“Ay! that he have – lots o’ ’em.”

“Who are they?”

“Doan’t know neer a one o’ ’em. They be all strangers to these parts – leastwise they appear so – as they come ridin’, kivered wi’ mud an’ dust, like after makin’ a goodish bit o’ a journey. There’ll be a big gatherin’ o’ ’em theer nex’ Sunday night – considerin’ the letters that’s gone. I took six myself, an’ Dick Dancey as many more – to say nothing o’ a bunch carried to the west end o’ the county by a fellow I doan’t know nothin’ about. It be a meeting o’ some sort, I take it.”

“On next Sunday night, you say?”

The question was evidently asked with a keen interest: for the revelations which Will Walford was making had all at once changed the jocular air of his interrogator into one of undisguised eagerness.

“Next Sunday night?”

“At what hour?”

“Twelve o’ the clock.”

“You are sure about the hour?”

“I ought to be; since I ha’ got to be theer myself, along wi’ Dick Dancey, to look to the gentlemen’s horses. A big crowd o’ ’em there’ll be for the two o’ us to manage: as the gentlemen be comin’ without theer grooms. But what was it, Master?” inquired the woodman, returning to the torturing thought that was still uppermost; “You sayed you knowed somethin’ as happened atween Bet Dancey an’ him? If he’s been an’ done it, then, dang me – I’ll keep my threet, if I shud ha’ to swing for it!”

“Done what?”

“Made a fool o’ Bet – that’s what I meean. What is it ’t ye know, Mister Captain? Please to tell me that!”

“Well, then,” replied the tempter, speaking slowly and deliberately – as if to find time for the concoction of some plausible tale. “For myself, I can’t say I know anything – that is, for certain – I have only heard – altogether by accident, too – that your Maid Marian was seen – out in the woods with a gentleman – and at a very unreasonable hour of the night.”

“What night?” gasped the woodman.

“Let me see! Was it the night of the fête? No. It was the next after – if I remember aright.”

“Damn her! The very night I war gone over to Rickmans’orth wi’ them letters. Augh!”

“I shouldn’t have known it was this fellow Holtspur: as the person who gave me the information didn’t say it was him. It was only told me that the man – whoever he might be – was dressed in fine velvet doublet, with a beaver and black plumes; but from what I’ve seen myself, and what you’ve just now told me, I think it very likely that the black horseman was the individual. It was in the woods – near Stone Dean – where they were seen. You say he lives there. It looks suspicious, don’t it?”

“’Twar him! I know it – I be sure o’t. Augh! If I don’t ha’ revenge on him, and her too! Dang the deceitful slut! I will! I will!”

“Perhaps the girl’s not so much to blame. He’s a rich fellow – this Holtspur, and may have tempted her with his money. Gold goes a great way in such matters.”

“Oh! if’t were only money, I could abear it better. No! It an’t that, master, it an’t that! I’m a’most sure it an’t. She’s done it, damn her!”

“Perhaps we may be mistaken. Things may not have gone so far as you think. At all events, I should advise you to let the girl alone; and confine your revenge to the villain who has wronged her.”

“Him first – him first! And then, if I find she’s let herself be made a fool o’ – ”

“Whether or not, he deserves no thanks from you for having made the attempt.”

“I’ll thank him! – I will, whenever I gets the chance. Wait till I gets the chance.”

“If I am not mistaken, you may have that – without waiting long.”

Misinterpreting these words, the woodman glanced towards his axe with a significant and savage leer, that did not escape the keen eye of Scarthe.

“True,” said the latter, in a tone of disapproval, “you might have that chance almost at any hour. But there would also be a chance of failure, with a considerable risk of your getting run through the ribs. If what you’ve told me be as I suspect, there will be no need to resort to such extreme measures. Perhaps I may be able to point out a surer and safer method for you to rid yourself of this rival.”

“Oh! Mister Captain! If you would only do that – only tell me how– I’ll – I’ll – ”