The Splendid Spur quotes

He that has jilted the Muse, forsaking her gentle pipe to follow the drum and trumpet, shall fruitlessly besiege her again when the time comes to sit at home and write down his adventures.

’Tis her revenge, as I am extremely sensible: and methinks she is the harder to me, upon reflection how near I came to being her lifelong servant, as you are to hear.

The elder chuckled softly.

“I’ll be shot if I mean you to,” said he.

And this was the last I heard. For now there came a clattering at the door behind me, and Mr.

“

Tush! Master Carter⁠—nonsense; ’tis choicely well sung.

Come, brother, the chorus!”

For a while I affected to eat undisturbed: but lost patience at last and addressed a redheaded gazer—

“If you take me for a show, you ought to pay.”

“That’s fair,” said the fellow, and laid a groat on the board. This came near to putting me in a passion, but his face was serious. “ ’Tis a real pleasure,” he added heartily, “to look on one so gifted.”

’Tis a good world, and the better that no man can count on it. Last night my dripping duds helped me to a cant tale, and got me a silver penny from a man of religion.

Good’s in the worst; and life’s like hunting the squirrel⁠—a man gets much good exercise thereat, but seldom what he hunts for.

”

To my extreme discomposure, as I dropp’d her hands, her eyes were twinkling with laughter.

“Dear now; I see a dull prospect ahead if we use these long titles!”

“Indeed, sir, please yourself. Only as I intend to call you ‘Jack’ perhaps ‘Delia’ will be more of a piece than ‘Mistress Killigrew.’ ” She dropp’d me a mock curtsey. “And now, Jack, be a good boy, and hitch me this quilt across the hut.

I sat down for a while, feeling doleful.

For I found myself extremely young to be hang’d.

But soon the whang—whang! of the hammer below rous’d me. “Come,” I thought, “I’ll see what that rascal is doing, at any rate,” and pulling the file from my pocket, began to attack the window bar with a will.

“No.” ’Twas not my pain but the sight of the sinking sun that wrung the exclamation from me—“I was thinking,” I muttered.

“Don’t: ’tis bad for health. But bide thee still awhile, and shalt lie ’pon a soft bed.”

By this time, we had come down to the road: and the yells were still going on, louder than ever. We cross’d the road, descended another slope, and came all at once on a low pile of buildings that a moment before had been hid.

“For Church and King, Joan.”

“H’m: same knowledge ha’ I o’ both⁠—an’ that’s naught. But I dearly loves fair play.”

She was gone. In a minute or so I heard the trampling of a horse: and then, with a scurry of hoofs, Joan was off on the King’s errand, and riding into the darkness.

She was walking fast and angry; nor when I caught her up and tried to soothe, would she answer me but in the shortest words.

Woman’s justice, as I had just learn’d, has this small defect⁠—it goes straight enough, but mainly for the wrong object.

Which now I proved in my own case.

“Well!” There was silence for a full minute, save for our horses’ tread on the high road. And then—

“Jack, I be powerful dirty!”

This was true enough, and it made me laugh. She looked up solemnly at my mirth (having no sense of a joke, then or ever) and bent forward to the glass again.

“Yes, for I must ride to Gleys this morning.”

“Shan’t be sorry to miss thee for a while. Makes me feel so shy⁠—this cleanliness.”

So, promising to be back by nightfall, I went presently to saddle Molly: and following Joan’s directions and her warnings against quags and pitfalls, was soon riding south across the moor and well on my road to the House of Gleys.

So recalling Master Tingcomb’s late face of terror, and the confession in my pocket, I felt more cheerful. “England has grown a strange place, if I cannot get justice on this villain,” thought I; and rode forward, planning a return-match and a sweet revenge.

There is no more soothing game, I believe, in the world than this of holding imaginary triumphant discourse with your enemy.

Yet (oddly) it brought me but cold comfort on this occasion, my wound being too recent and galling. The sky, so long clouded, was bright’ning now, and growing serener every minute:

“Think so, Jack? then I give thee leave to try.”

I think there is always a brutality lurking in a man to leap out unawares.

Yet why do I seek excuses, that have never yet found one? To be plain, I sprang fiercely up and after Joan, who had already started, and was racing along the slope.

Then the giant ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought to rally round it; and with that I seem’d caught off my feet and swept forward:—and we were on the crest.

Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man’s breath off a pane.

And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across to where, on the north side, a white standard embroider’d with gold griffins was mounting.

and here, above a mattress of hay, I slept the first time for many months between fresh linen that smell’d of lavender, and in thinking how pleasant ’twas, dropped sound asleep.

Sure there is no better, sweeter couch than this of linen spread over hay.

Early in the morning, I woke with wits clear as water, and not an ache or ounce of weariness in my bones: and after washing at the pump below, went in search of breakfast and Sir Bevill.

Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, which we jump’d easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the further side, I noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes brimful of mirth.

“Say, Jack,” she cried; “is not this better than love of women?”

“In Heaven’s name,” I called out, “take care!”

Joan turn’d, and the two women stood looking at each other;—the one with dark wonder, the other with cold disdainfulness—and I between them scarce lifting my eyes.

Each was beautiful after her kind, as day and night: and though their looks cross’d for a full minute like drawn blades, neither had the mastery.

Joan was the first to speak.

“Joan!” I cried, for now I guess’d her purpose and was following to hinder her: but she had caught Molly’s bridle and was already astride of her. “Get back!” she call’d softly; and then,

“I make a better lad than wench, Jack,”

—leap’d the mare through a gap in the wall, and in a moment was breasting the hill and galloping for the high road.

wherefore I loathe to say a harsh or ungrateful-seeming word. But you could not understand that brave girl, and you cannot understand me: for as yet you do not even know yourself.

The knowledge comes slowly to a man, I think; to a woman at one rush.

But when it comes, I believe you may be strong. Now leave me to think, for my head is all of a tangle.”

For, with the fall of it, the boards (being but thin) were burst clean asunder; and on both sides had tumbled out silver cups, silver saltcellars, silver plates and dishes, that in the lantern’s rays sparkled prettily on the turf.

The coffin, in short, was stuff’d with Delia’s silverware.

I had pick’d up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the inscription, when Matt Soames call’d to me, and pointed over the hill in front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing.