Through my Heart first [A novel.] With ... illustrations, etc

Front matter

PRICE ONE SHILLING THROUGH MY HEART FIRST BY H. T. Johnson, AUTHOR OF "Honours Divided," "Jack of Heart?," •Etc., EtC. X53 Fleet Street, London, E.C. Fact i Fiction i Fancy i Frivol i "FUN," Every Tuesday. Price One Penny. FUN has a staff of the Best Writers. FUN has Drawings on Every Page by the Best Artists. Standing between her ana\the levelled muskets, heflinqs apart his doublet, and, baring his breast, cries, "Through My Heart First!" So menacing was his attitude that, youngster as he was, the two men for a moment paused irresolute. Front. BY H. T. JOHNSON, Author ok "Hokovbs Divided," "Jack of Hearts," etc., etc. WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY PHIL ER BUTT. 153 FLEET STKEET, LONDON, E.C. "FUN'S" FUNNY BOOKS. Full of Comic Pictures. ONE SHILLING EACH. Post-free, Is. 2{d. "FUN'S COMICAL CREATURES."

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Chapter I

1635. ■ T>ESHREW me, Mistress Alison ! but I would as lief dwell -D among the Russes as winter here in Salop. Pile on the logs, I prithee, for look you, I am a soldier, and though I have a wholesome horror of cold, I never saw the fire that could dismay me." And the speaker, shaking the layers of snow from the broad brim of his feathered hat, and kicking it from his jack-boots, unbuckled his sword-belt, and stretching his legs, sate himself with an assertive air before the huge flames that leapt from the wood-laden fire-dogs within the ingle of the vast kitchen of Austen Hall. He was a man of about thirty years, broadly built, rubicund of visage, his manners strongly partaking of the freedom which characterised the soldier of his time ; for Dirk Marley's pro fession was that of a man-at-arms, a fact which he never failed to impress upon whatever company he might happen to find himself in.

Under Buckingham he had fought against the French at Rhe, and the ill-success of his side in that campaign was due, in his own estimation, to the circumstance that he had taken therein the part of a humble trooper ; whereas, had the command of the forces in which he served been committed to his disposal, victory must assuredly have crowned his arms. At least, this was a proposition which he daily demonstrated to the satisfaction of, if not his hearers, himself. But Fortune had proved a tricky jade, and this son of Mars, despite the valour and enterprise of which his own words bore daily witness, was still but a plain soldier in the king's army, and in addition, body-servant to Captain Quentin Poyns. There were malicious tongues that wagged to the effect that had Master Marley served Mars as zealously as he had devoted himself to Bacchus, he might have risen to a higher rank in the military service of the king ; but it was hinted that howsoever valiantly he might stand against the foe, to which himself was the only testimony, he was given to fall prone and vanquished before the effects of the bottle.

His master and officer, Captain Quentin Poyns was, at the opening of this story, sojourning at Austen Hall, upon an errand of great moment from His Majesty the King, to Sir Piers Austen, the master of the Hall, and the lord of Austen Manor. It was thus that we find Dirk Marley stretching his limbs so unceremoniously across the hearth of the kitchen of the Hall. " And look you, Mistress Alison," he continued, " if there beats beneath your snowy bodice a spark of sentiment for frozen humanity, I pray you bring from your closet the flask of strong waters, that I trow you keep hidden snugly away for internal consolation and comfort when the nights are cold." She, whom he addressed was a buxom comely woman well on in her fourth decade, whose chief office was to superintend the maids of the kitchen and still-room.

Apparently, the soldier's boisterously familiar tone was distasteful to her, for she threw back her plump double chin with an expression of offended dignity. " I cry your mercy, Master Marley ! but if you have lack of aught, the which as regards strong waters I doubt me much, Master Soames is butler here, and it is to him such require ments should be addressed." " What ! to that bald-pated, sleek, hogshead-paunched old mole, that is for ever preaching temperance, and holding him self forth as a pattern of sober living, the while he knows that he daily consumeth as much good liquor as would make a whole company of the King's poor soldiers royally drunk and helpless ; yet doth stand at his master's sideboard erect and grave as a Quaker, and will, with the fumes of good sherris sack reeking from him, read me a horuity on tippling, as long as from here to the Cross of Charing, when I beseech him for my morning draught ?

By the saints " " Hush thee, thou irreverent man of war ! Learn that popish oaths ill beseem thee while beneath the roof of a Protestant gentleman, and a pillar of the Reformed Church." The admonition came from a gaunt, lean-faced man of gloomy expression, who was almost hidden in the shadow of the oppo site ingle nook. The trooper turned towards him with an ex pression of angry contempt, and a stamp of his spurred, heavy boot. " And who art thou, Master Caleb Brander, to interrupt a gentleman in his conversation, and rule him in the choice of his oaths ? Marry come up ! the times have reached a pretty pass. Your Calvinistic crew, I believe me, would banish, hail they their will, the holy saints — not only from men's mouths and hearts, but from the calendar itself, ay ! I doubt not, from the very Heaven wherein they reign.

But hearken, Master Brander ; if thou desirest to read a homily, get thee to the dining-hall, and preach it from below the salt — 'tis paid for there. Here it is neither welcome nor needed." " How, Master Marley. Brawling again 1 " It was the voice of Perkin Soames that broke in upon the dispute, and that worthy advanced to the fire and sat himself between the respective representatives of sword and gown, with a view of appeasiDg what looked like a threatening storm. But the soldier's blood was up, and his ruffled plumes were not to be so easily smoothed. Ever since his arrival at Austen Hall, he had not received that deferential homage which he considered to be his due. He had sworn vast, terrible oaths at the varlets, but they had not trembled at hearing them -r he had chucked one or two of the wenches under their fair, plump chins, but had met, instead of roguish glances from their sloe-black eyes, heavy boxes of the ear that had made his head spin again.

Assuredly this Shropshire was a sorry place, and to a gentleman from town of courtly bearing and martial tastes, a \ery exile. Consequently, the rebuff of the housekeeper, and the admonition of the sour-faced chaplain were only breezes which fanned a smouldering discontent. So he rattled on glibly, sowing broadcast words calculated to displease the kitchen company. A few of the maids tittered at his sallies, and here and there some serving man, impressed by the trooper's swagger, and dazzled by the stories of adven tures which had befallen him, chimed in his approval of senti ments which in his eyes seemed indisputable since they were fostered by one who claimed to be a man of the town, of fashion, and of war. And as the day was keen, and the snow lay deep without over field and fold, Perkin Soames relaxed his rigour in the matter of strong ale ; so that in result, as the trooper's heart grew warmer with the brew of Octobers long gone by, his tongue wagged faster and faster.

"Ah! Dickon, lad, thou shouldst pass with me and other merry blades a night or two in St. James' or Covent Garden. Thou wouldst, I warrant me, return to these wilds with many a tale to tell of mad frolics by night, of affrays with the 'prentice boys, cits and Templars ; and not a few of City ladies, as kind as their varlet spouses were rancorous. Oh, 'tis a merry life, that of a soldier of fortune, when his regiment lies in London quarters." " Since our country-side is so desolate, and our cheer so sorry, methinks it is a pity that your master should have brought you hither," interposed Perkin Soames, who resented the reflection upon his county. "Ah, but thereby hangs a tale, if I were indiscreet enough to reveal it," the soldier rejoined. " But fill again this horn, good Perkin, and I may tell thee a little, if not ail."

With the avidity of his class to learn as much as possible regarding his master's affairs, the butler refilled the proffered measure, this time not with ale, but a fiery wine, which dis persed what little discretion remained within his cloudy brain. " Politics ; the troubles between the King and the Commons — yea, 'tis of these we come hither to imparle with Sir Piers, who, all the world knows, is a shrewd statesman, and hath the ear of His Majesty, though somewhat too stiff-necked for the Royal liking — not but that were I His Grace I would, I warrant me, bring low many a head that carries itself too upstartly, and then set it up higher yet, so that a' might have a good view o' the City house-tops and gables. But I was wandering. Politics, eh ? But our mission ends not there. When the King's message is delivered and the answer taken, my captain hath a message of his own — not for the knight, but for my lady.

Know ye not, Master Perkin, that the pair were acquainted when my lady Barbara was but a maid of some sixteen summers, and my captain a cornet of horse ? and that her father, being poor in estate, he would hear none of the young son of Mars' suit to his daughter, but instead, like the tyrant knave he was " " I charge you speak not so disrespectfully of my lady's father ! " the butler frowned. " Bestowed her upon that harsh - visaged ghoul, Sir Piers " "And soldier though thou art, no more of this discourse anent my master." " Aha ! but I warrant me the shadow on his face will be darker yet when my master hath won his wager." "What wager?" The whole of the servants craned their necks and held their breath to hear the end of this irreverent roysterer's story. " What, have ye not heard it ? 'Tis the common gossip o' the town : how, in a coffee-house, where most of the wits and gallants do congregate, my master, being rallied with the ill success of his wooing of the fair Mistress Barbara, did wager with Sir Francis Windebank, that though nine years had elapsed since he had seen her, and she was now wife and mother, he would prevail upon her to leave her home, her sour-faced husband and her child, and fly with him whither soever he might list."

A deep breath — almost a cry — of horror burst from the lis teners as the trooper's words fell on their ears. Nevertheless, he went on, — " And — body o' me ! — he will win his wager ! " Then the blustering braggart was seized by the wide collar of his leathern jerkin and hurled across the kitchen floor by the portly butler who stood near him, his ever ruddy face a fiery crimson, the ridge of gray hair fringing his pate bristling erect, and a fire in his eyes that none had ever seen there be fore. " Heaven preserve us ! there will be bloodshed," Mistress Alison ejaculated ; and the maids set up a frightened scream in chorus. Dirk Marley rose, and made as if to draw his sword, but, in a second, the butler was again upon him, and the trooper, lying helpless, with the huge mass of humanity kneeling upon him, felt his sword-belt unbuckled, sword and scabbard flung across the floor, and then the wide leathern girdle falling in blows, Then the wide leathern girdle falling in blows, each one of which seemed to cut hisjtesh. each one of which seemed to cut his flesh, or break his bones, about his back and shoulders.

And then the blustering trooper, who had been so full of bravado of his own valour, bellowed as loudly for mercy as he had before vaunted his prowess, the merciless blows meanwhile descending in a fearful rain. At last the grip upon his throat was released ; he sprang to his feet, and while the scullion maids shrieked with laughter, and the men cried, "Trounce him, good Master Perkin ! " Dirk took to his heels through the vaulted passages to the stairs, thence across the wide hall, up the broad oaken staircase, and along the dark wainscoted corridors, with the infuriated Perkin following and smiting behind him. " Through My Heat t First!"

Chapter II. Troublous Times

WHILE the events related in the preceding chapter were transpiring, Lady Barbara Austen sat in her keeping room, in company with her husband and his guest, Captain Poyns. She was sitting apart from the gentlemen, dreamily passing her fair hands over a spinet. For all that the conversation going on interested her she might have been alone, for it was strictly confined to current politics. " Certain it is, Captain Poyns, things are coming to a pretty pass, and, I fear me, worse troubles than those now racking this disturbed land await us. 'Tis impossible but that a crisis inus-t arrive." Sir Piers Austen, who uttered these words, was a man of perhaps forty-five years. He was naturally of a dark com plexion, lean of habit, and austere in manner. By those about him he was rather feared than loved ; men respected him fur his vast landed possessions, his accumulated wealth, and his political influence ; for he was known to have great weight, both in the county and in parliament, and it was with a view to obtain his influence with the group of daring men who wern banding themselves in opposition to royal prerogative, that Charles had despatched Captain Poyns to confer with thi* Shropshire gentleman.

But there was little in the personality of Sir Piers to attract towards him affection or deep regard. His sullen reserve, his taciturnity, and haughtiness of demea nour surrounded him like a rampart defying approach. He was a statesman, admittedly powerful and far seeing, but he was so concentrated in state affairs, that few but politicians could understand or have aught in common with him. His attire was as sombre as his expression, his black silk doublet and breeches being only relieved by the gold chain of a foreign order suspended from his neck, for he had been at tached to many foreign embassies ; and though deficient as t courtier, had made his mark at the Hague, at Versailles, and Madrid, as a subtle and finished diplomatist. Facing him sat his very antitype — a well-proportioned fair man, of at the utmost twenty-eight years, attired in a yellow court suit, that might have, and doubtless often had, braved it at St. James's; with point lace ruffles at his wrists and neck, u wealth of tawny lovelocks falling over his shoulders, his well turned calves encased in French hose of the finest silk, his feet in shapely pale-blue shoes of satin, adorned with huge rosettes of the palest pink.

His face might have served a sculptor for a model of Apollo. The eyes — dark, long-lashed, and flashing, set deep, but not too deep, beneath brows that might have been pencilled ; a nose aquiline in shape, with nostrils that dilated as the eyes flashed ; a fairly-formed mouth, the want of firm lines hidden by handsome fair moustachios of a martial twirl ; a well-turned chin, and a complexion that might have roused the envy of a Court beauty. This was Quentin Poyns, a captain in His Majesty's Regi ment of Horse — as daring a soldier of fortune as ever unsheathed a sword, as courtly and dangerous a gallant as ever turned a quatrain to a lady's eyes, or breathed a honeyed poesy in the ear of dame or damsel. But we have all this time as thoroughly ignored the lady of the party as did her two companions— indeed, more so than one of them, for ever and anon while Quentin Poyns' ears seemed intent on the discourse of his host, his dark eyes glanced across the dark oak panelled room, towards where Lady Barbara sat at her spinet.

Truly she was passing fair. Her full oval cheeks had the roses of twenty-five summers ; the rich masses of her tresses fell over her snowy shoulders as the ruddy gold might have showered itself around Danae of old. It was not the beauty of the maiden, but of the still youthful matron, the rich summer of mature loveliness. Some eight years past when Sir Piers Austen led the lovely Barbara to the home of his ances tors, those who beheld her compared her to a wakening rosebud. The promise of her loveliness was fulfilled ; she bloomed now with the full glory of the roses of late June. She was attired in a costly robe of carnation red, over a rich satin gown of crushed strawberry hue ; round her full fair bosom, the lapels of her bodice, and her ivory elbows clustered a wealth of lace, part of the Austen heirlooms ; round her full shapely jirms was clasped a string of precious pearls, and a tiara of the same jewels gleamed above the auburn waves of her hair.

Sir Piers paused, and the captain rejoined, " But surely, Sir Piers, it is the fault of those who refuse to submit them selves to the will of their Heaven-appointed sovereign that discord stalketh so rampant about His Majesty." " Misunderstand me not. I blame not the king." " Nor, indeed, would it be seemly that any should. Loyalty forbids that any should think, the much less speak, evil of our gracious lord." " And yet I trow me, good captain, that had His Majesty had at his elbow ministers and advisers that feared less to blame him, and respected more his weal, we had not now so rude a gap 'twixt crown and people. A truce to idle parley ; 'tis a time for men to speak out, and he who is dumb is a " Through Aly Heart First ! " traitor to his cause. Hath not the king by his own headstrong acts played into the very hands of his enemies ?

Consider the events of the last few years, if thou wouldst not blind thyself to those that must of necessity come next, if matters be not speedily altered. The king gave ear too long to Buck ingham, till that rash schemer brought us disaster abroad and discontent at home. Heaven rest his soul, and pardon his un happy deeds ! Laud, that meddling priest, is bent on serving Rome at the cost of England, and of rekindling the ashes of Smithfield. Ship-money hath been levied upon the whole kingdom, in breach of the privileges of Parliament, to grant or withhold supplies, and John Hampden is to be illegally prose cuted for his legal resistance thereto. Mark me, captain, the Court, in making Master Hampden a disaffected subject, hath tied a rod that some day hence will make its own back smart. ADd my lord Strafford, much as I honour him as possessed of integrity of purpose beyond reproach, he liveth a hundred years too late for his generation ; and his ' Thorough ' scheme, so far from checking the clamour of the people for their liber ties, and the Parliament for their privileges, will but serve to quicken the course of the disasters that, I fear, await the king."

" Then if Pym, Vane, and the rest proceed with their designs, to the great sorrow and distress of His Majesty, it seems, Sir Piers, we may not rely too strongly on your support to thwart the ends of the traitors." "Captain Poyns, remember that I am a knight of the shire, sitting in that Parliament, for six years past tyrannically prorogued, with Sir Harry Vane, Master Pym, and the others, and I must intreat thee not to dub as traitors men who lawfullv assert the privileges of the Commons against the inroads of tyranny and " "And hearken also, Sir Piers, that I am a soldier of His Majesty, and I will not sit calm, and hear my king, whom God preserve, dubbed tyrant." At this j uncture, Lady Barbara, deeming the altercation was running dangerously high, interposed. " Gentlemen, fie ! here have I sat two long hours as lonely as Ariadne reft of Theseus.

I marvel not that Sir Piers should forget me, he is so wrapt in politics ; but if I mistake me not, Captain Poyns, you have the reputation in the town of being a gallant and a cavalier. I confess it surprises me that I am so forgot in such company. And yet, mayhap, after the dazzling lights that flash at court, a simple Shropshire dame hath too little attraction to keep gentlemen from politics, and even quarrels." " I cry your mercy, fairest lady," the cavalier protested ; " but, indeed, I have been longing to hear less of affairs of state, and more of your dulcet voice. But, consider, I am come hither by the king's command to discuss these matters, «ind as sor the worthy Sir Piers, 'faith where he is there seems also to be Westminster," and he muttered under his fair moustaches, "Well, well, if the worst come to the worst, and I lose my man and his interest for the king, I'll solace myself with the winning of my wager, and 'twill be the less fraught with ill consequence at court if Sir Piers prove no friend to the king."

" La ! but His Majesty, could he but hear you, would con fess that you have well filled your part to-night. Come, let us to the harpsichord, I am dying to hear you sing those verses they say you have written in memory of some lady whose bright eyes have singed even your adamant heart. They tell me 'tis a pretty thing, and a plaintive, and that the ballad" mongers swear by it. I have here the music Master Purcell hath set to it." The handsome soldier, with a stately bow, took her fair, jewelled hand, and led her to the harpsichord ; but before he had commenced his song, a hubbub and commotion in the corridor caused the two to rush to the door. " Body o' me ! is 't thieves, or the French invading us ? " cried Sir Piers, flinging open the door, and there, in the corri dor, he was startled at beholding Perkin Soames administer ing the remains of his castigation to the howling Dirk Marley.

Chapter III. The Wrong

"TTOW now, good Perkin 1" exclaimed Sir Piers, "methought si thou wert a man of peace, and far from a breaker of men's crowns ; but whate'er the cause, 'tis sorry hospitality to belabour the guest within our gates, and I must hear from' thee good cause for quittance. Captain Poyns, I am amazed and humbled at the incivility of my servant to thine, and I pray your pardon." "Servant of mine no longer," cried Quentin Poyns, " for I would never have about me a man carrying a sword that would not slit the throat of the man that struck him. Thou varlet !' I know for truth now the reports I have heard, that thy boasts are deceitful and false, and thy valour a counterfeit ; I believe now that the Frenchmen whom thou hackedst at Rhe were dead upon the field ere thou set on them. Make no apologies, Sir Piers ; I warrant me the knave deserved his trouncing.

For thee, good Perkin, here is a silver crown." " Through My Heart First!" 10 But the butler drew back, nor would touch the cavalier's proffered largess. Followed by his master, he withdrew, while the bruised and groaning Marley was glad to make good his escape. .Sir Piers, leaving his guest and wife in her keeping-room, de scended the stairs into the vast dining-hall, and there questioned his servitor concerning his rough handling of the trooper. It was with difficulty Perkin could be induced to explain his conduct, but at length reflecting that the soldier's ribald boasting had been delivered in full audience of all his fellow .domestics, he made no more ado, but related, with burning cheek and voice choked by indigna tion, all that the drunken trooper had declared. Sir Piers listened with a frown that grew darker as the butler pro ceeded.

Then he dismissed the butler to his pantry with the words, " Mark me ! this fool's tat tle must be forgotten. No word of this must pass again the lips The child was in his arms. of any of my household, else they quit my doors sor ever. I look to thee, Perkin, for this." "Tush I" he muttered, as he re-ascended the oaken stairs; ': who would heed the silly tattle of churls ? 'Tis true between her and me there is a gap of years, that our habits, our pursuits, and inclinations lie wide apart ; true it is also that this king's messenger is strangely attentive to my lady ; but 'tis the fashion of the town, and I am too deeply immersed in matters of State to cultivate or appreciate courtesies." His unpleasant reveries were interrupted by a gentle touch. Looking down he saw, clasping his knees, a white-robed baby form, a fair, oval face, shaded by waves of dark brown tresses, from beneath which a pair of great grey eyes looked up to his face gravely and lovingly.

In a moment the child was in his arms, and he was covering the pretty face with kisses. It was the one tender spot in his morose, stern nature, his love for his child. " How now, Winnie ! What means this ? Surely 'tis time thou wert abed — 'tis nearly sunset. What means the minx prowling about the stairs like a white mouse ?" " Nurse Priscilla had put me abed, but I woke with a great noise, and was afeard, and then I peeped out and heard papa's Quentin Poyns was on his knee nt her feet, holding one fair hand to his lips. foot upon the stairs, and methought I would like again to kiss thee good-night, dear papa ! " " Witching little rogue, 'tis beyond me to chide thee— as who should° chide the dear soul for loving one so much? There, there's thy kiss— now, hie ! get thee gone to thy cot, little one, and kind angels guard thy slumber !"

The little feet pattered up the stairs, the little form vanished in the darkness. Sir Piers re-entered his wife's keeping-room And what a sight met his eyes ! Quentin Poyns was on 'his knee at her feet, holding one ■J, "Through My Heart First!" 12 fair hand to his lips, while she returned his gaze with a tell tale glance of tenderness. "traitor! "hissed the baronet, "traitress ! Base wife ! recreant mother ! — hence, or I shall forget my manhood as thou hast forgotten thy womanhood." The gallant sprang to his feet, his hand on his sword hilt. The Lady Barbara fled from the apartment with a stifled scream. "As for thee, base wretch, sent hither on the errand of thy king— thou hast abused the trust reposed in thee by thy master, thou hast betrayed the hospitality of the roof above thee. Traitor envoy ! — traitor guest! — draw !

Yet no ! though thou hast forgotten thou art my guest, it beseems me not to forget I am thine host. Follow me, Sir courtier. I will avenge the dishonour to my hearth beyond my threshold! " For once Quentin Poyns' assurance failed him. He felt a blush of shame suffuse his cheek, and he followed Sir Piers without a word. They left the house by a back way, and in a few minutes reached the shadow of a clump of yew trees on the verge of a wooded hollow adjacent to the hall, and known as Austen Dingle. Without a word they traversed the newly-fallen snow that lay like a pure mantle over all. The western sky was bathed in the gold and crimson glory of the setting sun, and the shades of the winter evening were falling over the woods, but there was yet light enough for their purpose. They unsheathed their swords, and in a moment the hiss and clash of steel rang quick and fierce upon the evening silence.

Both were expert swordsmen, and for long each vainly strove to break the other's guard. From the boughs above them the birds, whose evensong had just been hushed, fluttered affrighted by the ring of blades ; the sparks flew ever and anon, as thrust and lunge met parry, and for a space the snow was covered with their footmarks. Though the air was bitterly keen, and bough and bramble hung heavy with frost-rime, huge drops of perspiration rolled down their fore heads like beads. Fiercely as they strove, neither yet had the advantage, till suddenly from amoDg the clump of trees the Lady Barbara sprang between them. Sir Piers — the first to observe her — lowered his sword-point, and as he did so his opponent's sword broke through his guard and pricked his sword-arm. But as Lady Austen darted in their centre, the two men fell back apace.