The Splendid Spur<br />Being Memoirs of the Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, a Servant of His Late Maj by Arthur Quiller-Couch (libby ebook reader TXT) 📕

“To our trusty and well beloved Sir Ralph Hopton, at our Army in Cornwall—these.”

'Twas no more than I look'd for; yet the sight of it and the king's red seal, quicken'd my step as I set off again. And I cared not a straw for Dr. Kettle's wrath on the morrow.

Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay around Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape my course for Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. 'Tis not my purpose to describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to reserve my pen for those more moving events that overtook me later. Only in the uncertain light I must have taken a wrong turn to the left (I think near Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for, coming about daybreak to a considerable town, I found it to be, not Faringdon, but Wantage. There was no help for it, so I set about enquiring for a bed. The town was full, and already astir with preparations for cattle-fair; and neither at the “Bear” nor the “Three Nuns” was there a bed to be had. But at length at the “Boot” tavern—a small house, I found one just vacated by a couple of drovers, and having cozen'd the chambermaid to allow me a clean pair of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in five minutes was sleeping sound.

I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of womankind.

“He's waking,” said one.

“Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus—and he such a pretty young man!”

This came from the landlady, who stood close, her hand shaking my shoulder roughly.

“What's amiss?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“Why, 'tis three of the afternoon.”

“Then I'll get up, as soon as you retire.”

“Lud! we've been trying to wake thee this hour past; but 'twas sleep—sleep!”

“I'll get up, I tell you.”

“Thought thee'd ha' slept through the bed and right through to the floor,” said the chambermaid by the door, tittering.

“Unless you pack and go, I'll step out amongst you all!”

Whereat they fled with mock squeals, calling out that the very thought made them blush: and left me to dress.

Downstairs I found a giant's breakfast spread for me, and ate the hole, and felt the better for it: and thereupon paid my scot, resisting the landlady's endeavor to charge me double for the bed, and walked out to see the town.

“Take care o' thysel',” the chambermaid bawled after me; “nor flourish thy attainments abroad, lest they put thee in a show!”

Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended purchasing a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over, the cattle-pens broken up, and the dealers gather'd round the fiddlers, ballad singers, and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming booths, too, driving a brisk trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and Costly Colors; and an eating tent, whence issued a thick reek of cooking and loud rattle of plates. Over the entrance, I remember, was set a notice: “Dame Alloway from Bartholomew Fair. Here are the best geese, and she does them as well as ever she did.” I jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my pockets, for fear of cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the street, there arose the noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward it; and in a minute I was left alone, standing before a juggler who had a sword halfway down his throat, and had to draw it out again before he could with any sufficiency curse the defection of his audience; but offered to pull out a tooth for me if I wanted it.

I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn'd the cause of this tumult.

'Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking pockets: and they were dragging him off to be duck'd. Now in the heart of Wantage the little stream that runs through the town is widen'd into a cistern about ten feet square, and five in depth, over which hung a ducking stool for scolding wives. And since the townspeople draw their water from this cistern, 'tis to be supposed they do not fear the infection. A long beam on a pivot hangs out over the pool, and to the end is a chair fasten'd; into which, despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped this poor wretch, whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him.

Souse! he was plunged: hauled up choking and dripping: then—just as he found tongue to shriek—souse! again.

'Twas a dismal punishment; and this time they kept him under for a full half minute. But as the beam was lifted again, I heard a hullaballoo and a cry—

“The bear! the bear!”

And turning, I saw a great brown form lumbering down the street behind, and driving the people before it like chaff.

The crowd at the brink of the pool scatter'd to right and left, yelling. Up flew the beam of the ducking stool, reliev'd of their weight, and down with a splash went the pickpocket at the far end. As well for my own skin's sake as out of pity to see him drowning, I jumped into the water. In two strokes I reach'd him, gained footing, and with Anthony's sword cut the straps away and pull'd him up. And there we stood, up to our necks, coughing and spluttering; while on the deserted brink the bear sniff'd at the water and regarded us.

No doubt we appear'd contemptible enough: for after a time he turned with a louder sniff, and went his way lazily up the street again. He had broken out from the pit wherein, for the best part of the day, they had baited him; yet seemed to bear little malice. For he saunter'd about the town for an hour or two, hurting no man, but making a clean sweep of every sweet stall in his way; and was taken at last very easily, with his head in a treacle cask, by the bear ward and a few dogs.

Meanwhile the pickpocket and I had scrambled out by the further bank and wrung our clothes. He seemed to resent his treatment no more than did the bear.

“Ben cove—'tis a good world. My thanks!”

And with this scant gratitude he was gone, leaving me to make my way back to the sign of “The Boot,” where the chambermaid led me upstairs, and took away my clothes to dry by the fire. I determin'd to buy a horse on the morrow, and with my guineas and the King's letter under the pillow, dropp'd off to slumber again.

My powers of sleep must have been nois'd abroad by the hostess: for next morning at the breakfast ordinary, the dealers and drovers laid down knife and fork to stare as I enter'd. After a while one or two lounged out and brought in others to look: so that soon I was in a ring of stupid faces, all gazing like so many cows.