The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn: A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot by - (guided reading books .txt) 📕

for bringing such a thing home. So Rachel said she would lay it by for me when her new robe came home at Christmastide. Then she whispered to me last week that her father had a present for me--a cloak and hood that he thought my father would let me wear, albeit Aunt Susan might ill like it. So passing the house today, methought I might slip in and ask Rachel if I might wear the new cloak and hood to Lord Andover's; and forthwith she had me up to her room and into this scarlet petticoat in a twinkling, and mine uncle brought the white cloak and hood himself and fastened it on me, and Jacob came with the shoes and said he had had them made strong for the muddy streets, but smart with the buckles on the top. And here I be the happiest girl in all London town! Nay, Cuthbert, but I feel as if my feet could dance of themselves all the way!"

Her happiness was infectious. Cuthbert felt more like a light-hearted boy than ever he had done in his life before. His lively little companion, clinging to his arm and chattering like a magpie, effectually drove away all grave thoughts. The sun shone brightly in the steely-blue sky; the frost had made the streets absolutely clean and dry. Walking, even in the most trodden places, was easy and pleasant, and everybody seemed in excellent good humour.

Many admiring glances were levelled at the pair as they passed along--the charming blushing damsel in the white hood, and the distinguished-looking youth with the grave dark face. Cuthbert gratified the little girl's curiosity by taking her up and down Paul's Walk as they passed through St. Paul's Churchyard, and by the time they gained Fleet Street and Temple Bar she had reached the limit of her farthest walk westward.

They spent several minutes before the clock of St. Dunstan's in the West, and watched the bronze figures striking on their bells as the hour of midday sounded forth from many steeples. Then Cherry must needs go down to the river banks between the gentlemen's gardens and see how the river looked from here. She was a little awed by the grandeur of the houses all along the Strand, and wondered mightily what it could feel like to be one of the fine Court dames who drove in and out of the great gates in gilded coaches, or ambled forth upon snow-white palfreys, attended by lackeys afoot and on horseback.

Another hour had passed in delighted watching of the street sights and the fine folks who dwelt in these parts, before Cuthbert led her under the archway of the great courtyard, and told her that this was Lord Andover's house. It was one of the finest in the Strand, and it was plain that some gay festivity was in foot or in preparation; for there was such a to-ing and fro-ing of serving men, lackeys and scullions, such a clatter of voices, such an air of hurry and jollity on every face, that Cherry could have looked and listened for ever, but that Cuthbert hurried her through the crowd towards a big door opening into the courtyard, and whispered in her ear:

"They all be too busy to heed me here. Come to the house, and see what hap we have there. I may deliver this letter to none other save Lord Culverhouse himself."

The great door which stood wide open proved to be that of the kitchen--a vast hall in itself, along the farther side of which were no less than six huge fireplaces. Cooks and scullions stood at each of these, shouting out orders and moving to and fro; while a perfect crowd of menials and servants, messengers and idlers, stood or sat about, chatting, laughing, and even gaming in corners. Huge tankards of ale, hot and strongly spiced, stood upon the table, and every one who passed by appeared permitted to help himself at will.

Busy and noisy as this place was, an air of good fellowship and good humour pervaded it which was reassuring and pleasant; and before the cousins had stood many minutes in their corner, a serving man came up and asked them civilly enough of their business. Cuthbert replied that he had a letter which he had been charged to give into Lord Culverhouse's own hands; and hearing that, the servant gave a keen look at the pair, and apparently satisfied with his inspection, bid them follow him.

He took them up a wide staircase, and brought them out into another large hall, where servants of a different class were gathered together--the liveried footmen and pages and lackeys, and some waiting women, very grandly attired, who speedily beckoned Cherry amongst them, and began making much of her, rather as though she were a little child, feeding her with comfits and cakes and spiced wine, examining her soft white cloak, and asking a host of questions as to where she got it, who was the maker, and if her uncle sold his wares to the public.

Cherry had pretty, dainty little ways of her own, and was not in the least shy where she felt herself liked. She did not even miss Cuthbert when he was summoned away, so happy was she to be talked to by these fine waiting women, who were kind and comfortable souls enough. She learned on her side that there was to be a play given in half-an-hour's time within the house itself, and that all the serving men and women were permitted to witness it. She was pressed to stay and see it herself, and her eyes beamed with delight at the bare thought. To see a play had always been the very height of her youthful ambition, and had not father said that she could get no hurt at Lord Andover's house?

Presently Cuthbert came back, his face aglow with pleasure.

"Cherry," said he, "I have seen Lord Culverhouse, and methinks Kate's letter was like a talisman; for after reading it he bid me welcome as though I were in some sort a kinsman, and said that I must stay and see the mask that is to be played here in a short while, and remain as a guest at the feast which will follow, where the boar's head is to be brought in, and all sorts of revelry are to be held. I told him I could not stay till dark, for that we had promised to be home ere that; but that I would gladly see the play acting an I might. And then I told him of thee, and he bid me go fetch thee. My cousin, said he, must i' faith be in some sort his cousin, since Kate, who was his cousin, also spoke of me as one. I told him nay, but that thou wert cousin only on my mother's side; but he laughed, and would not listen, and bid me fetch thee, that he might place thee well to see the mummery. So come with me, fair cousin, for we must not keep him waiting."

Cherry's cheeks were dyed with bewitching blushes, and her big gray eyes were shining like stars, as she followed her cousin, accompanied by a little murmur of congratulation from the waiting women, who had all fallen in love with the charming child. She looked a perfect picture as she stood before Lord Culverhouse in her scarlet petticoat and snow-white hood, making her pretty quaint reverence to him, hardly daring to raise her eyes, but quite lost in the glamour of the honour done to her in being thus noticed by a real lord and good humouredly dubbed a cousin.

And then her hand was actually taken by this handsome and elegant young gallant, and she felt herself being conducted through rooms the magnificence of which she could not take in in her timid, hasty glances. She had almost begun to think it all a dream from which she must soon awaken, when she heard her companion say in his sweet voice:

"Mother mine, have you room beneath your ample wing for a little city guest--a cousin of Cuthbert Trevlyn, who has brought me a most welcome missive from my dear cousin Kate?"

And then Cherry looked up with a pretty, frightened, trusting glance, to find herself being examined and smiled at by quite a bevy of wonderfully-dressed ladies, who after one good look began to laugh in a very reassuring and kindly way, and made room in their midst for the little city maiden with that ease of true good breeding which has ever been the truest test of the blue blood of the English aristocracy. She looked such a child, in her pretty confusion and bashfulness, that not one of them resented her presence amongst them. Courtesy and kindliness had always been Lady Andover's salient characteristics, and there was a native refinement and quaint simplicity about Cherry that would have gone far to disarm severer critics than the present company round Lady Andover.

"Come, my pretty child," she said; "thou shalt sit beside me, and tell me all about thyself. The name of Trevlyn is well known and well loved in this house. Thou comest under good auspices."

And so Cherry again found herself the plaything and pet of a group of good-humoured people, though this time they were fine ladies in dresses that fairly took away her breath, as she ventured to study them with eager, furtive glances. She answered all their questions with pretty, candid frankness; told of her adventure in the osier beds, and of Cuthbert's timely rescue; told of her life under her father's roof, and her simple daily duties and pleasures. And the grand ladies listened and laughed, and made much of her; and her soft white hood was removed and admired, and passed round almost as it had been amongst the waiting women. Cherry felt quite bashful at sitting amongst those fine ladies with no cover for her head but her own curls; but she noted that the younger ladies present had no adornment beside that, unless it were a bow of ribbon or a few sparkling pins: so she took courage, and her hot cheeks burned less brightly, though she could not help her eyes sparkling and dancing beneath their long lashes as she wondered what in the world her aunt Susan would say could she see her for a moment in her present surroundings.

And then the play began, and Cherry sat entranced from the moment the curtain rose till it fell again. She had never seen anything of the sort before, and was perfectly captivated and carried away, living in the glamour of absolute enchantment, and amusing her fashionable companions almost as much by her artless admiration and enthusiasm as the players did by their mummery and stage tricks.

But time was flying all too fast, and almost as soon as the curtain fell for the last time, Cuthbert came up and carried her away, Lord Culverhouse walking with them once more through the long rooms, and insisting on their partaking of some spiced wine and game pasty before going out into the cold air again.

What with the fumes of the wine, the extraordinary grandeur of the house, and the wonderful nature of the adventure altogether, Cherry hardly knew whether or not she any longer trod on solid ground as she pursued her way along the streets clinging tight to Cuthbert's arm. It was growing dusk now, and Cuthbert was anxious to get his charge home before the early darkness should have fallen upon the city. They hardly spoke as they wended their way. Cherry gave a little gasp from time to time indicative of her unbounded delight, whilst Cuthbert was thinking pleasantly of the kind and cordial reception he had met with from Lord Culverhouse.

Both felt more or less in dreamland till they reached Abraham Dyson's house, where Cherry ran indoors again to rid herself of her finery.

When she emerged once more into the familiar streets of the city, her cheeks had lost a little of their bloom, her eyes some of their star-like brightness; and heaving a great sigh as she took Cuthbert's arm, she said:

"Ah me! it is a hard fate to be a city maid and a Puritan's daughter. I shall never see such lovely sights again! And oh, how happy I should be if only I could be a lady, and live where everything is soft and beautiful and gentle! Oh how I shall dream of it all now! But it will never be anything but a dream!" and a great tear like a diamond sparkled on the thick lashes and rolled down the girl's soft cheek.

Cuthbert had been thinking hard as he stood there in the gathering darkness. He was rather taken out of himself, which was perhaps the reason he forgot all prudence and reserve. Bending suddenly over Cherry, he kissed away the tears on her cheeks, and said in low, passionate tones:

"Nay, sweet Cherry, weep not for