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Chapter 12

  HENRY VIII. AND ANNE BOLEYN. - DISADVANTAGES OF LIVING IN SAME HOUSE WITHPAIR OF LOVERS. - A TRYING TIME FOR THE ENGLISH NATION. - A NIGHT SEARCHFOR THE PICTURESQUE. - HOMELESS AND HOUSELESS. - HARRIS PREPARES TO DIE.

  - AN ANGEL COMES ALONG. - EFFECT OF SUDDEN JOY ON HARRIS. - A LITTLESUPPER. - LUNCH. - HIGH PRICE FOR MUSTARD. - A FEARFUL BATTLE. -MAIDENHEAD. - SAILING. - THREE FISHERS. - WE ARE CURSED.

  I WAS sitting on the bank, conjuring up this scene to myself, when Georgeremarked that when I was quite rested, perhaps I would not mind helpingto wash up; and, thus recalled from the days of the glorious past to theprosaic present, with all its misery and sin, I slid down into the boatand cleaned out the frying-pan with a stick of wood and a tuft of grass,polishing it up finally with George's wet shirt.

  We went over to Magna Charta Island, and had a look at the stone whichstands in the cottage there and on which the great Charter is said tohave been signed; though, as to whether it really was signed there, or,as some say, on the other bank at "Runningmede," I decline to commitmyself. As far as my own personal opinion goes, however, I am inclinedto give weight to the popular island theory. Certainly, had I been oneof the Barons, at the time, I should have strongly urged upon my comradesthe advisability of our getting such a slippery customer as King John onto the island, where there was less chance of surprises and tricks.

  There are the ruins of an old priory in the grounds of Ankerwyke House,which is close to Picnic Point, and it was round about the grounds ofthis old priory that Henry VIII. is said to have waited for and met AnneBoleyn. He also used to meet her at Hever Castle in Kent, and alsosomewhere near St. Albans. It must have been difficult for the people ofEngland in those days to have found a spot where these thoughtless youngfolk were NOT spooning.

  Have you ever been in a house where there are a couple courting? It ismost trying. You think you will go and sit in the drawing-room, and youmarch off there. As you open the door, you hear a noise as if somebodyhad suddenly recollected something, and, when you get in, Emily is overby the window, full of interest in the opposite side of the road, andyour friend, John Edward, is at the other end of the room with his wholesoul held in thrall by photographs of other people's relatives.

  "Oh!" you say, pausing at the door, "I didn't know anybody was here.""Oh! didn't you?" says Emily, coldly, in a tone which implies that shedoes not believe you.

  You hang about for a bit, then you say:

  "It's very dark. Why don't you light the gas?"John Edward says, "Oh!" he hadn't noticed it; and Emily says that papadoes not like the gas lit in the afternoon.

  You tell them one or two items of news, and give them your views andopinions on the Irish question; but this does not appear to interestthem. All they remark on any subject is, "Oh!" "Is it?" "Did he?""Yes," and "You don't say so!" And, after ten minutes of such style ofconversation, you edge up to the door, and slip out, and are surprised tofind that the door immediately closes behind you, and shuts itself,without your having touched it.

  Half an hour later, you think you will try a pipe in the conservatory.

  The only chair in the place is occupied by Emily; and John Edward, if thelanguage of clothes can be relied upon, has evidently been sitting on thefloor. They do not speak, but they give you a look that says all thatcan be said in a civilised community; and you back out promptly and shutthe door behind you.

  You are afraid to poke your nose into any room in the house now; so,after walking up and down the stairs for a while, you go and sit in yourown bedroom. This becomes uninteresting, however, after a time, and soyou put on your hat and stroll out into the garden. You walk down thepath, and as you pass the summer-house you glance in, and there are thosetwo young idiots, huddled up into one corner of it; and they see you, andare evidently under the idea that, for some wicked purpose of your own,you are following them about.

  "Why don't they have a special room for this sort of thing, and makepeople keep to it?" you mutter; and you rush back to the hall and getyour umbrella and go out.

  It must have been much like this when that foolish boy Henry VIII. wascourting his little Anne. People in Buckinghamshire would have come uponthem unexpectedly when they were mooning round Windsor and Wraysbury, andhave exclaimed, "Oh! you here!" and Henry would have blushed and said,"Yes; he'd just come over to see a man;" and Anne would have said, "Oh,I'm so glad to see you! Isn't it funny? I've just met Mr. Henry VIII.

  in the lane, and he's going the same way I am."Then those people would have gone away and said to themselves: "Oh! we'dbetter get out of here while this billing and cooing is on. We'll godown to Kent."And they would go to Kent, and the first thing they would see in Kent,when they got there, would be Henry and Anne fooling round Hever Castle.

  "Oh, drat this!" they would have said. "Here, let's go away. I can'tstand any more of it. Let's go to St. Albans - nice quiet place, St.

  Albans."And when they reached St. Albans, there would be that wretched couple,kissing under the Abbey walls. Then these folks would go and be piratesuntil the marriage was over.

  From Picnic Point to Old Windsor Lock is a delightful bit of the river.

  A shady road, dotted here and there with dainty little cottages, runs bythe bank up to the "Bells of Ouseley," a picturesque inn, as most up-river inns are, and a place where a very good glass of ale may be drunk -so Harris says; and on a matter of this kind you can take Harris's word.

  Old Windsor is a famous spot in its way. Edward the Confessor had apalace here, and here the great Earl Godwin was proved guilty by thejustice of that age of having encompassed the death of the King'sbrother. Earl Godwin broke a piece of bread and held it in his hand.

  "If I am guilty," said the Earl, "may this bread choke me when I eat it!"Then he put the bread into his mouth and swallowed it, and it choked him,and he died.

  After you pass Old Windsor, the river is somewhat uninteresting, and doesnot become itself again until you are nearing Boveney. George and Itowed up past the Home Park, which stretches along the right bank fromAlbert to Victoria Bridge; and as we were passing Datchet, George askedme if I remembered our first trip up the river, and when we landed atDatchet at ten o'clock at night, and wanted to go to bed.

  I answered that I did remember it. It will be some time before I forgetit.

  It was the Saturday before the August Bank Holiday. We were tired andhungry, we same three, and when we got to Datchet we took out the hamper,the two bags, and the rugs and coats, and such like things, and startedoff to look for diggings. We passed a very pretty little hotel, withclematis and creeper over the porch; but there was no honeysuckle aboutit, and, for some reason or other, I had got my mind fixed onhoneysuckle, and I said:

  "Oh, don't let's go in there! Let's go on a bit further, and see ifthere isn't one with honeysuckle over it."So we went on till we came to another hotel. That was a very nice hotel,too, and it had honey-suckle on it, round at the side; but Harris did notlike the look of a man who was leaning against the front door. He saidhe didn't look a nice man at all, and he wore ugly boots: so we went onfurther. We went a goodish way without coming across any more hotels,and then we met a man, and asked him to direct us to a few.

  He said:

  "Why, you are coming away from them. You must turn right round and goback, and then you will come to the Stag."We said:

  "Oh, we had been there, and didn't like it - no honeysuckle over it.""Well, then," he said, "there's the Manor House, just opposite. Have youtried that?"Harris replied that we did not want to go there - didn't like the looksof a man who was stopping there - Harris did not like the colour of hishair, didn't like his boots, either.

  "Well, I don't know what you'll do, I'm sure," said our informant;"because they are the only two inns in the place.""No other inns!" exclaimed Harris.

  "None," replied the man.

  "What on earth are we to do?" cried Harris.

  Then George spoke up. He said Harris and I could get an hotel built forus, if we liked, and have some people made to put in. For his part, hewas going back to the Stag.

  The greatest minds never realise their ideals in any matter; and Harrisand I sighed over the hollowness of all earthly desires, and followedGeorge.

  We took our traps into the Stag, and laid them down in the hall.

  The landlord came up and said:

  "Good evening, gentlemen.""Oh, good evening," said George; "we want three beds, please.""Very sorry, sir," said the landlord; "but I'm afraid we can't manageit.""Oh, well, never mind," said George, "two will do. Two of us can sleepin one bed, can't we?" he continued, turning to Harris and me.

  Harris said, "Oh, yes;" he thought George and I could sleep in one bedvery easily.

  "Very sorry, sir," again repeated the landlord: "but we really haven'tgot a bed vacant in the whole house. In fact, we are putting two, andeven three gentlemen in one bed, as it is."This staggered us for a bit.

  But Harris, who is an old traveller, rose to the occasion, and, laughingcheerily, said:

  "Oh, well, we can't help it. We must rough it. You must give us ashake-down in the billiard-room.""Very sorry, sir. Three gentlemen sleeping on the billiard-tablealready, and two in the coffee-room. Can't possibly take you in to-night."We picked up our things, and went over to the Manor House. It was apretty little place. I said I thought I should like it better than theother house; and Harris said, "Oh, yes," it would be all right, and weneedn't look at the man with the red hair; besides, the poor fellowcouldn't help having red hair.

  Harris spoke quite kindly and sensibly about it.

  The people at the Manor House did not wait to hear us talk. The landladymet us on the doorstep with the greeting that we were the fourteenthparty she had turned away within the last hour and a half. As for ourmeek suggestions of stables, billiard-room, or coal-cellars, she laughedthem all to scorn: all these nooks had been snatched up long ago.

  Did she know of any place in the whole village where we could get shelterfor the night?

  "Well, if we didn't mind roughing it - she did not recommend it, mind -but there was a little beershop half a mile down the Eton road - "We waited to hear no more; we caught up the hamper and the bags, and thecoats and rugs, and parcels, and ran. The distance seemed more like amile than half a mile, but we reached the place at last, and rushed,panting, into the bar.

  The people at the beershop were rude. They merely laughed at us. Therewere only three beds in the whole house, and they had seven singlegentlemen and two married couples sleeping there already. A kind-heartedbargeman, however, who happened to be in the tap-room, thought we mighttry the grocer's, next door to the Stag, and we went back.

  The grocer's was full. An old woman we met in the shop then kindly tookus along with her for a quarter of a mile, to a lady friend of hers, whooccasionally let rooms to gentlemen.

  This old woman walked very slowly, and we were twenty minutes getting toher lady friend's. She enlivened the journey by describing to us, as wetrailed along, the various pains she had in her back.

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