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HOME > Classical Novels > The Master of Appleby > 34 HOW I MET A GREAT LORD AS MAN TO MAN
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34 HOW I MET A GREAT LORD AS MAN TO MAN
 The room in which I found myself was the guest-chamber, furnished luxuriously1, for that day and place, in French-fashioned mahogany and gilt2. The bed was high and richly canopied3, as befitted a peer's resting place; there was a square of Turkish drugget on the floor, a cheerful fire burning in the chimney arch, and on the small table whereat the occupant of the guest-room had lately breakfasted, a goodly display of the Ireton silver.  
My Lord was busy at his writing-desk when I entered; but when he looked up I saw the light of instant recognition in his eye. Never, I think, did another prisoner at the bar strive harder to read his sentence in his judge's eyes than I did in that moment of suspense4. I liked not much the look he gave me; but his greeting was affable and kindly5 enough.
 
"Ah, Captain Ireton; 'tis you, is it? We are well met, at last. They told me you were gone to join the rebels, did they not?"
 
Here was an opening for a bold man, and in a flash I came to the right-about, choked down the defiance6 I had meant to hurl7 at him, and took quick counsel of cool audacity8.
 
"Indeed, my Lord, I know not what they have told you. In times past, the king had no truer soldier than I; and when I came across seas 'twas not to fight against him. But that I have not joined the rebels is no fault of certain of your Lordship's officers."
 
"Say you so? But how is this? Surely I am not mistaken. I could be certain Colonel Tarleton reported your taking as a spy, and his trying of you. And was there not something about a rescue at the last moment by a band of these border bravos? But stay; let us have the colonel's story at first hands. Have the goodness to ring the bell for me, will you, Captain?"
 
The crisis was come. A pull at the bell-cord would summon the guard, and the guard would be sent after Colonel Tarleton. Well, said the demon9 Despair, 'tis time you were gone to make room for Richard Jennifer; and I laid a hand upon the tasseled10 rope. But when I would have rung, all the man-pride, of race and of soldier training, rose up to bid me fight for space to strike one good blow in freedom's cause by way of leave-taking.
 
So, as it had been an afterthought, I said: "A word further with you first, my Lord, and then, if you please, I will call the guard. All you remember is true, save as to the principal fact. So far from being a spy in intent, or even a partizan of either side, I was at the time but newly come into the province, knowing little of the cause of quarrel and caring still less. But Captain Falconnet and Colonel Tarleton did their earnest best to make a rebel of me out of hand."
 
"Ah? But the proof of all this, Captain Ireton."
 
"The best I can offer is the present fact of my coming to place myself at your Lordship's disposal, being moved thereto by your Lordship's own desire expressed in an order sent some weeks since to Sir Francis Falconnet."
 
"So?—then you knew of that order?"
 
"Captain Falconnet showed it to me after I was condemned11 and the firing squad12 was drawn13 up to snuff me out."
 
My Lord Charles gave me the courtier smile that so endeared him to his soldiers,—he was well-loved of his men,—and bade me sit.
 
"The plot thickens, as Mr. Richardson would say. Let me have your story, Captain Ireton. I would rejoice to know why Captain Sir Francis Falconnet saw fit to disobey his orders."
 
I was clear of the lee shore and the breakers at last, but I was fain to believe that not Machiavelli himself could hope to weather the storm in the open. How much or how little did Lord Cornwallis remember of Colonel Tarleton's report? How explicit14 had that report been?—was there any mention in it of my eavesdropping15 at the conference between Captain John Stuart and the baronet; of my attempt to warn the over-mountain men against the Indian-arming? Could I hope to tell his Lordship a tale so near the truth as to be unassailable by Tarleton and his officers, by Gilbert Stair and the spiteful little pettifogger, and yet so deftly16 garbled17 as to keep my neck out of the halter for the time being?
 
All these questions thronged18 upon me as a mob to pull cool reason from her seat, and I could only play the part of the trapped rat and snap back at them. Yet my Lord Cornwallis was waiting for his answer, and a single moment's hesitation19 might breed suspicion.
 
You must forgive me, my dears, if I............
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