The Sot-Weed Factor (61 page)

"Nor time, by Crispin's last," said Richard Sowter, who had emerged from the sloop's cabin in time to hear this last remark, "for yonder off to larboard is Castlehaven Point, and two points farther down is Cooke's."

Ebenezer groaned. "What tidings those should be! And yet 'tis like a knell of death, for de'il the bit I want to see my home, 'tis mine no more, and once I've seen it my life is done."

"Oh la," said Sowter, "there's always some expedient. Ye may at least console yourself 'twas not rum, wrongheadedness, or the rage o' the mob brought ye low, but simple pride and innocence, such as have ruined many a noble wight before. See that house yonder in the poplars?"

The sloop had cleared Castlehaven Point and was now laid over on a starboard tack due westward into a fresh breeze blowing from the Bay. Ashore off the larboard beam had appeared a large white clapboard manor.

"Not Malden so soon!" cried the poet.

"Nay. St. Clement's anchor, 'tis Castlehaven, and where it stands once stood a very castle of a manor-house called
Edouardine,
that was built to last till the end o' time.
There
is a tale o' costly pride, if the truth of it were known."

Ebenezer remembered the story of the young woman whom his father had rescued from drowning and who had served as wet nurse for himself and Anna until Andrew's return to England. "Methinks I have heard the name," he said gloomily. "I've not fortitude enough to hear the tale."

"Nor I time to tell it," Sowter replied. He pointed to a wooded spit of land some five or six miles to westward, across the expanse of the river's mouth. "There lies Cooke's Point ahead. Ye'll see Malden in a minute, when we're closer."

"God damn your lying soul, Dick Sowter!" cried Tom Tayloe. "Will ye carry this fraud so far?"

Sowter smiled as if surprised. "St. Cuthbert's beads, sir, I know not what fraud ye speak of. Pardon me whilst I get my papers ready for Mr. Smith."

When he had gone again into the cabin, Tayloe clutched at Ebenezer's deerskin shirt. "Thou'rt ill, are ye not, and want nursing back to health?"

"That I'm ill is clear," Ebenezer answered. "But what need hath a ruined man of health? I mean to have one look at Malden and end my life."

"Nay, man, that were foolish! Ye have been swived out o' your rightful place, as I have been, but thou'rt not disliked amongst the public and the courts. Smith and Sowter have undone ye for the present, yet it wants but time, methinks, and careful thought, to have your manor back."

Ebenezer shook his head. "That is vain hope, and cruel to entertain."

"Not at all!" Tayloe insisted. "There is the Governor to appeal to, and belike thy father hath some influence in court. With time enough, and patience, thou'rt sure to find some trick. Why, I'll wager ye have not even seen a barrister yet, that might match old Sowter's craft with craft of his own."

Ebenezer admitted that he had not. "Yet 'tis a lost cause after all," he sighed. "I've not a penny to subsist on, nor any friend to borrow from, and scarce can walk for fever."

"That is my point exactly," Tayloe said. "Ye know I'm not McEvoy, and have been falsely bonded for a servant, and I've shown ye how hopeless is my case. Once I set foot on Cooke's Point I lose four years o' my life -- nay, more; 'twill be no chore for Sowter to have the term drawn out on some pretext, since he knows Judge Hammaker will support him."

"Haply 'tis my illness," said Ebenezer. "I fail to see what connection --"

"If this Smith signs my indenture-bond, I'm lost," Tayloe said desperately. "But if 'twere
you
he bonded. . ."

"I?"

"Pray hear me out!" the fat man pleaded. " 'Twould be the answer to both our problems if you served in my stead. I would be free o' Sowter's clutches, and 'tis the master's obligation to feed, clothe, and house his servants, and nurse 'em when they're ill."

Ebenezer screwed up his features as if to aid him in assimilating the idea. "But to be a servant on my own estate!"

"So much the better. Ye can keep your eyes open for ways to get your due. And once I'm free, d'ye think I'll e'er forget your kindness? I'll move Heav'n and earth in your behalf; notify your father --"

"Nay, not that!" Ebenezer blanched at the thought.

"Governor Nicholson, then," Tayloe amended hastily. "I'll petition Nicholson himself, rouse the folk in Dorset to your cause! They'll ne'er sit idly whilst their Laureate leads a servant's life!"

"But four years a menial --"

"Fogh! 'Twill never last four weeks, once I set to work. 'Tis the master o' Malden ye'll be indented to, not Smith himself, and as soon as Malden's in your hands again, ye may use your bond for a bumswipe."

Ebenezer laughed uneasily. "I cannot say your plan hath not some merits --"

" 'Twill save your life, and mine as well!"

"-- and yet I scarce can fancy Sowter's hearing you out, much less agreeing."

"There is the key to't!" Tayloe whispered urgently, and drew the Laureate closer. " 'Twere wise
you
make the plea -- and not to Sowter, but to Smith, who hath no reason to be my enemy. One servant should be as good as another to him."

"Yet if 'twere I," Ebenezer mused, recalling again the story of his wet nurse, "I'd be more inclined to hire a healthy servant than an ill."

"Not if the ill is willing," Tayloe corrected, "whilst the healthy shows every sign o' making trouble. Make your bargain with Smith, as if 'twere but your motive to regain your health and redress the great injustice of my case."

Ebenezer smiled bitterly. "He knows me already for a man most interested in justice! And belike 'twill please him to have his erstwhile master for a common servant. . ."

Tayloe made as if to embrace him. "Bless ye, sir! Ye'll do't, then?"

Ebenezer drew back. "I've not consented, mind. But 'tis that or suicide, and so it deserves some thought."

Tayloe caught his hand and kissed it. " 'Sheart, sir, thou'rt a very Christian saint!"

"Which is to say, fit meat for martyring," the Laureate answered, "a morsel for the wide world's lions."

The reappearance of Sowter on deck ended their conversation. "Say what ye will," he declared, not clearly apropos of anything, " 'twas a passing fine property to lose, by Martin's rum pot, and were I in thy shoes I'd do all in my power to retrieve it -- e'en if 'twere no more than praying to St. Elian, the recoverer of lost goods."

As he spoke he was gazing narrow-eyed out to sea, so that for a moment Ebenezer feared he'd overheard their plans and was hatching some retaliation. But then he said, "Lookee yonder, lad," and with a sheaf of rolled-up documents pointed westward in the direction of his gaze. Though still some two or three miles from shore, the sloop had beaten close enough on its starboard tack so that individual trees could be distinguished -- maples and oaks on the higher ground and loblolly pines near the beach -- and a boat dock could be seen extending toward them from a lawn of grass that ran back to a white wooden house of gracious design and ample dimensions.

"Is there a tale to that one too?" Ebenezer asked without interest.

"St. Veronica's sacred snot-rag, boy, thou'rt a better judge than I," the lawyer laughed. " 'Tis Malden."

The Laureate Attains Husbandhood at No

Expense Whatever of His Innocence

As
Sowter's sloop drew
nearer to the shore, the estate became visible in more detail, and Ebenezer gazed at it with an ever queasier stomach. The house, to be sure, was somewhat smaller than he had anticipated, and of perishable white-painted clapboards rather than the fieldstone one might wish for; the grounds, too, evidenced little attention to artful landscaping on the part of his father and indifferent care on the part of the residents. But viewed through the triple lenses of fever, loss, and earliest childhood memories, the place took on a noble aspect.

His first thought, oddly, was of his sister Anna. "Dear Heav'n!" he reflected, and tears made his vision swim. "I have let our ancient home slip through my fingers! God curse such innocence!"

This last ejaculation reminded him of Andrew, and though he shuddered at the thought of his father's wrath when the news reached England, he could not help almost wishing that that rage and punishment were upon him, so more miserable and unconsoling was his present self-contempt. Tayloe's startling proposal was rendered more attractive by this notion: not only would it provide him with the subsistence and medical care he needed and a chance, however slim, of regaining the estate; indenturing himself to the "master of Malden" would also be a punishment -- indeed, to his essentially poetic and currently feverish fancy, even a kind of atonement -- for his misdeeds. His innocence had cost him his estate; very well, then, he would be the servant of his innocence -- and perhaps, even, as the term
redemptioner
implied, expiate thereby his folly by undoing the cooper William Smith.

When the sloop made fast to the dock, Sowter left Tayloe shackled to the gunwale and invited Ebenezer to accompany him up to the house.

" 'Tis not for me to say how welcome ye'll be, but at the least ye may enquire about your servant and your lady friend, and have a look about."

"Aye, and I must see Smith as well," the Laureate said weakly. "I have a thing to say to him."

"Ah, well, we have some business to attend to, he and I, but after that -- Lookee, by Goodman's needle! There he comes to greet us. Hallo, there!"

The cooper waved back from the doorway of the house and walked down the lawn in their direction, accompanied by a woman in a Scotch-cloth gown.

"I'faith!" Ebenezer exclaimed. "Is that the trollop Susan Warren?"

"Mr. Smith's daughter," Sowter reminded him.

As they drew nearer, Susan regarded the Laureate intently; Ebenezer, for his part, was filled with anger and shame, and avoided her eyes.

"Well, well," Smith cried, " 'tis Mister Cooke! I did not know ye at first in your new clothes, sir, but thou'rt welcome to Malden for certain and must stay to dinner!"

"Methinks he's ill," Susan said with some concern.

"I am sick unto death," Ebenezer said, and could say no more; he swayed dizzily on his feet, and was obliged to catch Sowter's arm to keep from falling.

"Take him inside," Smith ordered Susan. "Haply Doctor Sowter can give him a pill when we've done our business."

The girl obediently and to the Laureate's embarrassment put his arm across her shoulders and led him toward the house. Except that she seemed to have washed, she was as ragged and unkempt now as when he had first seen her driving Captain Mitchell's swine, and even the brief glimpse of her that his shame permitted was enough to show that her face and neck were even more disfigured than before by marks and welts.

"Where is Joan Toast?" he asked, as soon as he was able. "Hath your wretch of a father mistreated her?"

"She never did arrive," Susan answered shortly. "Belike she misdoubted your intentions: a whore hath little grounds for faith in men."

"And a man for faith in whores! I swear you this, Susan Warren: if you have been party to any injury to that girl, you'll suffer for't!" He wanted to press her further, but aside from his weakness there were two unpleasant considerations that kept him from pursuing the subject: in the first place, Joan might well have learned that the man she sought was suddenly a pauper and thus, in her eyes, no longer worth seeking; in the second, she might have got word of McEvoy's having followed her to Maryland, and gone to join him instead. Therefore, when Susan assured him that if any injury had befallen Joan Toast it was not at her, Susan's, hands, he contented himself with asking after Bertrand, whom Burlingame had dispatched to St. Mary's City to retrieve the Laureate's baggage.

"The trunk ye sent him to fetch is here," the girl replied. " 'Twas sent over by the packet from St. Mary's. But of the man I've seen no trace, nor heard a word."

"Whom Fortune buffets, the whole world beats,"
sighed Ebenezer. " 'Tis best for both if they've found new ground to graze, for I've naught to keep wife or servant on any more. But withal, their lack of loyalty wounds me to the quick!"

They entered the house, and though the interior showed the same need of attention as the outside, the rooms were spacious and adequately furnished, and the Laureate wept to see them.

"How like a paradise Malden seems to me, now I've lost it!" He found it necessary to sit down, but when Susan made to assist him he waved her away angrily. "Why feign concern for a sick and feckless pauper? I doubt not you've made peace with your father, now he's a gentleman planter -- get thee gone and play the great lady on my estate! What, you have a tear for me, do you?
When all's consum'd, repentance comes too late."

Susan dabbed immodestly at her eyes with the hem of her threadbare dress. "Thou'rt not the only person injured by your day in court."

"Ha! Your father birched you, did he, for taking the stand against him?"

Susan shook her head sadly. "Things are not as they seem, Mister Cooke --"

"I'God!" Ebenezer clasped his head. "The old refrain! My estate and Anna's dowry is lost, my best friend hath betrayed me and left me to starve, the woman I love hath either met foul play or scorned me for a pauper, I am as good as disowned by my father and near dead of the seasoning, and in my final hours on earth I must abide the wisdom of a thankless strumpet!"

"Haply yell understand one day," Susan said. "I have no wish to do ye farther hurt than ye've done yourself already!"

With this remark the woman fled weeping from the room,

"Nay, wait!" the Laureate begged, and despite his illness he set out after her to apologize for his unkind words. He was, however, unable to move with any haste or efficiency, and soon lost her. He wandered through a number of empty rooms, uncertain of his objective, until at last he found himself in what appeared to be the kitchen. Three women, all in the dress of servants, were playing a game of cards around a table; they regarded him uncordially.

"I beg your pardon, ladies," he said, leaning against the doorframe; "I am looking for Mrs. Susan Warren."

"Then thou'rt seeking an early grave," the dealer quipped, and the others laughed merrily. "Get along with ye, now; 'tis too early in the day to bother Susie or any o' the rest of us."

"Forgive me," Ebenezer said hastily. "I had no mind to intrude upon your game."

" 'Tis but a simple hand of lanterloo," said the woman with the cards.

"Simple to misdeal!" cried another, who spoke with a French accent. "What is it that you do? Cheat me?"

"Ye dare call me a cheat!" the first replied. "Thou'rt something brave for one not a fortnight loose o' your serving-papers!"

"Hold thy tongue,
bo
î
te s
è
che!"
growled the French woman. "I know Captain Scurry swived you for your freight, what time he fetched you off the streets and shipped you hither!"

"No more than Slye did you," cried the dealer, "though God alone knows why a man would swive a sow!"

"I beg your pardon," Ebenezer interrupted. "If you are servants of the house --"

"Non, certainement,
I am no servant!"

"The truth is," said the dealer, "Grace here's a hooker."

"A what?" asked the poet.

"A hooker," the woman repeated with a wink. "A
quail,
don't ye know."

"A quail!" the woman named Grace shrieked. "You call me a quail, you --
gaullefreti
è
re!"

"Whore!" shouted the first.

"Bas-cul!"
retorted the other.

"Frisker!"

"Consoeur!"

"Trull!"

"Friquenelle!"

"Sow!"

"Usag
è
re!"

"Bawd!"

"Viag
è
re!"

"Strawgirl!"

"S
é
rane!"

"Tumbler!"

"Poupinette!"

"Mattressback!"

"Brimballeuse!"

"Nannygoat!"

"Chouette!"

"Windowgirl!"

"Wauve!"

"Lowgap!"

"Peaultre!"

"Galleywench!"

"Baque!"

"Drab!"

"Fastfanny!"

"Gaure!"

"Ringer!"

"Bringue!"

"Capercock!"

"Ancelle!"

"Nellie!"

"Galli
è
re!"

"Chubcheeker!"

"Ch
è
vre!"

"Nightbird!"

"Paillasse!"

"Rawhide!"

"Capre!"

"Shortheels!"

"Paillarde!"

"Bumbessie!"

"Image!"

"Furrowbutt!"

"Voyag
è
re!"

"Pinkpot!"

"Femme de vie!"

"Rum-and-rut!"

"Fellatrice!"

"Ladies! Ladies!" the Laureate cried, but by this time the cardplayers, including the two disputants, were possessed with mirth, and paid him no heed.

"Coxswain!" shouted the one whose turn it was to play.

"Trotti
è
re!"
Grace replied.

"Conycatcher!"

"Gourgandine!"

"Tart!"

"Coquatrice!"

"Fluter!"

"Coign
é
e!"

"Cockeye!"

"Pelerine!"

"Crane!"

"Dr
ô
llesse!"

"Trotter!"

"Pellice!"

"Fleecer!"

"Toupie!"

"Fatback!"

"Saffrette!"

"Nightbag!"

"Reveleuse!"

"Vagrant!"

"Postiqueuse!"

"Arsebender!"

"Tireuse de vinaigre!"

"Sally-dally!"

"Rigobette!"

"Bitch!"

"Pr
ê
tresse du membre!"

"Saltflitch!"

"Sourdite!"

"Canvasback!"

"Redresseuse!"

"Hipflipper!"

"Personni
è
re!"

"Hardtonguer!"

"Ribaulde!"

"Bedbug!"

"Posoera!"

"Hamhocker!"

"Ricaldex!"

"Bullseye!"

"Sac-de-nuit!"

"Breechdropper!"

"Roussecaigne!"

"Giftbox!"

"Scaldrine!"

"Craterbutt!"

"Tendri
è
re de reins!"

"Pisspallet!"

"Presenti
è
re!"

"Narycherry!"

"Femme de mal recapte!"

"Poxbox!"

"Tousel"

"Flapgap!"

"Rafati
è
re!"

"Codhopper!"

"Courieuse!"

"Bellylass!"

"Gondinette!"

"Trollop!"

"Esquoceresse!"

"Peddlesnatch!"

"Folieuse!"

"Backgammon!"

"Gondine!"

"Joygirl!"

"Drue!"

"Prickpocket!"

"Galloise!"

"Dear God in Heav'n, cease!" Ebenezer commanded.

"Nay, by Christ, 'tis a war to the end!" cried the dealer. "Would ye surrender to the French? Why, she's naught but a common meatcooker!"

"And you a
janneton!"
the other replied gleefully.

"Arsievarsie!"

"Fillette de pis!"

"Backscratcher!"

"Demoiselle de morals!"

"Bumpbacon!"

"Gaulti
è
re!"

"Full-o'-tricks!"

"Ensaignante!"

"Pesthole!"

"Gast!"

"Romp!"

"Court talon!"

"Pigpoke!"

"Folle de corps!"

"Scabber!"

"Gouine!"

"Strumpet!"

"Fille de joie!"

"Gullybum!"

"Drouine!"

"Tess Tuppence!"

"Gaupe!"

"Slattern!"

"Entaille d'amour!"

"Doxy!"

"Accrocheuse!"

"Chippie!"

"Cloistri
è
re!"

"Puddletrotter!"

"Bagasser!"

"Hetaera!"

"Caignardi
è
re!"

"Pipecleaner!"

"Barathre!"

"Rumper!"

"Cambrouse!"

"Hotpot!"

"Alicaire!"

"Backbender!"

"Champisse!"

"Sink-o'-perdition!"

"Cantonni
è
re!"

"Leasepiece!"

"Ambubaye!"

"Spreadeagle!"

"Bassara!"

"Gutterflopper!"

"Bezoche!"

"Cockatrice!"

"Caille!"

"Sausage-grinder!"

"Bourbeteuse!"

"Cornergirl!"

"Braydone!"