A Reputed Changeling Read online

  CHAPTER III: THE FAIRY KING

  "She's turned her right and round about, And thrice she blew on a grass-green horn,And she sware by the moon and the stars above That she'd gar me rue the day I was born."

  Old Ballad of Alison Cross.

  Dr. Woodford's parish was Portchester, where stood the fine oldroyal castle at present ungarrisoned, and partly dismantled in therecent troubles, on a chalk peninsula, a spur from Portsdown,projecting above the alluvial flats, and even into the harbour,whose waves at high tide laved the walls. The church and churchyardwere within the ample circuit of the fortifications, about twofurlongs distant from the main building, where rose the mightyNorman keep, above the inner court, with a gate tower at this date,only inhabited by an old soldier as porter with his family. Amassive square tower at each angle of the huge wall likewise defieddecay.

  It was on Midsummer eve, that nearly about sundown, Dr. Woodford wassummoned by the severe illness of the gatekeeper's old father, andhis sister-in-law went with him to attempt what her skill couldaccomplish for the old man's relief.

  They were detained there till the sun had long set, though the air,saturated with his redness, was full of soft twilight, while themoon, scarcely past the full, was just high enough to silver thequiet sea, and throw the shadow of the battlements and towers on thesward whitened with dew.

  After the close atmosphere of the sickroom the freshness waswelcome, and Mrs. Woodford, once a friend of Katherine Phillips,'the Matchless Orinda,' had an eye and a soul to appreciate thebeauty, and she even murmured the lines of Il Penseroso as she leanton the arm of her brother-in-law, who, in his turn, thought ofHomer.

  Suddenly, as they stood in the shadow, they were aware of a small,slight, fantastic figure in the midst of the grass-grown court,where there was a large green mushroom circle or fairy ring. On theborders of this ring it paused with an air of disappointment. Thenentering it stood still, took off the hat, whose lopsided appearancehad given so strange an outline, and bowed four times in oppositedirections, when, as the face was turned towards the spectators,invisible in the dark shadow, the lady recognised PeregrineOakshott. She pressed the Doctor's arm, and they both stood stillwatching the boy bathing his hand in the dew, and washing his facewith it, then kneeling on one knee, and clasping his hands, as hecried aloud in a piteous chant--

  "Fairy mother, fairy mother! Oh, come, come and take me home! Myvery life is sore to me. They all hate me! My brothers and theservants, every one of them. And my father and tutor say I ampossessed with an evil spirit, and I am beaten daily, and more thandaily. I can never, never get a good word from living soul! Thisis the second seven years, and Midsummer night! Oh, bring the otherback again! I'm weary, I'm weary! Good elves, good elves, take mehome. Fairy mother! Come, come, come!" Shutting his eyes heseemed to be in a state of intense expectation. Tears filled Mrs.Woodford's eyes. The Doctor moved forward, but no sooner did theboy become conscious of human presence than he started up, and fledwildly towards a postern door, but no sooner had he disappeared inthe shadow than there was a cry and a fall.

  "Poor child!" exclaimed Dr. Woodford, "he has fallen down the stepsto the vault. It is a dangerous pitfall."

  They both hurried to the place, and found the boy lying on the stepsleading down to the vault, but motionless, and when they succeededin lifting him up, he was quite unconscious, having evidently struckhis head against the mouth of the vault.

  "We must carry him home between us," said Mrs. Woodford. "That willbe better than rousing Miles Gateward, and making a coil."

  Dr. Woodford, however, took the entire weight, which he declared tobe very slight. "No one would think the poor child fourteen yearsold," he observed, "yet did he not speak of a second seven?"

  "True," said Mrs. Woodford, "he was born after the Great Fire ofLondon, which, as I have good cause to know, was in the year '66."

  There was still little sign of revival about the boy when he hadbeen carried into the Parsonage, undressed and laid in the Doctor'sown bed, only a few moans when he was handled, and on his thin,sharp features there was a piteous look of sadness entirely unlikehis ordinary expression of malignant fun, and which went to the kindhearts of the Doctor and Mrs. Woodford. After exhausting their ownremedies, as soon as the early daylight was available Dr. Woodfordcalled up a couple of servants, and sent one into Portsmouth for asurgeon, and another to Oakwood to the parents.

  The doctor was the first to arrive, though not till the morning waswell advanced. He found that three ribs were broken against theedge of the stone step, and the head severely injured, and havinghad sufficient experience in the navy to be a reasonably safepractitioner, he did nothing worse than bleed the patient, anddeclared that absolute rest was the only hope of recovery.

  He was being regaled with cold roast pig and ale when Major Oakshottrode up to the door. Four horses were dragging the great lumberingcoach over Portsdown hill, but he had gone on before, to thank Dr.and Mrs. Woodford for their care of his unfortunate son, and to makepreparations for his transport home under the care of his wife's ownwoman, who was coming in the coach in the stead of the invalid lady.

  "Nay, sir. Master Brent here has a word to say to that matter,"replied the Doctor.

  "Truly, sir, I have," said the surgeon; "in his present state it isas much as your son's life is worth to move him."

  "Be that as it may seem to man, he is in the hand of Heaven, and heought to be at home, whether for life or death."

  "For death it will assuredly be, sir, if he be jolted and shakenalong the Portsdown roads--yea, I question whether you would get himto Oakwood alive," said Brent, with naval roughness.

  "Indeed, sir," added Mrs. Woodford, "Mrs. Oakshott may be assured ofmy giving him as tender care as though he were mine own son."

  "I am beholden to you, madam," said the Major; "I know yourkindliness of heart; but in good sooth, the unhappy and rebelliouslad merits chastisement rather than pity, since what should he bedoing at this distance from home, where he was shut up for hismisdemeanours, save fleeing like the Prodigal of the parable, orelse planning another of his malicious pranks, as I greatly fear, onyou or your daughter, madam. If so, he hath fallen into the pitthat he made for others."

  The impulse was to tell what had occurred, but the surgeon'spresence, and the dread of making all worse for the poor boy checkedboth the hosts, and Mrs. Woodford only declared that since the dayof the apology he had never molested her or her little girl.

  "Still," said the Major, "it is not possible to leave him in astranger's house, where at any moment the evil spirit that is in himmay break forth."

  "Come and see him, and judge," said Dr. Woodford.

  When the father beheld the deathly face and motionless form, sternas he was, he was greatly shocked. His heavy tread caused a moan,and when he said "What, Perry, how now?" there was a painfulshrinking and twitching, which the surgeon greeted as evidence ofreturning animation, but which made him almost drag the Major out ofthe room for fear of immediate consequences.

  Major Oakshott, and still more the servant, who had arrived in thecoach and come upstairs, could not but be convinced that removal wasnot to be thought of. The maid was, moreover, too necessary to hermistress to be left to undertake the nursing, much to her master'sregret, but to the joy of Mrs. Woodford, who felt certain that byfar the best chance for the poor boy was in his entire separationfrom all associations with the home where he had evidently sufferedso much.

  There was, perhaps, nothing except the pageship at Court that couldhave gone more against Major Oakshott's principles than to leave hisson in the house of a prelatical minister, but alternative there wasnone, and he could only express how much he was beholden to the Dr.and Mrs. Woodford.

  All their desire was that he would remain at a distance, for duringthe long and weary watch they had to keep over the half-consciouslad, the sound of a voice or even a horse's tread from Oakwoodoccasioned moans and restlessness. The Major rode over, or sent hissons,
or a servant daily to inquire during the first fortnight,except on the Sundays, and on each of these the patient made a steptowards improvement.

  At first he lay in a dull, death-like stupor, only groaning ifdisturbed, but by and by there was a babbling murmur of words, andsoon the sound of his brother's loud voice at the door, demandingfrom the saddle how it went to-day with Peregrine, caused a shriekof terror and such a fit of trembling that Mrs. Woodford had to goout and make a personal request that Oliver would never again speakunder the window. To her great relief, when the balance betweenlife and death had decidedly turned, the inquiries became lessfrequent, and could often be forestalled by sending messengers toOakwood.

  The boy usually lay still all day in the darkened room, only showingpain at light or noise, but at night he often talked and rambled agood deal. Sometimes it was Greek or Latin, sometimes wholechapters of Scripture, either denunciating portions or genealogiesfrom the First Book of Chronicles, the polysyllabic names pouringfrom his mouth whenever he was particularly oppressed or suffering,so that when Mrs. Woodford had with some difficulty made out whatthey were, she concluded that they had been set as tasks of penance.

  At other times Peregrine talked as if he absolutely believed himselfin fairyland, accepting a strawberry or cherry as elfin food,promising a tester in Anne's shoe when she helped to change hispillow, or conversing in the style of Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, onintended pranks. Often he fancied himself the lubber fiend restingat the fire his hairy strength, and watching for cock-crow as thesignal for flinging out-of-doors. It was wonderful how in the grimand strict Puritanical household he could have imbibed so much fairylore, but he must have eagerly assimilated and recollected whateverhe heard, holding them as tidings from his true kith and kin; and,indeed, when he was running on thus, Mrs. Woodford sometimes felt acertain awe and chill, as of the preternatural, and could hardlybelieve that he belonged to ordinary human nature. Either she orthe Doctor always took the night-watch after the talking mood setin, for they could not judge of the effect it might have on any ofthe servants. Indeed they sometimes doubted whether this were notthe beginning of permanent insanity, as the delusion seemed tostrengthen with symptoms of recovery.

  "Then," said Dr. Woodford, "Heaven help the poor lad!"

  For sad indeed was the lot in those days of even the most harmlesslunatic.

  "Yet," said the lady, "I scarcely think anything can be worse thanwhat he undergoes at home. When I hear the terror and misery of hisvoice, I doubt whether we did him any true kindness by hindering hisfather from killing him outright by the shaking of his old coach."

  "Nay, sister, we strove to do our duty, though it may be we havetaken on ourselves a further charge."