Ram; being the tale of one Ramillies Anstruther, 1704-55 .. (44 page)

So the pair supped together that night and, her mind eased, she talked about herself. If only talent were rewarded, she sighed, she'd be the town's toast! She needed but the opportunity to prove that her Desdemona, her Mrs. Sullen and her Lady Betty Modish far surpassed the pallid portrayals by the ladies who presently played such roles. Knowing nothing of players, he was impressed. If I can overcome her scruples and I've money again, he thought, I could help her win fame. Others have actresses in keeping, but none so beautiful as she. He fell asleep well pleased with such prospects.

Next day Peg-Leg reported there'd been a funeral from the baron's house, though whose none knew. Erinne? Ram chilled. Finding herself with child and fearing to face her father, had she killed herself?

But, no, more likely it was the dropsical mother. He sent Parker back to ferret out the truth. After several days the latter could report that only old Pepe, going shopping, ever left the house. Ram became sick with anxiety.

Too, Joseph stated indignantly that all the furniture and goods had been sold for a fraction of their worth, bought by the creditors themselves on their own terms. And, though the sale had paid off over £2,500 of debts, another £2,500 of new bills had come in. Also, Williams returned, riding a hackney with Will's reply, which was that mortgages were hard to raise, though he'd do his best. He was shocked by Ram's troubles, especially since cash was needed to develop the mines.

Raw-nerved and helpless. Ram found solace in Lucinda's company. Her beauty held him in thrall, yet he'd never known a girl so prudish. He was irritated yet fascinated at how she'd blush and scurry back to her room whenever his eyes strayed to the swell of her well-covered breasts. Damme, ain't actresses to be admired? Without her gown, she must look like Venus; yet she won't let me kiss even her fingertips! On a day late in May Peg-Leg stumped in excitedly. A white-eyebrowed gentleman had arrived at the Spanish house. "And there's two coaches at the door being loaded with trunks," he puffed. "WTiat must I do, sir?"

"Follow wherever they go!" Ram snapped. "Send up Knype. Go!" At last! he exulted. He'll not escape me this time! He was cursing Knype's slowness when the dwarf shuffled in. "What d'ye want, Cap'n? I ain't no lackey to—"

Ram sprang at him, seized his keys, threw him on the bed, then sped from the room, shooting the outside bolts. Downstairs, he reached the front door, found the right key and unlocked it. But, a sword! Recklessly he dashed into Squilp's room. It was empty. There, by the fireplace, gathering dust! His self-esteem returned as he buckled it on; then out into the street and running north, looking for a coach. Only in Holborn did he find one and fling himself, panting, inside. "Cavendish Square, and drive like the devil!"

He sat back, planning. He'd be ice cold and bitingly satirical as he inquired if del Lago's daughter had ever mentioned her love, John Royston. Then he'd reveal his double identity. If he doesn't draw then, I'll beat him with the flat of my blade!

Farther west, the way became jammed with coaches and chairs; stoppages were frequent. "Take a less traveled route!" he shouted to the Jehu, and promised him triple fare. The man obeyed, turning into a north-running street. It, too, had blocks, but the jam was breaking as southbound vehicles passed his, wheels almost locking with the northbound ones in the narrow roadway.

Glancing into one passing coach. Ram stiffened. Dona Dorotea! He saw her gape in recognition; saw Erinne's profile beyond hers— and del Lago's. He leaped for the door, but already they'd gone and a following coach prevented his swinging the door open. He sprang for the other, but it was opened from the outside by Squilp, pistol pointed.

"Make no move or ye're dead!" the bailiff panted. "And 'and over yer sticker—quick!" Followed by one of his bandogs, also armed, he climbed in.

Too cramped in the narrow space even to draw, Ram was helpless. Groaning, he sank back and let Squilp disarm him.

"And me trustin' ye like a son!" the latter complained. "Wot's come over ye? And me next door at the tavern, drinkin' a glass wiv a gent wot says 'e's yer cousin, come wiv enough fer yer discharge!"

"I wasn't escaping. I'd have come back," Ram mumbled, stunned.

"So you say!" Squilp ordered the coach back to the Fleet Liberty, then shook his head mournfully. "The alarm's out, Cap'n. Nat sees ye from yer winder an' yells out. I 'ear 'im and starts after ye wiv Arthur 'ere, while Tom nips over to the Fleet for 'elp. Now I'll 'ave to 'and ye over to the Warden."

Ram was praying that Peg-Leg was following del Lago. God, another minute and I'd have had him! he groaned. Only then did he realize what Squilp had told him. "My cousin's here? He's brought money?"

"So he sez. Well, if ye're to be discharged, p'raps I won't 'ave to 'and ye over. But 'tis sore bad for me reputation, a client escaping from me very 'ouse. By rights I should swear out a warrant."

The threat. Ram knew, was so that Squilp could squeeze the last drops from what had been very luscious fruit. "I promise you won't lose. I wasn't running, only keeping a vital engagement." Dully he realized that del Lago must be leaving for good, since he'd taken

the women and the heavy baggage. If Peg-Leg had lost him, he'd be hard to trace.

Back at Squilp's, Rob greeted him with a draft for 3,000 guineas, raised on a mortgage. It took days before all was settled, but at last Ram was discharged and went to lodge with the Blands at their own house in Westminster, from which they had ousted their tenants. After having given Squilp fifty guineas, besides the cost of Lucinda's discharge, he had barely 400 left. Not much with which to start anew or to trace del Lago, whom Peg-Leg had lost in the traffic.

As for Lucinda, her spoken gratitude was lavish, but his only physical reward was permission to kiss her hand. Surely, she had pointed out, no gentleman who had rescued a distressed maiden could expect more? But he was pleased that the lodgings she chose— and for which he gave her sufficient funds—were but two streets away from the Elands'. While deciding his future he could at least call upon her and—who knew?

CHAPTER 15 GEORGIA BOUND,

1732

By July, Ram had given up hope of finding his enemy and knew he must either turn farmer or offer his sword abroad. If later, the mines brought wealth, he'd again seek the Irishman, probably in Spain.

One afternoon Mrs. Bland announced that a gentleman requested the honor of calling upon him. "Name of Oglethorpe."

Oglethorpe? Where've I heard that name? he pondered.

Wben the visitor entered, he knew. This tall, handsome man with the sandy eyebrows was Prince Eugene's former aide.

"Servant, Captain," the caller bowed. "I've been seeking you this past month. We met before Belgrade, you may recall."

"Of course, sir. Fifteen years ago, and we but green youngsters."

Joseph brought in some wine he had rescued from the creditors, and soon the two old friends were toasting the past.

"Let me explain my coming," Oglethorpe began. "Learning of your sad predicament, I wondered if you feel free to undertake a venture. Have ye heard of the Parliament's Gaol Committee? Three years ago some fellow Members and I were appointed to inquire into the evils of our prisons. We found conditions desperate, especially among the debtors. So a bill was passed, freeing great numbers of these persons, whose only fault was business failure. But how to reestablish 'em? That was the rub. Must they star\'e, unable to re-enter their already overcrowded trades? Some felt that in a new land there could be a fresh life for them."

He sipped his wine. "His Majesty was applied to and was gracious enough to grant a vast territory of the Carolinas for our project. The scheme's taken time to perfect; only last month was our colony's charter delivered to the trustees. Now we seek colonists. Would you consider starting anew in a raw land?"

"I'm no tradesman," Ram protested, "but bred a soldier. What could there be there for me?"

"Much. Our colony—named, of course, after the King—is to have many purposes. It's to lie south of Carolina but north of Spanish Florida. Of late, the Dons in the West Indies have been taking our ships on flimsy pretexts. They even threaten to invade South Carolina itself. Georgia's to be a buffer between 'em and must be peopled by men ready to defend it. Few going will have military knowledge, yet all must serve in the militia. So we need skilled officers to train 'em. Now d'ye see why I've sought you out?"

Ram's pulse quickened. "I'm flattered, sir."

Oglethorpe smiled. "I've gained some slight knowledge of your story from your friends—General Wade was one. You're too young a man, too skilled a soldier, to be wasted. Mark you, here's no King's commission, but only to go as a settler who's trained to war. Already the first families are being chosen, for funds pour in from the public, and Walpole's promised grants from Parliament. It's a land peopled only by savages, yet has a richness denied these old islands. Who knows what opportunities can come?"

" Tis to be thought on." Ram tried not to seem eager. "What are the conditions of service?"

"For those going out at the trustees' expense there's fifty acres for each adult male," the other said diffidently, "But for those going at their own cost, terms are more generous; more generous still for those who can maintain themselves there." WHben Ram said he could pay his own way but wasn't sure he could maintain himself for long, he nodded, then asked about his experiences in India. "General Wade spoke of your leading Hindu dragoons in incredibly swift forays," he added: "Pray tell me of them, for Lord Baltimore informs me such swiftness is essential in American warfare."

He listened attentively to Ram's tales, then asked if he knew anything about sericulture, since so much fine silk came from India. But Ram knew nothing of its manufacture, save that he'd watched women unwind the cocoons and spin the threads. Neither did he know much of rice and indigo. All these were to be Georgia products.

His visitor rose. "May I hope you'll call at our office in the Old Palace Yard? My fellow trustees are most anxious to meet ye." At the door he paused. "We need families for our colony, else it will be like the early Virginia settlements and wither for lack of children to grow up with the land. Do you contemplate marriage, sir?"

"My late troubles scarce permit that."

"I've no spouse myself," Oglethorpe admitted. "But then, I'll be no colonist, but only one with great good will for the project. Still, if you do go, I'd suggest you take a wife, for there's none to be had there save savage maidens. Servant, Captain, and I trust I've enrolled you in a grand new adventure."

When alone. Ram's enthusiasm waned. Why endure hardship in a wilderness? But—Dalesview, and vegetation, watching others plant and reap, tend stock and dig lead. Bah, I was never cut for a farmer! And what if the Spaniards attack the colony? There'd be campaigns, with men to train and lead.

Yes, he'd go. If the mines paid later, he could always come back.

Having decided his own future, he thought of Lucinda's. He must warn her against getting into debt again. When he called upon her he was greeted with unusual kindness, for she'd found a small milliner's shop for sale.

"Madam will even teach me the making of hats." She was radi-

antly excited. "And she asks but a hundred guineas for everj'thing!'"

He winced. It would cut deep into his paltry capital, but she must have her chance. "The sum's at your service, m'dear," he said and felt well repaid by her pleasure. Damme, must I leave her to be bedded by some ape who'll never realize she's a goddess?

But must he? He drank in her beauty until he felt slightly drunk.

"Lucinda!" His throat was dr\-. "Lucinda, I've a request to make." How stupid the words sounded!

Her limpid eyes widened and color rushed up her neck into her cheeks. "Yes, Mr. Anstruther? What would ye have of me?"

"Lucinda!" Curse me, am I a tongue-tied boy? "Dear one, will ye do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Her eyes grew even wider, and he thought she hadn't understood.

"Wife?" she whispered at last. Then: "Oh, Ram! Oh, indeed, yes, yes!" Her tears came and this time he had the pleasure of kissing them away. She felt he was entitled to that privilege. After all, she'd expected him to demand the right to sleep with her in payment of that hundred guineas. But, to marry her and make her mistress of that grand estate in Yorkshire!

"Oh, please, not here!" she protested. "Someone may see us."

"Sweet one, the servants all sleep on the other side of the house." But he dropped his hand. Mustn't force her. She's almost a child in her innocence. But, curse me, will she ever cringe as if I was some amorous coxcomb seeking trulls in Drury Lane?

For a while he sat beside her on the stone bench, admiring her lovely profile. Moonbeams played so enticingly upon her hair and the swell of her bosom that he could stand no more. "Dearest," he whispered, "do shed your gown and let me see you under the moon?"

"How could you?" she gasped. "I'm no trollop to expose myself so! Permit me to go to my chamber. The journey's wearied me."

"Lucy!" He rose also, aching to hold her. "Come for a little into the summerhouse."

She turned away. "Dear husband, forgive me, but 'twould be like pagans to behave so!"

"Lucinda!" Stap my vitals, what ails the lass? "Lucinda!" But wraithlike she had vanished along the tree-bordered path. Briefly he considered pursuing her, throwing her upon some soft turf and

taking her there. But, wait, she was only sporting with him; she'd be back, then he'd carry her within and smother her with kisses. He laughed softly in anticipation. Entering the summerhouse, he sat on a rustic seat and waited. From somewhere a nightingale sang.

Wedded! Even now it seemed unbelievable. For after the first banns had been read, he'd told her of Georgia and she had been so shocked, he feared he'd lost her. But Oglethorpe had come to the rescue, telling her of the fine city to be built, of thriving Charles Town, metropolis of adjacent South Carolina, and painting so enticing a picture of the American colonies generally that she had agreed.