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any other of Chapman's works? My father has collected several of
his plays The Gentleman Usher and so forth. For my part I prefer
Ben Jonson, or Will Shakespeare.'
He went on to talk of them, while John listened gravely. It seemed
to him that Denham had changed the subject deliberately. From
plays they went on to discuss masques.
'I believe the Queen acted in one or two, did she not?' John asked.
'Much to the disapproval of the Puritans.' He glanced at Denham. 'I
suppose you agree with their views?'
'No, not particularly, though I do agree that the Court masques
were far too costly, and the money spent on them could have been
put to better use. Nevertheless, I greatly enjoyed those I saw. Mr
Inigo Jones used to devise some wonderful effects for them.' He
leaned forward, launching into an enthusiastic account of Mr Jones'
elaborate scenery and costumes, describing them with a wealth of
detail that captured John's interest and imagination.
When he had finished, John regarded him curiously. 'You fre-
quented the Court, you enjoyed masques and dancing and music,
and all the other pleasures Puritans frown upon, and yet you chose
to fight for the King's enemies. How can you justify that?'
'I suppose,' Denham returned slowly, 'it is all a question of
values.' He gave John a measuring look. Would he understand, as
Cathie had, the reasons for his decision? Choosing his words care-
fully, he began to explain.
Some time later Cathie came wearily downstairs to find them.
Hearing the low hum of voices, she opened the door of the winter-
parlour and stood on the threshold for a moment, staring at them in
bewilderment. Never in her wildest dreams had she pictured John
in animated conversation with the Captain; and yet, here he was,
expounding his views to him upon of all things husbandry! And
Denham was listening intently, nodding his head in agreement,
interposing a remark here and there.
They were so engrossed that neither of them noticed her. Slightly
118 CROMWELL'S CAPTAIN
aggrieved, she went towards them, and broke in abruptly: 'Mary has
given birth to a boy. She says she will name him James.'
They stared at her in startled surprise, then Denham exclaimed:
'A boy! That's wonderful!' Smiling broadly, he rose to his feet.
'How is Lady Gifford?'
'Very tired.' Her tone was colourless. She turned to John. 'Mary
wishes to see you. You had better go up at once. She will want to
sleep.'
'Yes, I will.' He plunged towards the door, spurs jingling, and
went out.
Denham's gaze was on Cathie's wan face. 'You are tired, too,' he
said gently.
She nodded. Her hair was tied back at the nape of her neck, her
eyes smudged with weariness, her mouth drooping. She looked at
him wordlessly, and all at once burst into tears.
In between sobs she tried to explain. So much had
happened Randolph and his companions the Round-
heads Mary and the baby....
'He's so small so frail. I thought he was going to die. He was
scarcely breathing. Betsy had to slap him.'
By this time he had drawn her down beside him on the settle, his
arms strong about her. Cathie turned her face into his shoulder and
wept unreservedly, sobbing out all her fears in a burst of reaction;,
only vaguely aware of his murmured words of solace, his tender;
endearments.
After a while she groped for her kerchief, mopped her streaming
eyes and blew her nose. 'I'm sorry,' she said huskily. 'What must
you think of me!'
One last tear coursed slowly down her cheek. Bending his head,
Denham kissed it away, the salt taste of it lingering on his lips.
Then, rising to his feet, he went to the table and poured wine for
them both, returning with the two glasses, one of which he handed
to her.
She drank thirstily, and made no demur when he refilled her
glass. He was thankful to see a tinge of colour in her cheeks. He
stirred the fire into life, adding another log to it.
'That's better!' He seated himself close beside her once more.
She stirred. 'I mustn't stay. Mary will be wondering where I am.'
'She will be asleep by now.'
'Betsy won't be!'
'A plague on Betsy!' He slipped an arm round her and drew her
CROMWELL'S CAPTAIN 119
against him, half expecting her to resist, but she did not. Instead she
let her head fall on his shoulder, and they sat there, relaxed and
content, gazing into the fire.
For a while they remained silent. Then she said in a small, dreamy
voice, 'I shouldn't be sitting here with you like this, should I?'
'Probably not,' he agreed, adding: 'Would you rather go to bed?'
Her head moved slightly. 'No. It's very pleasant here.' She
finished her wine, and he took the glass from her and put it down on
the floor, beside his own.
'I wonder what time it is,' she murmured.
'Approaching dawn, I shouldn't wonder.'
'What were you and John talking about?'
'Various things court masques and balls, Puritans and pleasures.'
'Did he tell you where he went tonight?'
'Yes.' He recounted John's tale, and she sighed.
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