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"He had a roguish son," he said; "but I am loath to admit that he came to a bad end, unless it be so to end at ease in Harby. For I am that same Hercules Halfman, at your service, my ancient ape, come back to Harby after nigh thirty years of sea-travel and land-travel, with no other purpose in my mind than to sit at my ease by mine own hearth in winter and to loll in my garden in summer.
Had he been attentive he might have noticed that Evander now wrote another word that was also a name and more than a name: Death. But he did not notice, and as he ended with his odd tribute to his enemy, Evander looked up at him with a calm face. "I shall not quit you so soon," he said, in an even voice. "I have come to stay at Harby." Halfman looked at him, puzzled. "Stay at Harby," he repeated.
The Lady Brilliana Harby. When Halfman was a lad gray Roland was Earl of Harby, a choleric scholar, seeming celibate in grain, though the title ran in direct male line. Suddenly, as Halfman now learned, gray Roland married a maid some forty years younger than he, and she gave him a child and died in the giving.
"I'll cut his heart out," Peter vociferated, stabbing a dirty hand in the direction of his enemy. "I'll make him mincemeat," Paul promised, sawing at the air. Sir Blaise, turning away in disgust, saw how in the garden Brilliana was making for the house. He frowned on the malcontents. "Hush, here comes the lady." Even as he spoke Brilliana entered from the garden, followed by Evander and Halfman.
But come, recruiting-sergeant, what of our volunteers?" "So pleases you, my lady," Halfman said, "our troop is swelling fast, and the sooner we clap them into colored coats the better." Brilliana's curls danced in denial. "Alas! friend, I have sad news for you. Of cloth for coats I can indeed command a great plenty" she paused doubtfully. "Why this is glad news, not sad news," Halfman said.
"But, indeed, it was bravely done." "It was bravely devised," Halfman asserted. "It was my lady's thought. She would never let a rascally Roundhead I crave your pardon, she would never let an enemy dream that we were in lack of aught at Harby that could help us to serve the King." "Your lady is a very brave lady," Evander said, quietly.
"Ay," assented Radlett, "well met, beef or mutton." Ingrow euphemized, "I shall be well content with bread and cheese and dreams," as he glanced admiration at Brilliana. Bardon grunted, "I would sell all my dreams for a slice of cold boar's head." Halfman addressed them in the character of Father Capulet. "We have a trifling foolish banquet towards."
"Order your pikes," Halfman commanded. "Advance your pikes. Shoulder your pikes." Then, as these orders were obeyed deftly enough by Thoroughgood and with bewildering variety by the others, he continued, "Trail your pikes," and then broke sharply off to expostulate with one of the farm-hands. "Now, Timothy Garlinge, call you that trailing of a pike.
'Oh, how can I stop it? asked he. 'Will you help me? 'Yes, I will, replied the ogress. 'Thank you, thank you! cried Halfman, kissing her on the forehead. 'My wife is dearer to me than anything else in the world, and it is not my brother's fault that I am not dead long ago. 'Very well, I will rid you of him, said the ogress, 'but only on one condition.
On the stairs he met Evander descending to say farewell to his hostess, his hat in his hand and his cloak over his arm. Halfman stopped him. "She waits you in the garden-room," he said; "I will hold your cloak and hat for you here while you make your adieus. A lover should not be cumbered." Evander thanked him, surrendered cloak and hat, and entered the garden-room.
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