The Jade of Destiny

Jeffery Farnol

Description

A Jade Of Destiny is a glowing romance of the days of Queen Bess - a romance dealing to some extent with one of the many plots against the life of the great Queen. Two contrasting love stories are woven through this swift-moving, colorful narrative and, as may be expected in a Farnol novel, the drama rises chapter by chapter to the ultimate climax!

Sujets

• Romance historique
• Historical
• Regency
• Romance
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Rare Treasure Editions
• Date de parution: 09 novembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781774643761
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Jade of Destiny
by Jeffery Farnol

First published in 1931
This edition published by Rare Treasures
Victoria, BC Canada with branch offices in the Czech Republic and Germany
[e-mail]
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except in the case of excerpts by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

The Jade of Destiny









by JEFFERY FARNOL

CHAPTER I TELLETH HOW THE CAPTAIN TOOK SERVICE
The Captain gave his battered hat the true swashbuckling cock, cast his raggedcloak about him with superb, braggadocio flourish, clashed his rusty spurs andbowed. And his nose seemed arrogant, his mouth grim, his chin aggressive,—buthis eyes, these wide-set, long-lashed, wistful grey eyes gave to all the lie direct,—orso it seemed to her who, seated in great elbow-chair, surveyed him withmuch interest and no little disdain.
And as she viewed him thus beneath pucker of slim brows, he, viewing her,mentally classified her as a glooming Juno.
“You are Captain Jocelyn Dinwiddie?” said she at last, her dark eyes stillintent.
“That same, madam,” he answered, in voice to match his look, “and late ofthe English company of gentlemen volunteers in Flanders.”
“But later, sir, in the Fleet Prison, I believe.”
The Captain’s sallow cheek flushed, his moustachio quivered, but his grey eyeswere serenely steady as he answered:
“Admitted, madam, and shame it is that such right body and high-vaultingsoul should ha’ been so pent for base gold. But the most of my good comrades areheroically dead, the old company is disbanded and my steel lacks employ. Thusam I, that was of late the compeer of demigods, become poor squire of Alsatia.Here is eclipse methinks might shake the very firmament!”
“In fine, sir, you are a mere bravo open to hire.”
“Madam, your mistake, if allowable, is infinite. I am Dinwiddie! Poorgentleman and soldier o’ fortune I, yet verily of fortune none. Howbeit such asI seem to you, that will I be to your supremest content.”
“One that will fight, sir, and kill a man for sufficient pay?”
“With all my heart, gentle lady,—if I judge that man worthy death so honourable.”
“Here shall be no ‘ifs’, sir.”
“Ha, ’sdeath and zounds, madam, in any small, ordinary matter o’ blood yourladyship shall find me apt, instant and of charges reasonable. Thus can I blindyou husband that seeth too much, maim you indifferent lover that seeth too littlefor consideration paltry and fee trifling,—then, if needs must and may, I shallslay you a man cheaply as any of the cutting, swashing fraternity.”
“Enough!” said she imperiously. “Be serious.”
“As owl, lady, as moping owl.”
“Captain Dinwiddie, you were recommended to me as desperate fellow, veryresolute and hardy.”
Captain Jocelyn bowed and folded his arms.
“Lady,” said he with his most superb air, “think now of the victoriousAchilles, the valiant Hector, of Ulysses that Jove’s thunder-bolts defied,—thenlook on me! I say no more.”
“O’ my conscience,” she cried, “you say overmuch, you babble, you clack,—youchatter and prate me deaf and dumb!”
“Then, lady, here’s chance for word more and of my hardiness, rest assured,madam, for I am one holdeth life ’twixt thumb and finger-tip, let snatch who may.And so, what would ye with such fellow adamantine?”
“Deeds, man, deeds.”
“They shall achieve. But what is your precise need?”
“An impossibility.”
“Name it, prithee.”
“I seek a paladin, sir, a knight chivalrous, a man of wit, of gentle birth, boldas lion, cunning as fox, guileful as serpent, a gentleman honourable but of suchdesperate fortune shall risk his life willingly and often.”
“Madam,” said the Captain bowing, “he salutes you! ’Tis evident you beginto discern me somewhat. So then I await your ladyship’s instructions as to——”But here she clapped her white hands, laughing so youthfully that CaptainJocelyn thought no more of glooming Juno but of blithe nymphs, and joyous,white-throated dryads that mocked secure amid sun-kissed leaves. But, even ashe watched, the lovely face clouded again, and she sighed distressfully.
“Captain,” said she after a moment’s silence, “you are acquaint with Monsieurde Bergerac, the French maître d’armes ?”
“Madam, I have discovered to him a volte and pass or so new in his curriculum.”
“You make an idle brag, sir, for Monsieur de Bergerac is esteemed the greatestswordsman in London, nay—in all England.”
“But then your ladyship must remember I have been in England scarce amonth.”
“Faith, sir,” said she, faintly scornful, “yourself is vastly sure and mightilypleased with yourself!”
“Reasonably so, madam, since I have known myself achieve some notableexploits ere now and——”
“And yet,” cried she, curling red lip at him, “must lie in debtor’s prison!”
“Yet in spite of which I remain myself, madam, serene o’ soul and steadfast,heeding Fortune’s dastard ploys and buffets no whit.”
“And would you, sir, that I gather from yourself is manhood’s very perfection,nay, indeed, Dame Nature’s crowning achievement, stoop to my poor service—forpayment sufficient?”
“I await your kind ladyship’s behest.”
“Then be seated, sir!” Captain Jocelyn bowed and sinking upon the nearestchair, sat wholly at his ease, looking through the open window at the pleasantprospect of blooming flowers, shaven lawns, trim-clipped hedges and the noblepark beyond, while my lady regarded him frowningly,—his lean face that, despiteprison pallor, showed so strangely at odds with his poverty of dress. And whenshe had viewed him thus and the Captain had gazed serenely out of the windowfor some while, she sighed and spoke:
“Captain Dinwiddie, I am troubled for my only brother, Lord Aldrington,and I grieve because I love him. Sir, he is very young and headstrong and is inLondon to the peril of his health and . . . honourable name.” Here she pausedto sigh again and the Captain, his gaze still averted, ventured a word of comfort:
“Youth is Folly’s season, madam. My lord shall doubtless amend with time,so have patience and——”
“Patience?” she cried, starting up from her chair. “Oh ’tis counsel of fools!”And now, watching as she paced tempestuous to and fro, the Captain bethoughthim of a baffled Pallas Athenae. “Patience forsooth!” she repeated. “And evenas I stand here my poor Richard is sinking deeper to his destruction! A boyscarce nineteen turned! And left to my care! And I, dear heaven, so helpless!”
“Yet content you, lady, be largely comforted since at thy service is JocelynDinwiddie!”
“You!” she cried, bitterly scornful and, turning on him, was dumb. He hadrisen also and thus, as she met his level gaze, the contemptuous words upon herlip died unuttered; for here was no mere bravo, no empty, swaggering braggart,but man of action, somewhat grim, very assured and infinitely capable, yet whosesad eyes held a sympathy very comforting. So she sat down again, motioninghim to do the like.
“You know my name, I think?”
“Ione,” he answered, “Lady Fane.”
“And you are willing to serve me in this matter, Captain Jocelyn?”
“With all my heart.”
“Risking your blood . . . wounds, perchance . . . death?”
“Joyfully.”
“Then, sir, you shall bear me letter to my brother in London. You shall . . .prevail on him to come back to me . . . and his neglected tenantry,—you shallpersuade him to do this whether he will or no.”
“He shall come, madam.”
“Richard, as I say, is but a boy,” she sighed, “all too young for such vastinheritance, yet ’twas my dear father’s will . . . our mother died—too long ago,alas! So Richard’s curse is over-much money, his danger is evil companionshipand—himself. Of his wicked friends the most evil and dangerous are ColonelMalone, Sir Walter Fearn and Lord Riderwood. It is of these three in especialI would have you deliver him . . . by force an it prove needful, sir!”
“Madam, ’tis good as done!”
“Heaven’s light!” she cried, frowning on him, “such assurance is merest folly,these men are perilous all.”
“Neither am I a dove, lady.”
“These be notorious for deadly duellists all three, and you are but one.”
“Yet this same one is—Dinwiddie, madam! And so, having rid your ladyship’sbrother of these three and hither conveyed him what——”
“Ah, think you this shall prove matter so simple?”
“I make no doubt on’t, madam.”
“Sir, these windy vaunts and boasts do but shake my so small faith in you.”
“Howbeit, madam, you may count the business good as determined andsuccessfully accompt. And what then?”
Her ladyship sneered daintily:
“Why then, most infallible sir, you shall be duly fed and rewarded.” TheCaptain bowed:
“Your ladyship will admit that the labourer, even the humblest, is worthyhis hire and thus I——”
“Ha, buzz not your pragmatisms at me, sir!” she cried. “But, and perpend,sir, and you be such can indeed save my brother from these so deadly, wickedmen, you may perchance do yet greater thing and save him—from himself?”
“On two conditions, madam. First that I am given time sufficient thereto,and second—that I am nowise hampered therein.”
“Hampered, sir? As how?”
“By the pampering of doating sister.”
“Indeed,” cried she, “and do I seem such fool?”
“Lady, I said ‘sister’. These conditions agreed, I pledge myself to the venture.”
“And will doubtless need money?”
Here again the Captain flushed, while she watched him with a malicious joy.
“Alas, madam,” he sighed, “I cannot deny it.”
“Nay,” she mocked, “what need, since the labourer is worthy his hire, a bird i’the hand worth two in a bush, a stitch in time—and the like ineptitudes?”
Rising with whisper of silks, she crossed to a tall press and took thence a bagthat jingled pleasantly. “Here, sir, is your earnest-money, there shall be as muchagain when you bring me my Richard.”
Captain Jocelyn took the money, somewhat hastily, hid it upon his shabbyperson and bowed.
“Will you not count it, sir?”
“Not I, ma