To Have and To Hold | Page 6

faces, pink and white, or clear brown with the rich blood
showing through; ninety pair of eyes, laughing and alluring, or
downcast with long fringes sweeping rounded cheeks; ninety pair of
ripe red lips, - the crowd shouted itself hoarse and would not be
restrained, brushing aside like straws the staves of the marshal and his
men, and surging in upon the line of adventurous damsels. I saw young
men, panting, seize hand or arm and strive to pull toward them some
reluctant fair; others snatched kisses, or fell on their knees and began
speeches out of Euphues; others commenced an inventory of their
possessions, - acres, tobacco, servants, household plenishing. All was
hubbub, protestation, frightened cries, and hysterical laughter. The
officers ran to and fro, threatening and commanding; Master Pory
alternately cried "Shame!" and laughed his loudest; and I plucked away
a jackanapes of sixteen who had his hand upon a girl's ruff, and shook
him until the breath was well-nigh out of him. The clamor did but
increase.
"Way for the Governor!" cried the marshal. "Shame on you, my
masters! Way for his Honor and the worshipful Council!"
The three wooden steps leading down from the door of the Governor's
house suddenly blossomed into crimson and gold, as his Honor with the
attendant Councilors emerged from the hall and stood staring at the
mob below.
The Governor's honest moon face was quite pale with passion. "What a
devil is this?" he cried wrathfully. "Did you never see a woman before?

Where's the marshal? I'll imprison the last one of you for rioters!"
Upon the platform of the pillory, which stood in the centre of the
market place, suddenly appeared a man of a gigantic frame, with a
strong face deeply lined and a great shock of grizzled hair, - a strange
thing, for he was not old. I knew him to be one Master Jeremy Sparrow,
a minister brought by the Southampton a month before, and as yet
without a charge, but at that time I had not spoken with him. Without
word of warning he thundered into a psalm of thanksgiving, singing it
at the top of a powerful and yet sweet and tender voice, and with a
fervor and exaltation that caught the heart of the riotous crowd. The
two ministers in the throng beneath took up the strain; Master Pory
added a husky tenor, eloquent of much sack; presently we were all
singing. The audacious suitors, charmed into rationality, fell back, and
the broken line re-formed. The Governor and the Council descended,
and with pomp and solemnity took their places between the maids and
the two ministers who were to head the column. The psalm ended, the
drum beat a thundering roll, and the procession moved forward in the
direction of the church.
Master Pory having left me, to take his place among his brethren of the
Council, and the mob of those who had come to purchase and of the
curious idle having streamed away at the heels of the marshal and his
officers, I found myself alone in the square, save for the singer, who
now descended from the pillory and came up to me.
"Captain Ralph Percy, if I mistake not?" he said, in a voice as deep and
rich as the bass of an organ.
"The same," I answered. "And you are Master Jeremy Sparrow?"
"Yea, a silly preacher, - the poorest, meekest, and lowliest of the Lord's
servitors."
His deep voice, magnificent frame, and bold and free address so gave
the lie to the humility of his words that I had much ado to keep from
laughing. He saw, and his face, which was of a cast most martial,
flashed into a smile, like sunshine on a scarred cliff.

"You laugh in your sleeve," he said good-humoredly, "and yet I am but
what I profess to be. In spirit I am a very Job, though nature hath fit to
dress me as a Samson. I assure you, I am worse misfitted than is Master
Yardstick yonder in those Falstaffian hose. But, good sir, will you not
go to church?"
"If the church were Paul's, I might," I answered. "As it is, we could not
get within fifty feet of the door."
"Of the great door, ay, but the ministers may pass through the side door.
If you please, I will take you in with me. The pretty fools yonder march
slowly; if we turn down this lane, we will outstrip them quite."
"Agreed," I said, and we turned into a lane thick planted with tobacco,
made a detour of the Governor's house, and outflanked the procession,
arriving at the small door before it had entered the churchyard. Here we
found the sexton mounting guard.
"I am Master Sparrow, the minister that came