ANNE FEVERSHAM
BY
J. C. SNAITH
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK AND LONDON
1914
Copyright, 1914, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Published in England as “The Great Age”
Printed in the United States of America
[Pg 1]
ANNE FEVERSHAM
CHAPTER I
A DISTINGUISHED member of the Lord Chamberlain’scompany, Mr. William Shakespeare byname, had entered the shop of a tailor in thetown of Nottingham. This popular and respected actorand playwright was about thirty-five years of age. Ofmiddle height, he had the compact figure of one in theprime of a vigorous manhood. His hair was worn ratherlong, but his beard, inclining to red in color, was trimand close. His dress was plainer than is the rule withthose who follow his calling. Indeed at a first glance hehad less of the look of an actor than of a shrewd, cautiousman of affairs who has prospered in trade. Closeobservation might have amended this estimate. Therewas a vivid pallor about the face, and the somber eyes,slow-burning and deep-set, were like a smoldering fire.Even when the mobile features were in repose, whichwas seldom the case, the whole effect of the countenancewas vital and arresting.
“That is a very choice coffin-cloth you have there,Master Tidey.”
The manner of the actor and playwright was simplicityitself. There was not a suspicion of affectationin it. He passed his fingers over the rich pall that lay[Pg 2]on the tailor’s knee. Upon the hem of the cloth an armorialdevice was being stitched by the hand of a mastercraftsman.
“Yes, it is Master Shakespeare,” said the tailor gravely.“Choice enough, choice enough.”
“Who is the happy man?”
“A young gentleman who lies in the Castle yonder.He is to have his head cut off a Tuesday by order ofthe Queen.”
A look of startled interest came into the eyes of theplayer. “Is that so, Master Tidey? And young, you say,and gentle, too?”
“Aye, young enough. But two or three and twenty—byall accounts a very fair and deliver young man.”
“It seems a pity,” said the player, “a mortal pity, fora man to die by the ax in the heat of his youth. Andyet ’tis better to die by the ax than by the string. It isat least a gentleman’s death the Queen is giving him,”he added grimly.
“As you say,” the tailor agreed, “it is at least a gentleman’sdeath the Queen is giving him, and he’ll havethe robe of a gentleman in which to wrap his corpse.Happen, Master Shakespeare, that in like case it is abetter consideration than would fall to you and me.”
A light flashed in the somber eyes of the player. “Speakfor yourself Master Tidey,” he said, with a slow, deeplaugh. “Whenever I get my deliverance, by God’s graceI’ll have the robe of a gentleman to cover me. Unless”—thelight in the s