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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6437-0.txt b/6437-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d45dc8 --- /dev/null +++ b/6437-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8464 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 6437 *** + + + + +THE SPLENDID SPUR + + +Being Memoirs of The Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, A Servant of His +Late Majesty King Charles I., In The Years 1642-3: Written by Himself: +Edited in Modern English by Q (Arthur T. Quiller Couch) + +By Arthur T. Quiller Couch + +1897 + +[Illustration: “I loved thee so, boy Jack.”] + + +TO + +EDWARD GWYNNE EARDLEY-WILMOT. + +_MY DEAR EDDIE,_ + +Whatever view a story-teller may take of his business, ’tis happy when +he can think, “This book of mine will please such and such a friend,” + and may set that friend’s name after the title page. For even if to +please (as some are beginning to hold) should be no part of his aim, +at least ’twill always be a reward: and (in unworthier moods) next to a +Writer I would choose to be a Lamplighter, as the only other that gets +so cordial a “God bless him!” in the long winter evenings. + +To win such a welcome at such a time from a new friend or two would be +the happiest fortune for my tale. But to you I could wish it to speak +particularly, seeing that under the coat of JACK MARVEL _beats the +heart of your friend_ + +Q. + +_Torquay, August 22d_, 1889. + + + + +INTRODUCTORY NOTE. + + +“Q.” + +A year or two ago it was observed that three writers were using the +curiously popular signature “Q.” This was hardly less confusing than +that one writer should use three signatures (Grant Allen, Arbuthnot +Wilson, and Anon), but as none of the three was willing to try another +letter, they had to leave it to the public (whose decision in such +matters is final) to say who is Q to it. The public said, Let him wear +this proud letter who can win it, and for the present at least it is +in the possession of the author of “The Splendid Spur” and “The Blue +Pavilions.” It would seem, too, as if it were his “to keep,” for “Q” is +like the competition cups that are only yours for a season, unless you +manage to carry them three times in succession. Mr. Quiller-Couch has +been champion Q since 1890. + +The interesting question is not so much, What has he done to be the only +prominent Q of these years, as Is he to be the Q of all time? If so, he +will do better work than he has yet done, though several of his latest +sketches—and one in particular—are of very uncommon merit. Mr. +Quiller-Couch is so unlike Mr. Kipling that one immediately wants to +compare them. They are both young, and they have both shown such promise +that it will be almost sad if neither can write a book to live—as, +of course, neither has done as yet. Mr. Kipling is the more audacious, +which is probably a matter of training. He was brought up in India, +where one’s beard grows much quicker than at Oxford, and where you not +only become a man (and a cynic) in a hurry, but see and hear strange +things (and print them) such as the youth of Oxford miss, or, becoming +acquainted with, would not dare insert in the local magazine of the +moment. So Mr. Kipling’s first work betokened a knowledge of the world +that is by no means to be found in “Dead Man’s Rock,” the first book +published by Mr. Quiller-Couch. On the other hand, it cannot truly be +said that Mr. Kipling’s latest work is stronger than his first, while +the other writer’s growth is the most remarkable thing about him. It +is precisely the same Mr. Kipling who is now in the magazines that was +writing some years ago in India (and a rare good Mr. Kipling too), but +the Mr. Quiller-Couch of to-day is the Quiller-Couch of “Dead Man’s +Rock” grown out of recognition. To compare their styles is really to +compare the men. Mr. Kipling’s is the more startling, the stronger (as +yet), and the more mannered. Mark Twain, it appears, said he reads Mr. +Kipling for his style, which is really the same thing as saying you read +him for his books, though the American seems only to have meant that +he eats the beef because he likes the salt. It is a journalistic style, +aiming too constantly at sharp effects, always succeeding in getting +them. Sometimes this is contrived at the expense of grammar, as when (a +common trick with the author) he ends a story with such a paragraph as +“Which is manifestly unfair.” Mr. Quiller-Couch has never sinned in this +way, but his first style was somewhat turgid, even melodramatic, and, +compared with Mr. Kipling’s, lacked distinction. From the beginning Mr. +Kipling had the genius for using the right word twice in three +times (Mr. Stevenson only misses it about once in twelve), while +Mr. Quiller-Couch not only used the wrong word, but weighted it with +adjectives. The charge, however, cannot be brought against him to-day, +for having begun by writing like a Mr. Haggard not quite sure of himself +(if one can imagine such a Mr. Haggard), and changing to an obvious +imitation of Mr. Stevenson, he seems now to have made a style for +himself. It is clear and careful, but not as yet strong winged. Its +distinctive feature is that it is curiously musical. + +“Dead Man’s Rock” is a capital sensational story to be read and at once +forgotten. It was followed by “The Astonishing History of Troy Town,” + which was humorous, and proved that the author owed a debt to Dickens. +But it was not sufficiently humorous to be remarkable for its humor, and +it will go hand in hand with “Dead Man’s Rock” to oblivion. Until “The +Splendid Spur” appeared Mr. Quiller-Couch had done little to suggest +that an artist had joined the ranks of the story-tellers. It is not in +anyway a great work, but it was among the best dozen novels of its year, +and as the production of a new writer it was one of the most notable. +About the same time was published another historical romance of the +second class (for to nothing short of Sir Walter shall we give a +first-class in this department), “Micah Clarke,” by Mr. Conan Doyle. It +was as inevitable that the two books should be compared as that he who +enjoyed the one should enjoy the other. In one respect “Micah Clarke” is +the better story. It contains one character, a soldier of fortune, who +is more memorable than any single figure in “The Splendid Spur.” This, +however, is effected at a cost, for this man is the book. It contains, +indeed, two young fellows, one of them a John Ridd, but no Diana Vernon +would blow a kiss to either. Both stories are weak in pathos, despite +Joan, but there are a score of humorous situations in “The Splendid +Spur” that one could not forget if he would—which he would not—as, for +instance, where hero and heroine are hidden in barrels in a ship, and +hero cries through his bunghole, “Wilt marry me, sweetheart?” to which +heroine replies, “Must get out of this cask first.” Better still is the +scene in which Captain Billy expatiates, with a mop and a bucket, on the +merits of his crew. But the passages are for reading, not for hearing +about. Of the characters, this same Captain Billy is not the worst, but +perhaps the best is Joan, Mr. Quiller-Couch’s first successful picture +of a girl. A capital eccentric figure is killed (some good things +are squandered in this book) just when we are beginning to find him a +genuine novelty. Anything that is ready to leap into danger seems to +be thought good enough for the hero of a fighting romance, so that Jack +Marvel will pass (though Delia, as is right and proper, is worth two of +him, despite her coming-on disposition). The villain is a failure, and +the plot poor. Nevertheless there are some ingenious complications in +it. Jack’s escape by means of the hangman’s rope, which was to send him +out of the world in a few hours, is a fine rollicking bit of sensation. +Where Mr. Quiller-Couch and Mr. Conan Doyle both fail as compared with +the great master of romance is in the introduction of historical figures +and episodes. Scott would have been a great man if he had written no +novel but “The Abbott” (one of his second best), and no part of +“The Abbott” but the scene in which Mary signs away her crown. Mr. +Quiller-Couch almost entirely avoids such attempts, and even Mr. Conan +Doyle only dips into them timidly. There is, one has been told, a theory +that the romancist has no right to picture history in this way. But he +makes his rights when he does it as Scott did it. + +Since “The Splendid Spur,” Mr. Quiller-Couch has published nothing in +book form which can be considered an advance on his best novel, but +there have appeared by him a number of short Cornish sketches, which are +perhaps best considered as experiments. They are perilously slight, and +where they are successful one remembers them as sweet dreams or like a +bar of music. All aim at this effect, so that many should not be taken +at a time, and some (as was to be expected with such delicate work) +miss their mark. It might be said that in several of these melodies +Mr. Quiller-Couch has been writing the same thing again and again, +determined to succeed absolutely, if not this time then the next, and +if not the next time then the time after. In one case he has succeeded +absolutely. “The Small People,” is a prose “Song of the Shirt.” To my +mind this is a rare piece of work, and the biggest thing for its size +that has been done in English fiction for some years. + +These sketches have been called experiments. They show (as his books +scarcely show) that Mr. Quiller-Couch can feel. They suggest that he may +be able to do for Cornwall what Mr. Hardy has done for Dorset—though +the methods of the two writers are as unlike as their counties. But that +can only be if in filling his notebook with these little comedies and +tragedies Mr. Quiller-Couch is preparing for more sustained efforts. + + “Our hope and heart is with thee + We will stand and mark.” + +J. M. BARRIE. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + +I. THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE “CROWN” + +II. THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN + +III. I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL; AND BARELY ESCAPE + +IV. I TAKE THE ROAD + +V. MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE CUPS” + +VI. THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD + +VII. I FIND A COMRADE + +VIII. I LOSE THE KING’S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL + +IX I BREAK OUT OF PRISON + +X. CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE + +XI. I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE; AND AM WELL TREATED THERE + +XII. HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK +DOWN + +XIII. I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL + +XIV. I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS + +XV. I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS + +XVI. THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH + +XVII. I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT + +XVIII. JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE + +XIX THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE + +XX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE + + + + +THE SPLENDID SPUR. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE “CROWN.” + + +He that has jilted the Muse, forsaking her gentle pipe to follow the +drum and trumpet, shall fruitlessly besiege her again when the time +comes to sit at home and write down his adventures. ’Tis her revenge, +as I am extremely sensible: and methinks she is the harder to me, upon +reflection how near I came to being her lifelong servant, as you are to +hear. + +’Twas on November 29th, Ao. 1642—a clear, frosty day—that the King, +with the Prince of Wales (newly recovered of the measles), the Princes +Rupert and Maurice, and a great company of lords and gentlemen, horse +and foot, came marching back to us from Reading. I was a scholar of +Trinity College in Oxford at that time, and may begin my history at +three o’clock on the same afternoon, when going (as my custom was) to +Mr. Rob. Drury for my fencing lesson, I found his lodgings empty. + +They stood at the corner of Ship Street, as you turn into the Corn +Market—a low wainscoted chamber, ill-lighted but commodious. “He is off +to see the show,” thought I as I looked about me; and finding an easy +cushion in the window, sat down to await him. Where presently, being +tired out (for I had been carrying a halberd all day with the scholars’ +troop in Magdalen College Grove), and in despite of the open lattice, I +fell sound asleep. + +It must have been an hour after that I awoke with a chill (as was +natural), and was stretching out a hand to pull the window close, but +suddenly sat down again and fell to watching instead. + +The window look’d down, at the height of ten feet or so, upon a +bowling-green at the back of the “Crown” Tavern (kept by John Davenant, +in the Corn Market), and across it to a rambling wing of the same inn; +the fourth side—that to my left—being but an old wall, with a +broad sycamore growing against it. ’Twas already twilight; and in the +dark’ning house, over the green, was now one casement brightly lit, the +curtains undrawn, and within a company of noisy drinkers round a table. +They were gaming, as was easily told by their clicking of the dice and +frequent oaths: and anon the bellow of some tipsy chorus would come +across. ’Twas one of these catches, I dare say, that woke me: only just +now my eyes were bent, not toward the singers, but on the still lawn +between us. + +The sycamore, I have hinted, was a broad tree, and must, in summer, have +borne a goodly load of leaves: but now, in November, these were strewn +thick over the green, and nothing left but stiff, naked boughs. Beneath +it lay a crack’d bowl or two on the rank turf, and against the trunk a +garden bench rested, I suppose for the convenience of the players. On +this a man was now seated. + +He was reading in a little book; and this first jogged my curiosity: for +’twas unnatural a man should read print at this dim hour, or, if he had +a mind to try, should choose a cold bowling-green for his purpose. Yet +he seemed to study his volume very attentively, but with a sharp look, +now and then, toward the lighted window, as if the revellers disturb’d +him. His back was partly turn’d to me; and what with this and the +growing dusk, I could but make a guess at his face: but a plenty of +silver hair fell over his fur collar, and his shoulders were bent a +great deal. I judged him between fifty and sixty. For the rest, he wore +a dark, simple suit, very straitly cut, with an ample furr’d cloak, and +a hat rather tall, after the fashion of the last reign. + +Now, why the man’s behavior so engaged me, I don’t know: but at the +end of half an hour I was still watching him. By this, ’twas near +dark, bitter cold, and his pretence to read mere fondness: yet he +persevered—though with longer glances at the casement above, where the +din at times was fit to wake the dead. + +And now one of the dicers upsets his chair with a curse, and gets on his +feet. Looking up, I saw his features for a moment—a slight, pretty boy, +scarce above eighteen, with fair curls and flush’d cheeks like a girl’s. +It made me admire to see him in this ring of purple, villainous faces. +’Twas evident he was a young gentleman of quality, as well by his +bearing as his handsome cloak of amber satin barr’d with black. “I think +the devil’s in these dice!” I heard him crying, and a pretty hubbub all +about him: but presently the drawer enters with more wine, and he sits +down quietly to a fresh game. + +As soon as ’twas started, one of the crew, that had been playing but was +now dropp’d out, lounges up from his seat, and coming to the casement +pushes it open for fresh air. He was one that till now had sat in full +view—a tall bully, with a gross pimpled nose; and led the catches in +a bull’s voice. The rest of the players paid no heed to his rising; and +very soon his shoulders hid them, as he lean’d out, drawing in the cold +breath. + +During the late racket I had forgot for a while my friend under the +sycamore, but now, looking that way, to my astonishment I saw him +risen from his bench and stealing across to the house opposite. I say +“stealing,” for he kept all the way to the darker shadow of the wall, +and besides had a curious trailing motion with his left foot as though +the ankle of it had been wrung or badly hurt. + +As soon as he was come beneath the window he stopped and called softly— + +“Hist!” + +The bully gave a start and look’d down. I could tell by this motion he +did not look to find anyone in the bowling-green at that hour. Indeed he +had been watching the shaft of light thrown past him by the room behind, +and now moved so as to let it fall on the man that addressed him. + +The other stands close under the window, as if to avoid this, and calls +again— + +“Hist!” says he, and beckons with a finger. + +The man at the window still held his tongue (I suppose because those +in the room would hear him if he spoke), and so for a while the two men +studied one another in silence, as if considering their next moves. + +After a bit, however, the bully lifted a hand, and turning back into the +lighted room, walks up to one of the players, speaks a word or two and +disappears. + +I sat up on the window seat, where till now I had been crouching for +fear the shaft of light should betray me, and presently (as I was +expecting) heard the latch of the back perch gently lifted, and spied +the heavy form of the bully coming softly over the grass. + +Now, I would not have my readers prejudiced, and so may tell them this +was the first time in my life I had played the eavesdropper. That I +did so now I can never be glad enough, but ’tis true, nevertheless, my +conscience pricked me; and I was even making a motion to withdraw when +that occurred which would have fixed any man’s attention, whether he +wish’d it or no. + +The bully must have closed the door behind him but carelessly, for +hardly could he take a dozen steps when it opened again with a scuffle, +and the large house dog belonging to the “Crown” flew at his heels with +a vicious snarl and snap of the teeth. + +’Twas enough to scare the coolest. But the fellow turn’d as if shot, and +before he could snap again, had gripped him fairly by the throat. The +struggle that follow’d I could barely see, but I heard the horrible +sounds of it—the hard, short breathing of the man, the hoarse +rage working in the dog’s throat—and it turned me sick. The dog—a +mastiff—was fighting now to pull loose, and the pair swayed this way +and that in the dusk, panting and murderous. + +I was almost shouting aloud—feeling as though ’twere my own throat thus +gripp’d—when the end came. The man had his legs planted well apart. + +I saw his shoulders heave up and bend as he tightened the pressure of +his fingers; then came a moment’s dead silence, then a hideous gurgle, +and the mastiff dropped back, his hind legs trailing limp. + +The bully held him so for a full minute, peering close to make sure he +was dead, and then without loosening his hold, dragged him across the +grass under my window. By the sycamore he halted, but only to shift his +hands a little; and so, swaying on his hips, sent the carcase with a +heave over the wall. I heard it drop with a thud on the far side. + +During this fierce wrestle—which must have lasted about two +minutes—the clatter and shouting of the company above had gone on +without a break; and all this while the man with the white hair had +rested quietly on one side, watching. But now he steps up to where the +bully stood mopping his face (for all the coolness of the evening), and, +with a finger between the leaves of his book, bows very politely. + +“You handled that dog, sir, choicely well,” says he, in a thin voice +that seemed to have a chuckle hidden in it somewhere. + +The other ceased mopping to get a good look at him. + +“But sure,” he went on, “’twas hard on the poor cur, that had never +heard of Captain Lucius Higgs—” + +I thought the bully would have had him by the windpipe and pitched him +after the mastiff, so fiercely he turn’d at the sound of this name. But +the old gentleman skipped back quite nimbly and held up a finger. + +“I’m a man of peace. If another title suits you better—” + +“Where the devil got you that name?” growled the bully, and had half a +mind to come on again, but the other put in briskly— + +“I’m on a plain errand of business. No need, as you hint, to mention +names; and therefore let me present myself as Mr. Z. The residue of the +alphabet is at your service to pick and choose from.” + +“My name is Luke Settle,” said the big man hoarsely (but whether this +was his natural voice or no I could not tell). + +“Let us say ‘Mr. X.’ I prefer it.” + +The old gentleman, as he said this, popped his head on one side, laid +the forefinger of his right hand across the book, and seem’d to be +considering. + +“Why did you throttle that dog a minute ago?” he asked sharply. + +“Why, to save my skin,” answers the fellow, a bit puzzled. + +“Would you have done it for fifty pounds?” + +“Aye, or half that.” + +“And how if it had been a _puppy_, Mr. X?” + +Now all this from my hiding I had heard very clearly, for they stood +right under me in the dusk. But as the old gentleman paused to let +his question sink in, and the bully to catch the drift of it before +answering, one of the dicers above struck up to sing a catch—— + + “With a hey, trolly-lolly! a leg to the Devil, + And answer him civil, and off with your cap: + Sing—Hey, trolly-lolly! Good-morrow, Sir Evil, + We’ve finished the tap, + And, saving your worship, we care not a rap!” + +While this din continued, the stranger held up one forefinger again, as +if beseeching silence, the other remaining still between the pages of +his book. + +“Pretty boys!” he said, as the noise died away; “pretty boys! ’Tis +easily seen they have a bird to pluck.” + +“He’s none of my plucking.” + +“And if he were, why not? Sure you’ve picked a feather or two before now +in the Low Countries—hey?” + +“I’ll tell you what,” interrupts the big man, “next time you crack one +of your death’s-head jokes, over the wall you go after the dog. What’s +to prevent it?” + +“Why, this,” answers the old fellow, cheerfully. “There’s money to be +made by doing no such thing. And I don’t carry it all about with me. So, +as ’tis late, we’d best talk business at once.” + +They moved away toward the seat under the sycamore, and now their words +reached me no longer—only the low murmur of their voices or (to be +correct) of the elder man’s: for the other only spoke now and then, to +put a question, as it seemed. Presently I heard an oath rapped out +and saw the bully start up. “Hush, man!” cried the other, and “hark-ye +now—”; so he sat down again. Their very forms were lost within the +shadow. I, myself, was cold enough by this time and had a cramp in +one leg—but lay still, nevertheless. And after awhile they stood up +together, and came pacing across the bowling-green, side by side, the +older man trailing his foot painfully to keep step. You may be sure I +strain’d my ears. + +“—besides the pay,” the stranger was saying, “there’s all you can win +of this young fool, Anthony, and all you find on the pair, which I’ll +wager—” + +They passed out of hearing, but turned soon, and came back again. The +big man was speaking this time. + +“I’ll be shot if I know what game _you’re_ playing in this.” + +The elder chuckled softly. “I’ll be shot if I mean you to,” said he. + +And this was the last I heard. For now there came a clattering at the +door behind me, and Mr. Robert Drury reeled in, hiccuping a maudlin +ballad about “_Tib and young Colin, one fine day, beneath the haycock +shade-a_,” &c., &c., and cursing to find his fire gone out, and all in +darkness. Liquor was ever his master, and to-day the King’s health had +been a fair excuse. He did not spy me, but the roar of his ballad +had startled the two men outside, and so, while he was stumbling over +chairs, and groping for a tinder-box, I slipp’d out in the darkness, and +downstairs into the street. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN, + + +Guess, any of you, if these events disturbed my rest that night. ’Twas +four o’clock before I dropp’d asleep in my bed in Trinity, and my last +thoughts were still busy with the words I had heard. Nor, on the morrow, +did it fair any better with me: so that, at rhetoric lecture, our +president—Dr. Ralph Kettle—took me by the ears before the whole +class. He was the fiercer upon me as being older than the gross of my +fellow-scholars, and (as he thought) the more restless under discipline. +“A tutor’d adolescence,” he would say, “is a fair grace before meat,” + and had his hourglass enlarged to point the moral for us. But even +a rhetoric lecture must have an end, and so, tossing my gown to the +porter, I set off at last for Magdalen Bridge, where the new barricado +was building, along the Physic Garden, in front of East Gate. + +The day was dull and low’ring, though my wits were too busy to heed +the sky; but scarcely was I past the small gate in the city wall when a +brisk shower of hail and sleet drove me to shelter in the Pig Market +( or _Proscholium_) before the Divinity School. ’Tis an ample vaulted +passage, as I dare say you know; and here I found a great company of +people already driven by the same cause. + +To describe them fully ’twould be necessary to paint the whole state of +our city in those distracted times, which I have neither wit nor time +for. But here, to-day, along with many doctors and scholars, were +walking courtiers, troopers, mountebanks, cut-purses, astrologers, +rogues and gamesters; together with many of the first ladies and +gentlemen of England, as the Prince Maurice, the lords Andover, Digby +and Colepepper, my lady Thynne, Mistress Fanshawe, Mr. Secretary +Nicholas, the famous Dr. Harvey, arm-in-arm with my lord Falkland (whose +boots were splash’d with mud, he having ridden over from his house +at Great Tew), and many such, all mix’d in this incredible tag-rag. +Mistress Fanshawe, as I remember, was playing on a lute, which she +carried always slung about her shoulders: and close beside her, a fellow +impudently puffing his specific against the _morbus campestris_, which +already had begun to invade us. + +“_Who’ll buy?_” he was bawling. “_’Tis from the receipt of a famous +Italian, and never yet failed man, woman, nor child, unless the heart +were clean drown’d in the disease: the lest part of it good muscadine, +and has virtue against the plague, smallpox, or surfeits!_” + +I was standing before this jackanapes, when I heard a stir in the crowd +behind me, and another calling, “_Who’ll buy? Who’ll buy?_” + +Turning, I saw a young man, very gaily dressed, moving quickly about at +the far end of the Pig Market, and behind him an old lackey, bent double +with the weight of two great baskets that he carried. The baskets were +piled with books, clothes, and gewgaws of all kinds; and ’twas the young +gentleman that hawked his wares himself. “_What d’ye lack?_” he kept +shouting, and would stop to unfold his merchandise, holding up now a +book, and now a silk doublet, and running over their merits like any +huckster—but with the merriest conceit in the world. + +And yet ’twas not this that sent my heart flying into my mouth at the +sight of him. For by his curls and womanish face, no less than the amber +cloak with the black bars, I knew him at once for the same I had seen +yesterday among the dicers. + +As I stood there, drawn this way and that by many reflections, he worked +his way through the press, selling here and there a trifle from his +baskets, and at length came to a halt in front of me. + +“Ha!” he cried, pulling off his plumed hat, and bowing low, “a scholar, +I perceive. Let me serve you, sir. Here is the ‘History of Saint +George,’” and he picked out a thin brown quarto and held it up; “written +by Master Peter Heylin; a ripe book they tell me (though, to be sure, I +never read beyond the title), and the price a poor two shillings.” + +[Illustration: “A scholar, I perceive. Let me serve you sir?”—Page 30.] + +Now, all this while I was considering what to do. So, as I put my hand +in my pocket, and drew out the shillings, I said very slowly, looking +him in the eyes (but softly, so that the lackey might not hear)—— + +“So thus you feed your expenses at the dice: and my shilling, no doubt, +is for Luke Settle, as well as the rest.” + +For the moment, under my look, he went white to the lips; then +clapped his hand to his sword, withdrew it, and answered me, red as a +turkey-cock—— + +“Shalt be a parson, yet, Master Scholar: but art in a damn’d hurry, it +seems.” + +Now, I had ever a quick temper, and as he turned on his heel, was like +to have replied and raised a brawl. My own meddling tongue had brought +the rebuff upon me: but yet my heart was hot as he walked away. + +I was standing there and looking after him, turning over in my hand the +“Life of Saint George,” when my fingers were aware of a slip of paper +between the pages. Pulling it out, I saw ’twas scribbled over with +writing and figures, as follows:— + +“Mr. Anthony Killigrew, his acct for Oct. 25th, MDCXLII.—_For +herrings_, 2d.; _for coffie_, 4d.; _for scowring my coat_, 6d.; _at +bowls_, 5s. 10d.; _for bleading me_, 1s. 0d.; _for ye King’s speech_, +3d.; _for spic’d wine (with Marjory)_, 2s. 4d.; _for seeing ye +Rhinoceros_, 4d.; _at ye Ranter-go-round_, 6 ¾d.; _for a pair of +silver buttons_, 2s. 6d.; _for apples_, 2 ½d.; _for ale_, 6d.; _at ye +dice_, L17 5s.; _for spic’d wine (again)_, 4s. 6d.” + +And so on. + +As I glanced my eye down this paper, my anger oozed away, and a great +feeling of pity came over me, not only at the name of Anthony—the name +I had heard spoken in the bowling-green last night—but also to see +that monstrous item of L17 odd spent on the dice. ’Twas such a boy, too, +after all, that I was angry with, that had spent fourpence to see the +rhinoceros at a fair, and rode on the ranter-go-round (with “Marjory,” + no doubt, as ’twas for her, no doubt, the silver buttons were bought). +So that, with quick forgiveness, I hurried after him, and laid a hand on +his shoulder. + +He stood by the entrance, counting up his money, and drew himself up +very stiff. + +“I think, sir,” said I, “this paper is yours.” + +“I thank you,” he answered, taking it, and eyeing me. “Is there +anything, besides, you wished to say?” + +“A great deal, maybe, if your name be Anthony.” + +“Master Anthony Killigrew is my name, sir; now serving under Lord +Bernard Stewart in His Majesty’s troop of guards.” + +“And mine is Jack Marvel,” said I. + +“Of the Yorkshire Marvels?” + +“Why, yes; though but a shoot of that good stock, transplanted to +Cumberland, and there sadly withered.” + +“’Tis no matter, sir,” said he politely; “I shall be proud to cross +swords with you.” + +“Why, bless your heart!” I cried out, full of laughter at this childish +punctilio; “d’ye think I came to fight you?” + +“If not, sir”—and he grew colder than ever—“you are going a cursed +roundabout way to avoid it.” + +Upon this, finding no other way out of it, I began my tale at once: but +hardly had come to the meeting of the two men on the bowling-green, when +he interrupts me politely—— + +“I think, Master Marvel, as yours is like to be a story of some moment, +I will send this fellow back to my lodgings. He’s a long-ear’d dog that +I am saving from the gallows for so long as my conscience allows me. The +shower is done, I see; so if you know of a retir’d spot, we will talk +there more at our leisure.” + +He dismiss’d his lackey, and stroll’d off with me to the Trinity Grove, +where, walking up and down, I told him all I had heard and seen the +night before. + +“And now,” said I, “can you tell me if you have any such enemy as this +white-hair’d man, with the limping gait?” + +He had come to a halt, sucking in his lips and seeming to reflect— + +“I know one man,” he began: “but no—’tis impossible.” + +As I stood, waiting to hear more, he clapp’d his hand in mine, very +quick and friendly: “Jack,” he cried;—“I’ll call thee Jack—’twas an +honest good turn thou hadst in thy heart to do me, and I a surly rogue +to think of fighting—I that could make mincemeat of thee.” + +“I can fence a bit,” answer’d I. + +“Now, say no more, Jack: I love thee.” + +He look’d in my face, still holding my hand and smiling. Indeed, there +was something of the foreigner in his brisk graceful ways—yet not +unpleasing. I was going to say I had never seen the like—ah, me! that +both have seen and know the twin image so well. + +“I think,” said I, “you had better be considering what to do.” + +He laugh’d outright this time; and resting with his legs cross’d, +against the trunk of an elm, twirl’d an end of his long lovelocks, and +looked at me comically. Said he: “Tell me, Jack, is there aught in me +that offends thee?” + +“Why, no,” I answered. “I think you’re a very proper young man—such as +I should loathe to see spoil’d by Master Settle’s knife.” + +“Art not quick at friendship, Jack, but better at advising; only in this +case fortune has prevented thy good offices. Hark ye,” he lean’d forward +and glanc’d to right and left, “if these twain intend my hurt—as indeed +’twould seem—they lose their labor: for this very night I ride from +Oxford.” + +“And why is that?” + +“I’ll tell thee, Jack, tho’ I deserve to be shot. I am bound with a +letter from His Majesty to the Army of the West, where I have friends, +for my father’s sake—Sir Deakin Killigrew of Gleys, in Cornwall. ’Tis a +sweet country, they say, tho’ I have never seen it.” + +“Not seen thy father’s country?” + +“Why no—for he married a Frenchwoman, Jack, God rest her dear +soul!”—he lifted his hat—“and settled in that country, near Morlaix, +in Brittany, among my mother’s kin; my grandfather refusing to see or +speak with him, for wedding a poor woman without his consent. And in +France was I born and bred, and came to England two years agone; and +this last July the old curmudgeon died. So that my father, who was an +only son, is even now in England returning to his estates: and with him +my only sister Delia. I shall meet them on the way. To think of it!” + (and I declare the tears sprang to his eyes): “Delia will be a woman +grown, and ah! to see dear Cornwall together!” + +Now I myself was only a child, and had been made an orphan when but nine +years old, by the smallpox that visited our home in Wastdale Village, +and carried off my father, the Vicar, and my dear mother. Yet his simple +words spoke to my heart and woke so tender a yearning for the small +stone cottage, and the bridge, and the grey fells of Yewbarrow above it, +that a mist rose in my eyes too, and I turn’d away to hide it. + +“’Tis a ticklish business,” said I after a minute, “to carry the King’s +letter. Not one in four of his messengers comes through, they say. But +since it keeps you from the dice——” + +“That’s true. To-night I make an end.” + +“To-night!” + +“Why, yes. To-night I go for my revenge, and ride straight from the inn +door.” + +“Then I go with you to the ‘Crown,’” I cried, very positive. + +He dropp’d playing with his curl, and look’d me in the face, his mouth +twitching with a queer smile. + +“And so thou shalt Jack: but why?” + +“I’ll give no reason,” said I, and knew I was blushing. + +“Then be at the corner of All Hallows’ Church in Turl Street at seven +to-night. I lodge over Master Simon’s, the glover, and must be about +my affairs. Jack,”—he came near and took my hand—“am sure thou lovest +me.” + +He nodded, with another cordial smile, and went his way up the grove, +his amber cloak flaunting like a belated butterfly under the leaf less +trees; and so pass’d out of my sight. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL: AND BARELY ESCAPE. + + +It wanted, maybe, a quarter to seven, that evening, when, passing out +at the College Gate on my way to All Hallows’ Church, I saw under the +lantern there a man loitering and talking with the porter. ’Twas Master +Anthony’s lackey; and as I came up, he held out a note for me. + +Deare Jack + +Wee goe to the “Crowne” at VI. o’clock, I having mett with Captain +Settle, who is on dewty with the horse tonite, and must to Abendonn by +IX. I looke for you— + +Your unfayned loving + +A. K. + +The bearer has left my servise, and his helth conserus me nott. Soe kik +him if he tarrie. + +This last advice I had no time to carry out with any thoroughness: but +being put in a great dread by this change of hour, pelted off toward the +Corn Market as fast as legs could take me, which was the undoing of a +little round citizen into whom I ran full tilt at the corner of Balliol +College: who, before I could see his face in the darkness, was tipp’d on +his back in the gutter and using the most dismal expressions. So I left +him, considering that my excuses would be unsatisfying to his present +demands, and to his cooler judgment a superfluity. + +The windows of the “Crown” were cheerfully lit behind their red blinds. +A few straddling grooms and troopers talked and spat in the brightness +of the entrance, and outside in the street was a servant leading up and +down a beautiful sorrel mare, ready saddled, that was mark’d on the near +hind leg with a high white stocking. In the passage, I met the host +of the “Crown,” Master John Davenant, and sure (I thought) in what +odd corners will the Muse pick up her favorites! For this slow, +loose-cheek’d vintner was no less than father to Will Davenant, our +Laureate, and had belike read no other verse in his life but those at +the bottom of his own pint-pots. + +“Top of the stairs,” says he, indicating my way, “and open the door +ahead of you, if y’are the young gentleman Master Killigrew spoke of.” + +I had my foot on the bottom step, when from the room above comes the +crash of a table upsetting, with a noise of broken glass, chairs thrust +back, and a racket of outcries. Next moment, the door was burst open, +letting out a flood of light and curses; and down flies a drawer, three +steps at a time, with a red stain of wine trickling down his white face. + +“Murder!” he gasped out; and sitting down on a stair, fell to mopping +his face, all sick and trembling. + +I was dashing past him, with the landlord at my heels, when three men +came tumbling out at the door, and downstairs. I squeezed myself against +the wall to let them pass: but Master Davenant was pitch’d to the very +foot of the stairs. And then he picked himself up and ran out into the +Corn Market, the drawer after him, and both shouting “Watch! Watch!” + at the top of their lungs; and so left the three fellows to push by +the women already gathered in the passage, and gain the street at their +ease. All this happen’d while a man could count twenty; and in half a +minute I heard the ring of steel and was standing in the doorway. + +There was now no light within but what was shed by the fire and +two tallow candles that gutter’d on the mantelshelf. The remaining +candlesticks lay in a pool of wine on the floor, amid broken glasses, +bottles, scattered coins, dice boxes and pewter pots. In the corner to +my right cower’d a potboy, with tankard dangling in his hand, and the +contents spilling into his shoes. His wide terrified eyes were fix’d on +the far end of the room, where Anthony and the brute Settle stood, with +a shattered chair between them. Their swords were cross’d in tierce, and +grating together as each sought occasion for a lunge: which might have +been fair enough but for a dog-fac’d trooper in a frowsy black periwig, +who, as I enter’d, was gathering a handful of coins from under the +fallen table, and now ran across, sword in hand, to the Captain’s aid. + +’Twas Anthony that fac’d me, with his heel against the wainscoting, and, +catching my cry of alarm, he call’d out cheerfully over the Captain’s +shoulder, but without lifting his eyes— + +“Just in time, Jack! Take off the second cur, that’s a sweet boy!” + +Now I carried no sword; but seizing the tankard from the potboy’s hand, +I hurl’d it at the dog-fac’d trooper. It struck him fair between the +shoulder blades; and with a yell of pain he spun round and came toward +me, his point glittering in a way that turn’d me cold. I gave back a +pace, snatch’d up a chair (that luckily had a wooden seat) and with my +back against the door, waited his charge. + +’Twas in this posture that, flinging a glance across the room, I saw the +Captain’s sword describe a small circle of light, and next moment, with +a sharp cry, Anthony caught at the blade, and stagger’d against the +wall, pinn’d through the chest to the wainscoting. + +“Out with the lights, Dick!” bawl’d Settle, tugging out his point. +“Quick, fool—the window!” + +Dick, with a back sweep of his hand, sent the candles flying off the +shelf; and, save for the flicker of the hearth, we were in darkness. +I felt, rather than saw, his rush toward me; leap’d aside; and brought +down my chair with a crash on his skull. He went down like a ninepin, +but scrambled up in a trice, and was running for the window. + +There was a shout below as the Captain thrust the lattice open: another, +and the two dark forms had clambered through the purple square of the +casement, and dropped into the bowling-green below. + +By this, I had made my way across the room, and found Anthony sunk +against the wall, with his feet outstretched. There was something he +held out toward me, groping for my hand and at the same time whispering +in a thick, choking voice— + +“Here, Jack, here: pocket it quick!” + +’Twas a letter, and as my fingers closed on it they met a damp smear, +the meaning of which was but too plain. + +“Button it—sharp—in thy breast: now feel for my sword.” + +“First let me tend thy hurt, dear lad.” + +“Nay—quickly, my sword! ’Tis pretty, Jack, to hear thee say ‘dear lad.’ +A cheat to die like this—could have laugh’d for years yet. The dice +were cogg’d—hast found it?” + +I groped beside him, found the hilt, and held it up. + +“So—’tis thine, Jack: and my mare, Molly, and the letter to take. Say +to Delia—Hark! they are on the stairs. Say to—” + +With a shout the door was flung wide, and on the threshold stood the +Watch, their lanterns held high and shining in Anthony’s white face, and +on the black stain where his doublet was thrown open. + +In numbers they were six or eight, led by a small, wrynecked man that +held a long staff, and wore a gilt chain over his furr’d collar. Behind, +in the doorway, were huddled half a dozen women, peering: and Master +Davenant at the back of all, his great face looming over their shoulders +like a moon. + +“Now, speak up, Master Short!” + +“Aye, that I will—that I will: but my head is considering of affairs,” + answered Master Short—he of the wryneck. “One, two, three—” He look’d +round the room, and finding but one capable of resisting (for the potboy +was by this time in a fit), clear’d his throat, and spoke up— + +“In the king’s name, I arrest you all—so help me God! Now what’s the +matter?” + +“Murder,” said I, looking up from my work of staunching Anthony’s wound. + +“Then forbear, and don’t do it.” + +“Why, Master Short, they’ve been forbearin’ these ten minutes,” a +woman’s voice put in. + +“Hush, and hear Master Short: he knows the law, an’ all the dubious +maxims of the same.” + +“Aye, aye: he says forbear i’ the King’s name, which is to say, that +other forbearing is neither law nor grace. Now then, Master Short!” + +Thus exhorted, the man of law continued— + +“I charge ye as honest men to disperse!” + +“Odds truth, Master Short, why you’ve just laid ’em under arrest!” + +“H’m, true: then let ’em stay so—in the king’s name—and have done with +it.” + +Master Short, in fact, was growing testy: but now the women push’d +by him, and, by screaming at the sight of blood, put him out of all +patience. Dragging them back by the skirts, he told me he must take the +depositions, and pull’d out pen and ink horn. + +“Sirs,” said I, laying poor Anthony’s head softly back, “you are too +late: whilst ye were cackling my friend is dead.” + +“Then, young man, thou must come along.” + +“Come along?” + +“The charge is _homocidium_, or manslaying, with or without malice +prepense—” + +“But—” I look’d round. The potboy was insensible, and my eyes fell on +Master Davenant, who slowly shook his head. + +“I’ll say not a word,” said he, stolidly: “lost twenty pound, one time, +by a lawsuit.” + +“Pack of fools!” I cried, driven beyond endurance. “The guilty ones have +escap’d these ten minutes. Now stop me who dares!” + +And dashing my left fist on the nose of a watchman who would have seized +me, I clear’d a space with Anthony’s sword, made a run for the casement, +and dropp’d out upon the bowling-green. + +A pretty shout went up as I pick’d myself off the turf and rush’d for +the back door. ’Twas unbarr’d, and in a moment I found myself tearing +down the passage and out into the Corn Market, with a score or so +tumbling downstairs at my heels, and yelling to stop me. Turning sharp +to my right, I flew up Ship Street, and through the Turl, and doubled +back up the High Street, sword in hand. The people I pass’d were too far +taken aback, as I suppose, to interfere. But a many must have join’d in +the chase: for presently the street behind me was thick with the clatter +of footsteps and cries of “A thief—a thief! Stop him!” + +At Quater Voies I turn’d again, and sped down toward St. Aldate’s, +thence to the left by Wild Boar Street, and into St. Mary’s Lane. By +this, the shouts had grown fainter, but were still following. Now I knew +there was no possibility to get past the city gates, which were +well guarded at night. My hope reach’d no further than the chance of +outwitting the pursuit for a while longer. In the end I was sure the +potboy’s evidence would clear me, and therefore began to enjoy the fun. +Even my certain expulsion from College on the morrow seem’d of a piece +with the rest of events and (prospectively) a matter for laughter. For +the struggle at the “Crown” had unhinged my wits, as I must suppose and +you must believe, if you would understand my behavior in the next half +hour. + +A bright thought had struck me: and taking a fresh wind, I set off again +round the corner of Oriel College, and down Merton Street toward Master +Timothy Carter’s house, my mother’s cousin. This gentleman—who was town +clerk to the Mayor and Corporation of Oxford—was also in a sense my +guardian, holding in trust about L200 (which was all my inheritance), +and spending the same jealously on my education. He was a very small, +precise lawyer, about sixty years old, shaped like a pear, with a +prodigious self-important manner that came of associating with great +men: and all the knowledge I had of him was pick’d up on the rare +occasions (about twice a year) that I din’d at his table. He had early +married and lost an aged shrew, whose money had been the making of him: +and had more respect for law and authority than any three men in Oxford. +So that I reflected, with a kind of desperate hilarity, on the greeting +he was like to give me. + +This kinsman of mine had a fine house at the east end of Merton Street +as you turn into Logic Lane: and I was ten yards from the front door, +and running my fastest, when suddenly I tripp’d and fell headlong. + +Before I could rise, a hand was on my shoulder, and a voice speaking in +my ear— + +“Pardon, comrade. We are two of a trade, I see.” + +’Twas a fellow that had been lurking at the corner of the lane, and had +thrust out a leg as I pass’d. He was pricking up his ears now to the +cries of “Thief—thief!” that had already reach’d the head of the +street, and were drawing near. + +“I am no thief,” said I. + +“Quick!” He dragged me into the shadow of the lane. “Hast a crown in thy +pocket?” + +“Why?” + +“Why, for a good turn. I’ll fog these gentry for thee. Many thanks, +comrade,” as I pull’d out the last few shillings of my pocket money. +“Now pitch thy sword over the wall here, and set thy foot on my hand. +’Tis a rich man’s garden, t’other side, that I was meaning to explore +myself; but another night will serve.” + +“’Tis Master Carter’s,” said I; “and he’s my kinsman.” + +“The devil!—but never mind, up with thee! Now mark a pretty piece of +play. ’Tis pity thou shouldst be across the wall and unable to see.” + +He gave a great hoist: catching at the coping of the wall, I pull’d +myself up and sat astride of it. + +“Good turf below—ta-ta, comrade!” + +By now, the crowd was almost at the corner. Dropping about eight feet on +to good turf, as the fellow had said, I pick’d myself up and listen’d. + +“Which way went he?” call’d one, as they came near. + +“Down the street!” “No: up the lane!’” “Hush!” “Up the lane, I’ll be +sworn.” “Here, hand the lantern!” &c., &c. + +While they debated, my friend stood close on the other side of the wall: +but now I heard him dash suddenly out, and up the lane for his life. +“There he goes!” “Stop him!” the cries broke out afresh. “Stop him, i’ +the king’s name!” The whole pack went pelting by, shouting, stumbling, +swearing. + +For two minutes or more the stragglers continued to hurry past by ones +and twos. As soon as their shouts died away, I drew freer breath and +look’d around. + +I was in a small, turfed garden, well stock’d with evergreen shrubs, +at the back of a tall house that I knew for Master Carter’s. But what +puzzled me was a window in the first floor, very brightly lit, and +certain sounds issuing therefrom that had no correspondence with my +kinsman’s reputation. + + “It was a frog leap’d into a pool— + Fol—de—riddle, went souse in the middle! + Says he, This is better than moping in school. + With a—” + +“—Your Royal Highness, have some pity! What hideous folly! Oh, dear, +dear—” + + “With a fa-la-tweedle-tweedle, + Tiddifol-iddifol-ido!” + +“—Your Royal Highness, I _cannot_ sing the dreadful stuff! Think of my +grey hairs!” + +“Tush! Master Carter—nonsense; ’tis choicely well sung. Come, brother, +the chorus!” + + “With a fa-la—” + + +And the chorus was roar’d forth, with shouts of laughter and clinking +of glasses. Then came an interval of mournful appeal, and my kinsman’s +voice was again lifted—— + + “He scattered the tadpoles, and set ’em agog, + Hey! nod-noddy-all head and no body! + Oh, mammy! Oh, minky!—” + +“—O, mercy, mercy! it makes me sweat for shame.” + +Now meantime I had been searching about the garden, and was lucky enough +to find a tool shed, and inside of this a ladder hanging, which now I +carried across and planted beneath the window. I had a shrewd notion of +what I should find at the top, remembering now to have heard that the +Princes Rupert and Maurice were lodging with Master Carter: but the +truth beat all my fancies. + +For climbing softly up and looking in, I beheld my poor kinsman perch’d +on his chair a-top of the table, in the midst of glasses, decanters, and +desserts: his wig askew, his face white, save where, between the eyes, +a medlar had hit and broken, and his glance shifting wildly between the +two princes, who in easy postures, loose and tipsy, lounged on either +side of him, and beat with their glasses on the board. + +“Bravissimo! More, Master Carter—more!” + + “O mammy, O nunky, here’s cousin Jack Frog— + With a fa-la—” + +I lifted my knuckles and tapp’d on the pane; whereon Prince Maurice +starts up with an oath, and coming to the window, flings it open. + +“Pardon, your Highness,” said I, and pull’d myself past him into the +room, as cool as you please. + +’Twas worth while to see their surprise. Prince Maurice ran back to the +table for his sword: his brother (being more thoroughly drunk) dropped +a decanter on the floor, and lay back staring in his chair. While as for +my kinsman, he sat with mouth wide and eyes starting, as tho’ I were +a very ghost. In the which embarrassment I took occasion to say, very +politely— + +“Good evening, nunky!” + +“Who the devil is this?” gasps Prince Rupert. + +“Why the fact is, your Highnesses,” answered I, stepping up and laying +my sword on the table, while I pour’d out a glass, “Master Timothy +Carter here is my guardian, and has the small sum of L200 in his +possession for my use, of which I happen to-night to stand in immediate +need. So you see—” I finished the sentence by tossing off a glass. +“This is rare stuff!” I said. + +“Blood and fury!” burst out Prince Rupert, fumbling for his sword, and +then gazing, drunk and helpless. + +“Two hundred pound! Thou jackanapes—” began Master Carter. + +“I’ll let you off with fifty to-night,” said I. + +“Ten thousand—!” + +“No, fifty. Indeed, nunky,” I went on, “’tis very simple. I was at the +‘Crown’ tavern—” + +“At a tavern!” + +“Aye, at a game of dice—” + +“Dice!” + +“Aye, and a young man was killed—” + +“Thou shameless puppy! A man murder’d!” + +“Aye, nunky; and the worst is they say ’twas I that kill’d him.” + +“He’s mad. The boy’s stark raving mad!” exclaim’d my kinsman. “To come +here in this trim!” + +“Why, truly, nunky, thou art a strange one to talk of appearances. Oh, +dear!” and I burst into a wild fit of laughing, for the wine had warm’d +me up to play the comedy out. “To hear thee sing + + “‘With a fa—la—tweedle—tweedle!’ + +and—Oh, nunky, that medlar on thy face is so funny!” + +“In Heaven’s name, stop!” broke in the Prince Maurice. “Am I mad, or +only drunk? Rupert, if you love me, say I am no worse than drunk.” + +“Lord knows,” answer’d his brother. “I for one was never this way +before.” + +“Indeed, your Highnesses be only drunk,” said I, “and able at that to +sign the order that I shall ask you for.” + +“An order!” + +“To pass the city gates to-night.” + +“Oh, stop him somebody,” groan’d Prince Rupert: “my head is whirling.” + +“With your leave,” I explain’d, pouring out another glassful: “tis the +simplest matter, and one that a child could understand. You see, this +young man was kill’d, and they charg’d me with it; so away I ran, and +the Watch after me; and therefore I wish to pass the city gates. And as +I may have far to travel, and gave my last groat to a thief for hoisting +me over Master Carter’s wall—” + +“A thief—my wall!” repeated Master Carter. “Oh well is thy poor mother +in her grave!” + +“—Why, therefore I came for money,” I wound up, sipping the wine, and +nodding to all present. + +’Twas at this moment that, catching my eye, the Prince Maurice slapp’d +his leg, and leaning back, broke into peal after peal of laughter. And +in a moment his brother took the jest also; and there we three sat and +shook, and roar’d unquenchably round Master Carter, who, staring blankly +from one to another, sat gaping, as though the last alarm were sounding +in his ears. + +“Oh! oh! oh! Hit me on the back, Maurice!” + +“Oh! oh! I cannot—’tis killing me—Master Carter, for pity’s sake, look +not so; but pay the lad his money.” + +“Your Highness——” + +“Pay it I say; pay it: ’tis fairly won.” + +“Fifty pounds!” + +“Every doit,” said I: “I’m sick of schooling.” + +“Be hang’d if I do!” snapp’d Master Carter. + +“Then be hang’d, sir, but all the town shall hear to-morrow of the frog +and the pool! No, sir: I am off to see the world—— + + “‘Says he: “This is better than moping in school!”’” + +“Your Highnesses,” pleaded the unhappy man, “if, to please you, I sang +that idiocy, which, for fifty years now, I had forgotten——” + +“Exc’ll’nt shong,” says Prince Rupert, waking up; “less have’t again!” + + * * * * * + +To be short, ten o’clock was striking from St. Mary’s spire when, with a +prince on either side of me, and thirty guineas in my pocket (which was +all the loose gold he had), I walked forth from Master Carter’s door. To +make up the deficiency, their highnesses had insisted on furnishing +me with a suit made up from the simplest in their joint +wardrobes—riding-boots, breeches, buff-coat, sash, pistols, cloak, and +feather’d hat, all of which fitted me excellently well. By the doors of +Christ Church, before we came to the south gate, Prince Rupert, who had +been staggering in his walk, suddenly pull’d up, and leaned against the +wall. + +“Why—odd’s my life—we’ve forgot a horse for him!” he cried. + +“Indeed, your Highness,” I answered, “if my luck holds the same, I shall +find one by the road.” (How true this turned out you shall presently +hear.) + +There was no difficulty at the gate, where the sentry recogniz’d the two +princes and open’d the wicket at once. Long after it had clos’d behind +me, and I stood looking back at Oxford towers, all bath’d in the winter +moonlight, I heard the two voices roaring away up the street: + + “It was a frog leap’d into a pool—” + +At length they died into silence; and, hugging the king’s letter in my +breast, I stepped briskly forward on my travels. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +I TAKE THE ROAD. + + +So puffed up was I by the condescension of the two princes, and my head +so busy with big thoughts, that not till I was over the bridges and +climbing the high ground beyond South Hincksey, with a shrewd northeast +wind at my back, could I spare time for a second backward look. By this, +the city lay spread at my feet, very delicate and beautiful in a silver +network, with a black clump or two to southward, where the line of +Bagley trees ran below the hill. I pulled out the letter that Anthony +had given me. In the moonlight the brown smear of his blood was plain to +see, running across the superscription: + +“_To our trusty and well beloved Sir Ralph Hopton, at our Army in +Cornwall—these._” + +’Twas no more than I look’d for; yet the sight of it and the king’s red +seal, quicken’d my step as I set off again. And I cared not a straw for +Dr. Kettle’s wrath on the morrow. + +Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay +around Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape +my course for Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. ’Tis not my +purpose to describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to reserve +my pen for those more moving events that overtook me later. Only in the +uncertain light I must have taken a wrong turn to the left (I think near +Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for, coming about daybreak +to a considerable town, I found it to be, not Faringdon, but Wantage. +There was no help for it, so I set about enquiring for a bed. The town +was full, and already astir with preparations for cattle-fair; and +neither at the “Bear” nor the “Three Nuns” was there a bed to be had. +But at length at the “Boot” tavern—a small house, I found one just +vacated by a couple of drovers, and having cozen’d the chambermaid to +allow me a clean pair of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in +five minutes was sleeping sound. + +I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of womankind. + +“He’s waking,” said one. + +“Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus—and he such a pretty young man!” + +This came from the landlady, who stood close, her hand shaking my +shoulder roughly. + +“What’s amiss?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. + +“Why, ’tis three of the afternoon.” + +“Then I’ll get up, as soon as you retire.” + +“Lud! we’ve been trying to wake thee this hour past; but ’twas +sleep—sleep!” + +“I’ll get up, I tell you.” + +“Thought thee’d ha’ slept through the bed and right through to the +floor,” said the chambermaid by the door, tittering. + +“Unless you pack and go, I’ll step out amongst you all!” + +Whereat they fled with mock squeals, calling out that the very thought +made them blush: and left me to dress. + +Downstairs I found a giant’s breakfast spread for me, and ate the hole, +and felt the better for it: and thereupon paid my scot, resisting the +landlady’s endeavor to charge me double for the bed, and walked out to +see the town. + +“Take care o’ thysel’,” the chambermaid bawled after me; “nor flourish +thy attainments abroad, lest they put thee in a show!” + +Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended +purchasing a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over, the +cattle-pens broken up, and the dealers gather’d round the fiddlers, +ballad singers, and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming booths, too, +driving a brisk trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and Costly Colors; and +an eating tent, whence issued a thick reek of cooking and loud rattle of +plates. Over the entrance, I remember, was set a notice: “_Dame Alloway +from Bartholomew Fair. Here are the best geese, and she does them as +well as ever she did_.” I jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my +pockets, for fear of cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the +street, there arose the noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward +it; and in a minute I was left alone, standing before a juggler who had +a sword halfway down his throat, and had to draw it out again before +he could with any sufficiency curse the defection of his audience; but +offered to pull out a tooth for me if I wanted it. + +I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn’d the cause of this +tumult. + +’Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking pockets: +and they were dragging him off to be duck’d. Now in the heart of Wantage +the little stream that runs through the town is widen’d into a cistern +about ten feet square, and five in depth, over which hung a ducking +stool for scolding wives. And since the townspeople draw their water +from this cistern, ’tis to be supposed they do not fear the infection. A +long beam on a pivot hangs out over the pool, and to the end is a chair +fasten’d; into which, despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped +this poor wretch, whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him. + +Souse! he was plunged: hauled up choking and dripping: then—just as he +found tongue to shriek—souse! again. + +’Twas a dismal punishment; and this time they kept him under for a full +half minute. But as the beam was lifted again, I heard a hullaballoo and +a cry— + +“The bear! the bear!” + +And turning, I saw a great brown form lumbering down the street behind, +and driving the people before it like chaff. + +The crowd at the brink of the pool scatter’d to right and left, yelling. +Up flew the beam of the ducking stool, reliev’d of their weight, and +down with a splash went the pickpocket at the far end. As well for my +own skin’s sake as out of pity to see him drowning, I jumped into the +water. In two strokes I reach’d him, gained footing, and with Anthony’s +sword cut the straps away and pull’d him up. And there we stood, up to +our necks, coughing and spluttering; while on the deserted brink the +bear sniff’d at the water and regarded us. + +No doubt we appear’d contemptible enough: for after a time he turned +with a louder sniff, and went his way lazily up the street again. He had +broken out from the pit wherein, for the best part of the day, they had +baited him; yet seemed to bear little malice. For he saunter’d about +the town for an hour or two, hurting no man, but making a clean sweep +of every sweet stall in his way; and was taken at last very easily, with +his head in a treacle cask, by the bear ward and a few dogs. + +Meanwhile the pickpocket and I had scrambled out by the further bank and +wrung our clothes. He seemed to resent his treatment no more than did +the bear. + +“Ben cove—’tis a good world. My thanks!” + +And with this scant gratitude he was gone, leaving me to make my way +back to the sign of “The Boot,” where the chambermaid led me upstairs, +and took away my clothes to dry by the fire. I determin’d to buy a +horse on the morrow, and with my guineas and the King’s letter under the +pillow, dropp’d off to slumber again. + +My powers of sleep must have been nois’d abroad by the hostess: for next +morning at the breakfast ordinary, the dealers and drovers laid down +knife and fork to stare as I enter’d. After a while one or two lounged +out and brought in others to look: so that soon I was in a ring of +stupid faces, all gazing like so many cows. + +For a while I affected to eat undisturbed: but lost patience at last and +addressed a red-headed gazer—— + +“If you take me for a show, you ought to pay.” + +“That’s fair,” said the fellow, and laid a groat on the board. This came +near to putting me in a passion, but his face was serious. “’Tis a real +pleasure,” he added heartily, “to look on one so gifted.” + +“If any of you,” I said, “could sell me a horse——” + +At once there was a clamor, all bidding in one breath for my custom. So +finishing my breakfast, I walked out with them to the tavern yard, where +I had my pick among the sorriest-looking dozen of nags in England, and +finally bought from the red-haired man, for five pounds, bridle, saddle, +and a flea-bitten grey that seem’d more honestly raw-boned than the +rest. And the owner wept tears at the parting with his beast, and +thereby added a pang to the fraud he had already put upon me. And I rode +from the tavern door suspecting laughter in the eyes of every passer-by. + +The day (’twas drawing near noon as I started) was cold and clear, with +a coating of rime over the fields: and my horse’s feet rang cheerfully +on the frozen road. His pace was of the soberest: but, as I was no +skilful rider, this suited me rather than not. Only it was galling to be +told so, as happened before I had gone three miles. + +’Twas my friend the pickpocket: and he sat before a fire of dry sticks a +little way back from the road. His scanty hair, stiff as a badger’s, +now stood upright around his batter’d cap, and he look’d at me over the +bushes, with his hook’d nose thrust forward like a bird’s beak. + +“Bien lightmans, comrade—good day! ’Tis a good world; so stop and +dine.” + +I pull’d up my grey. + +“Glad you find it so,” I answered; “you had a nigh chance to compare it +with the next, last night.” + +“Shan’t do so well i’ the next, I fear,” he said with a twinkle: “but +I owe thee something, and here’s a hedgehog that in five minutes’ll be +baked to a turn. ’Tis a good world, and the better that no man can count +on it. Last night my dripping duds helped me to a cant tale, and got me +a silver penny from a man of religion. Good’s in the worst; and life’s +like hunting the squirrel—a man gets much good exercise thereat, but +seldom what he hunts for.” + +“That’s as good morality as Aristotle’s,” said I. + +“’Tis better for _me_, because ’tis mine.” While I tether’d my horse he +blew at the embers, wherein lay a good-sized ball of clay, baking. After +a while he look’d up with red cheeks. “They were so fast set on drowning +me,” he continued with a wink, “they couldn’t spare time to look i’ my +pocket—the ruffin cly them!” + +He pull’d the clay ball out of the fire, crack’d it, and lo! inside was +a hedgehog cook’d, the spikes sticking in the clay, and coming away with +it. So he divided the flesh with his knife, and upon a slice of bread +from his wallet it made very delicate eating: tho’ I doubt if I enjoyed +it as much as did my comrade, who swore over and over that the world +was good, and as the wintry sun broke out, and the hot ashes warm’d his +knees, began to chatter at a great pace. + +“Why, sir, but for the pretty uncertainty of things I’d as lief die here +as I sit——” + +He broke off at the sound of wheels, and a coach with two postillions +spun past us on the road. + +I had just time to catch a glimpse of a figure huddled in the corner, +and a sweet pretty girl with chestnut curls seated beside it, behind the +glass. After the coach came a heavy broad-shoulder’d servant riding on +a stout grey; who flung us a sharp glance as he went by, and at twenty +yards’ distance turn’d again to look. + +“That’s luck,” observed the pickpocket, as the travelers disappear’d +down the highway: “To-morrow, with a slice of it, I might be riding in +such a coach as that, and have the hydropsy, to boot. Good lack! when I +was ta’en prisoner by the Turks a-sailing i’ the _Mary_ of London, +and sold for a slave at Algiers, I escap’d, after two months, with Eli +Sprat, a Gravesend man, in a small open boat. Well, we sail’d three +days and nights, and all the time there was a small sea bird following, +flying round and round us, and calling two notes that sounded for all +the world like ‘Wind’ard! Wind’ard!’ So at last says Eli, ‘’Tis heaven’s +voice bidding us ply to wind’ard.’ And so we did, and on the fourth day +made Marseilles; and who should be first to meet Eli on the quay but a +Frenchwoman he had married five years before, and left. And the jade had +him clapp’d in the pillory, alongside of a cheating fishmonger with a +collar of stinking smelts, that turn’d poor Eli’s stomach completely. +Now there’s somewhat to set against the story of Whittington next time +’tis told you.” + +I was now for bidding the old rascal good-bye. But he offer’d to go with +me as far as Hungerford, where we should turn into the Bath road. At +first I was shy of accepting, by reason of his coat, wherein patches of +blue, orange-tawny and flame-color quite overlaid the parent black: but +closed with him upon his promise to teach me the horsemanship that I so +sadly lacked. And by time we enter’d Hungerford town I was advanced so +far, and bestrode my old grey so easily, that in gratitude I offer’d him +supper and bed at an inn, if he would but buy a new coat: to which he +agreed, saying that the world was good. + +By this, the day was clouded over and the rain coming down apace. So +that as soon as my comrade was decently array’d at the first slopshop +we came to, ’twas high time to seek an inn. We found quarters at “The +Horn,” and sought the travelers’ room, and a fire to dry ourselves. + +In this room, at the window, were two men who look’d lazily up at our +entrance. They were playing at a game, which was no other than to race +two snails up a pane of glass and wager which should prove the faster. + +“A wet day!” said my comrade, cheerfully. + +The pair regarded him. “I’ll lay you a crown it clears within the hour!” + said one. + +“And I another,” put in the other; and with that they went back to their +sport. + +Drawing near, I myself was soon as eager as they in watching the snails, +when my companion drew my notice to a piece of writing on the window +over which they were crawling. ’Twas a set of verses scribbled there, +that must have been scratch’d with a diamond: and to my surprise—for I +had not guess’d him a scholar—he read them out for my benefit. Thus the +writing ran, for I copied it later: + +“_Master Ephraim Tucker_, his dying councell to wayfardingers; to seek +_The Splendid Spur_. + + “Not on the necks of prince or hound, + Nor on a woman’s finger twin’d, + May gold from the deriding ground + Keep sacred that we sacred bind + Only the heel + Of splendid steel + Shall stand secure on sliding fate, + When golden navies weep their freight. + + “The scarlet hat, the laurell’d stave + Are measures, not the springs, of worth; + In a wife’s lap, as in a grave, + Man’s airy notions mix with earth. + Seek other spur + Bravely to stir + The dust in this loud world, and tread + Alp-high among the whisp’ring dead. + + “_Trust in thyself_,—then spur amain: + So shall Charybdis wear a grace, + Grim Aetna laugh, the Lybian plain + Take roses to her shrivell’d face. + This orb—this round + Of sight and sound— + Count it the lists that God hath built + For haughty hearts to ride a-tilt. + +“FINIS-Master Tucker’s Farewell.” + +“And a very pretty moral on four gentlemen that pass their afternoon a +setting snails to race!” + +At these words, spoken in a delicate foreign voice we all started round: +and saw a young lady standing behind us. + +Now that she was the one who had passed us in the coach I saw at once. +But describe her—to be plain—I cannot, having tried a many times. +So let me say only that she was the prettiest creature on God’s earth +(which, I hope, will satisfy her); that she had chestnut curls and a +mouth made for laughing; that she wore a kirtle and bodice of grey silk +taffety, with a gold pomander-box hung on a chain about her neck; and +held out a drinking glass toward us with a Frenchified grace. + +“Gentlemen, my father is sick, and will taste no water but what is +freshly drawn. I ask you not to brave Charybdis or Aetna, but to step +out into the rainy yard and draw me a glassful from the pump there: for +our servant is abroad in the town.” + +To my deep disgust, before I could find a word, that villainous old +pickpocket had caught the glass from her hand and reached the door. But +I ran after; and out into the yard we stepp’d together, where I pump’d +while he held the glass to the spout, flinging away the contents time +after time, till the bubbles on the brim, and the film on the outside, +were to his liking. + +’Twas he, too, that gain’d the thanks on our return. + +“Mistress,” said he with a bow, “my young friend is raw, but has a +good will. Confess, now, for his edification—for he is bound on a long +journey westward, where, they tell me, the maidens grow comeliest—that +looks avail naught with womankind beside a dashing manner.” + +The young gentlewoman laughed, shaking her curls. + +“I’ll give him in that case three better counsels yet: first (for by his +habit I see he is on the King’s side), let him take a circuit from this +place to the south, for the road between Marlboro’ and Bristol is, they +tell me, all held by the rebels; next, let him avoid all women, even +tho’ they ask but an innocent cup of water; and lastly, let him shun +thee, unless thy face lie more than thy tongue. Shall I say more?” + +“Why, no—perhaps better not,” replied the old rogue hastily, but +laughing all the same. “That’s a clever lass,” he added, as the door +shut behind her. + +And, indeed, I was fain, next morning, to agree to this. For, awaking, I +found my friend (who had shar’d a room with me) already up and gone, and +discovered the reason in a sheet of writing pinn’d to my clothes—— + +“Young Sir,—I convict myself of ingratitude: but habit is hard to +break. So I have made off with the half of thy guineas and thy horse. +The residue, and the letter thou bearest, I leave. ’Tis a good world, +and experience should be bought early. This golden lesson I leave in +return for the guineas. Believe me, ’tis of more worth. Read over those +verses on the windowpane before starting, digest them, and trust me, thy +obliged, + +“Peter, The Jackman. + +“Raise not thy hand so often to thy breast: ’tis a sure index of hidden +valuables.” + +Be sure I was wroth enough: nor did the calm interest of the two snail +owners appease me, when at breakfast I told them a part of the story. +But I thought I read sympathy in the low price at which one of them +offer’d me his horse. ’Twas a tall black brute, very strong in the +loins, and I bought him at once out of my shrunken stock of guineas. +At ten o’clock, I set out, not along the Bath road, but bearing to the +south, as the young gentlewoman had counselled. I began to hold a high +opinion of her advice. + +By twelve o’clock I was back at the inn door, clamoring to see the man +that sold me the horse, which had gone dead lame after the second mile. + +“Dear heart!” cried the landlord; “they are gone, the both, this hour +and a half. But they are coming again within the fortnight; and I’m +expressly to report if you return’d, as they had a wager about it.” + +I turn’d away, pondering. Two days on the road had put me sadly out of +conceit with myself. For mile upon mile I trudged, dragging the horse +after me by the bridle, till my arms felt as if coming from their +sockets. I would have turn’d the brute loose, and thought myself well +quit of him, had it not been for the saddle and bridle he carried. + + * * * * * + +’Twas about five in the evening, and I still laboring along, when, over +the low hedge to my right, a man on a sorrel mare leap’d easily as a +swallow, and alighted some ten paces or less in front of me; where he +dismounted and stood barring my path. The muzzle of his pistol was in my +face before I could lay hand to my own. + +“Good evening!” said I. + +“You have money about you, doubtless,” growled the man curtly, and in a +voice that made me start. For by his voice and figure in the dusk I knew +him for Captain Settle: and in the sorrel with the high white stocking +I recognized the mare, Molly, that poor Anthony Killigrew had given me +almost with his last breath. + +The bully did not know me, having but seen me for an instant at “The +Crown,” and then in very different attire. + +“I have but a few poor coins,” I answer’d. + +“Then hand ’em over.” + +“Be shot if I do!” said I in a passion; and pulling out a handful from +my pocket, I dash’d them down in the road. + +For a moment the Captain took his pistol from my face, and stooped to +clutch at the golden coins as they trickled and ran to right and +left. The next, I had struck out with my right fist, and down he went +staggering. His pistol dropped out of his hand and exploded between +my feet. I rush’d to Molly, caught her bridle, and leap’d on her back. +’Twas a near thing, for the Captain was rushing toward us. But at the +call of my voice the mare gave a bound and turn’d: and down the road I +was borne, light as a feather. + +A bullet whizz’d past my ear: I heard the Captain’s curse mingle with +the report: and then was out of range, and galloping through the dusk. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE CUPS.” + + +Secure of pursuit, and full of delight in the mare’s easy motion, I must +have travelled a good six miles before the moon rose. In the frosty +sky her rays sparkled cheerfully, and by them I saw on the holsters the +silver demi-bear that I knew to be the crest of the Killigrews, having +the fellow to it engraved on my sword-hilt. So now I was certain ’twas +Molly that I bestrode: and took occasion of the light to explore the +holsters and saddle flap. + +Poor Anthony’s pistols were gone—filched, no doubt, by the Captain: +but you may guess my satisfaction, when on thrusting my hand deeper, I +touched a heap of coins, and found them to be gold. + +’Twas certainly a rare bargain I had driven with Captain Settle. For +the five or six gold pieces I scatter’d on the road, I had won close +on thirty guineas, as I counted in the moonlight; not to speak of this +incomparable Molly. And I began to whistle gleefully, and taste the joke +over again and laugh to myself, as we cantered along with the north wind +at our backs. + +All the same, I had no relish for riding thus till morning. For the +night was chill enough to search my very bones after the heat of the +late gallop: and, moreover, I knew nothing of the road, which at this +hour was quite deserted. So that, coming at length to a tall hill with a +black ridge of pine wood standing up against the moon like a fish’s fin, +I was glad enough to note below it, and at some distance from the trees, +a window brightly lit; and pushed forward in hope of entertainment. + +The building was an inn, though a sorry one. Nor, save for the lighted +window, did it wear any grace of hospitality, but thrust out a bare +shoulder upon the road, and a sign that creaked overhead and look’d for +all the world like a gallows. Round this shoulder of the house, and into +the main yard (that turn’d churlishly toward the hillside), the wind +howled like a beast in pain. I climb’d off Molly, and pressing my hat +down on my head, struck a loud rat-tat on the door. + +Curiously, it opened at once; and I saw a couple of men in the lighted +passage. + +“Heard the mare’s heels on the road, Cap—. Hillo! What in the fiend’s +name is this?” + +Said I: “If you are he that keeps this house, I want two things of +you—first, a civil tongue, and next a bed.” + +“Ye’ll get neither, then.” + +“Your sign says that you keep an inn.” + +“Aye—the ‘Three Cups’: but we’re full.” + +“Your manner of speech proves that to be a lie.” + +I liked the fellow’s voice so little that ’tis odds I would have +re-mounted Molly and ridden away; but at this instant there floated down +the stairs and out through the drink-smelling passage a sound that made +me jump. ’Twas a girl’s voice singing—— + + “Hey nonni—nonni—no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is’t not fine to laugh and sing + When the bells of death do ring——” + +There was no doubt upon it. The voice belonged to the young gentlewoman +I had met at Hungerford. I turned sharply toward the landlord, and was +met by another surprise. The second man, that till now had stood well +back in the shadow, was peering forward, and devouring Molly with his +gaze. ’Twas hard to read his features, but then and there I would have +wagered my life he was no other than Luke Settle’s comrade, Black Dick. + +My mind was made up. “I’ll not ride a step further, to-night,” said I. + +“Then bide there and freeze,” answer’d the landlord. + +He was for slamming the door in my face, when the other caught him +by the arm and, pulling him a little back, whisper’d a word or two. I +guess’d what this meant, but resolved not to draw back; and presently +the landlord’s voice began again, betwixt surly and polite—— + +“Have ye too high a stomach to lie on straw?” + +“Oho!” thought I to myself, “then I am to be kept for the mare’s sake, +but not admitted to the house:” and said aloud that I could put up with +a straw bed. + +“Because there’s the stable loft at your service. As ye hear” (and in +fact the singing still went on, only now I heard a man’s voice joining +in the catch) “our house is full of company. But straw is clean bedding, +and the mare I’ll help to put in stall.” + +“Agreed,” I said, “on one condition—that you send out a maid to me with +a cup of mulled sack: for this cold eats me alive.” + +To this he consented: and stepping back into a side room with the other +fellow, returned in a minute alone, and carrying a lantern which, in +spite of the moon, was needed to guide a stranger across that ruinous +yard. The flare, as we pick’d our way along, fell for a moment on +an open cart shed and, within, on the gilt panels of a coach that I +recogniz’d. In the stable, that stood at the far end of the court, I +was surprised to find half a dozen horses standing, ready saddled, and +munching their fill of oats. They were ungroom’d, and one or two in +a lather of sweat that on such a night was hard to account for. But I +asked no questions, and my companion vouchsafed no talk, though twice +I caught him regarding me curiously as I unbridled the mare in the +only vacant stall. Not a word pass’d as he took the lantern off the peg +again, and led the way up a ramshackle ladder to the loft above. He was +a fat, lumbering fellow, and made the old timbers creak. At the top he +set down the light, and pointed to a heap of straw in the corner. + +“Yon’s your bed,” he growled; and before I could answer, was picking his +way down the ladder again. + +I look’d about, and shiver’d. The eaves of my bedchamber were scarce on +speaking terms with the walls, and through a score of crannies at least +the wind poured and whistled, so that after shifting my truss of straw +a dozen times I found myself still the centre of a whirl of draught. The +candle-flame, too, was puffed this way and that inside the horn sheath. +I was losing patience when I heard footsteps below; the ladder creak’d, +and the red hair and broad shoulders of a chambermaid rose into view. +She carried a steaming mug in her hand, and mutter’d all the while in no +very choice talk. + +The wench had a kind face, tho’; and a pair of eyes that did her more +credit than her tongue. + +“And what’s to be my reward for this, I want to know?” she panted out, +resting her left palm on her hip. + +“Why, a groat or two,” said I, “when it comes to the reckoning.” + +“Lud!” she cried, “what a dull young man!” + +“Dull?” + +“Aye—to make me ask for a kiss in so many words:” and with the back of +her left hand she wiped her mouth for it frankly, while she held out the +mug in her right. + +“Oh!” I said, “I beg your pardon, but my wits are frozen up, I think. +There’s two, for interest: and another if you tell me whom your master +entertains to-night, that I must be content with this crib.” + +She took the kisses with composure and said— + +“Well—to begin, there’s the gentlefolk that came this afternoon with +their own carriage and heathenish French servant: a cranky old grandee +and a daughter with more airs than a peacock: Sir Something-or-other +Killigew—Lord bless the boy!” + +For I had dropp’d the mug and spilt the hot sack all about the straw, +where it trickled away with a fragrance reproachfully delicious. + +“Now I beg your pardon a hundred times: but the chill is in my bones +worse than the ague;” and huddling my shoulders up, I counterfeited a +shivering fit with a truthfulness that surpris’d myself. + +“Poor lad!” + +“—And ’tis first hot and then cold all down my spine.” + +“There, now!” + +“-And goose flesh and flushes all over my body.” + +“Dear heart-and to pass the night in this grave of a place!” + +“—And by morning I shall be in a high fever: and oh! I feel I shall die +of it!” + +“Don’t—don’t!” The honest girl’s eyes were full of tears. “I wonder, +now—” she began: and I waited, eager for her next words. “Sure, +master’s at cards in the parlor, and ’ll be drunk by midnight. Shalt +pass the night by the kitchen fire, if only thou make no noise.” + +“But your mistress—what will she say?” + +“Is in heaven these two years: and out of master’s speaking distance +forever. So blow out the light and follow me gently.” + +Still feigning to shiver, I follow’d her down the ladder, and through +the stable into the open. The wind by this time had brought up some +heavy clouds, and mass’d them about the moon: but ’twas freezing hard, +nevertheless. The girl took me by the hand to guide me: for, save from +the one bright window in the upper floor, there was no light at all in +the yard. Clearly, she was in dread of her master’s anger, for we stole +across like ghosts, and once or twice she whisper’d a warning when my +toe kick’d against a loose cobble. But just as I seem’d to be walking +into a stone wall, she put out her hand, I heard the click of a latch, +and stood in a dark, narrow passage. + +The passage led to a second door that open’d on a wide, stone-pav’d +kitchen, lit by a cheerful fire, whereon a kettle hissed and bubbled as +the vapor lifted the cover. Close by the chimney corner was a sort of +trap, or buttery hatch, for pushing the hot dishes conveniently into the +parlor on the other side of the wall. Besides this, for furniture, the +room held a broad deal table, an oak dresser, a linen press, a rack with +hams and strings of onions depending from it, a settle and a chair or +two, with (for decoration) a dozen or so of ballad sheets stuck among +the dish covers along the wall. + +“Sit,” whisper’d the girl, “and make no noise, while I brew a rack-punch +for the men-folk in the parlor.” She jerked her thumb toward the buttery +hatch, where I had already caught the mur-mer of voices. + +I took up a chair softly, and set it down between the hatch and the +fireplace, so that while warming my knees I could catch any word spoken +more than ordinary loud on the other side of the wall. The chambermaid +stirr’d the fire briskly, and moved about singing as she fetch’d down +bottles and glasses from the dresser—— + + “Lament ye maids an’ darters + For constant Sarah Ann, + Who hang’d hersel’ in her garters + All for the love o’ man, + All for the—” + +She was pausing, bottle in hand, to take the high note: but hush’d +suddenly at the sound of the voices singing in the room upstairs— + + “Vivre en tout cas + C’est le grand soulas + Des honnetes gens!” + +“That’s the foreigners,” said the chambermaid, and went on with her +ditty—— + + “All for the love of a souljer + Who christening name was Jan.” + +A volley of oaths sounded through the buttery hatch. + +“—And that’s the true-born Englishmen, as you may tell by their speech. +’Tis pretty company the master keeps, these days.” + +She was continuing her song, when I held up a finger for silence. +In fact, through the hatch my ear had caught a sentence that set me +listening for more with a still heart. + +“D—n the Captain,” the landlord’s gruff voice was saying; “I warn’d ’n +agen this fancy business when sober, cool-handed work was toward.” + +“Settle’s way from his cradle,” growl’d another; “and times enough I’ve +told ’n: ‘Cap’n,’ says I, ‘there’s no sense o’ proportions about ye.’ A +master mind, sirs, but ’a ’ll be hang’d for a hen-roost, so sure as my +name’s Bill Widdicomb.” + +“Ugly words-what a creeping influence has that same mention o’ hanging!” + piped a thinner voice. + +“Hold thy complaints, Old Mortification,” put in a speaker that I +recogniz’d for Black Dick; “sure the pretty maid upstairs is tender +game. Hark how they sing!” + +And indeed the threatened folk upstairs were singing their catch very +choicely, with a girl’s clear voice to lead them— + + “Comment dit papa + —Margoton, ma mie?” + +“Heathen language, to be sure,” said the thin voice again, as the chorus +ceased: “thinks I to mysel’ ‘they be but Papisters,’ an’ my doubting +mind is mightily reconcil’d to manslaughter.” + +“I don’t like beginning ’ithout the Cap’n,” observed Black Dick: “though +I doubt something has miscarried. Else, how did that young spark ride in +upon the mare?” + +“An’ that’s what thy question should ha’ been, Dick, with a pistol to +his skull.” + +“He’ll keep till the morrow.” + +“We’ll give Settle half-an-hour more,” said the landlord: “Mary!” he +push’d open the hatch, so that I had barely time to duck my head out of +view, “fetch in the punch, girl. How did’st leave the young man i’ the +loft?’ + +“Asleep, or nearly,” answer’d Mary— + + “Who hang’d hersel’ in her gar-ters, + All for the love o’ man—” + +“—Anon, anon, master: wait only till I get the kettle on the boil.” + +The hatch was slipp’d to again. I stood up and made a step toward the +girl. + +“How many are they?” I ask’d, jerking a finger in the direction of the +parlor. + +“A dozen all but one.” + +“Where is the foreign guests’ room?” + +“Left hand, on the first landing.” + +“The staircase?” + +“Just outside the door.” + +“Then sing—go on singing for your life.” + +“But—” + +“Sing!” + +“Dear heart, they’ll murder thee! Oh! for pity’s sake, let go my +wrist— + + “‘Lament, ye maids an’ darters—’” + +I stole to the door and peep’d out. A lantern hung in the passage, and +showed the staircase directly in front of me. I stay’d for a moment +to pull off my boots, and, holding them in my left hand, crept up the +stairs. In the kitchen, the girl was singing and clattering the glasses +together. Behind the door, at the head of the stairs, I heard voices +talking. I slipp’d on my boots again and tapp’d on the panel. + +“Come in!” + +Let me try to describe that on which my eyes rested as I push’d the door +wide. ’Twas a long room, wainscoted half up the wall in some dark wood, +and in daytime lit by one window only, which now was hung with red +curtains. By the fireplace, where a brisk wood fire was crackling, +lean’d the young gentlewoman I had met at Hungerford, who, as she now +turn’d her eyes upon me, ceas’d fingering the guitar or mandoline that +she held against her waist, and raised her pretty head not without +curiosity. + +But ’twas on the table in the centre of the chamber that my gaze +settled; and on two men beside it, of whom I must speak more +particularly. + +The elder, who sat in a high-back’d chair, was a little, frail, deform’d +gentleman of about fifty, dress’d very richly in dark velvet and furs, +and wore on his head a velvet skullcap, round which his white hair stuck +up like a ferret’s. But the oddest thing about him was a complexion +that any maid of sixteen would give her ears for—of a pink and white +so transparent that it seem’d a soft light must be glowing beneath his +skin. On either cheek bone this delicate coloring centred in a deeper +flush. This is as much as I need say about his appearance, except that +his eyes were very bright and sharp, and his chin stuck out like a +vicious mule’s. + +The table before him was cover’d with bottles and flasks, in the middle +of which stood a silver lamp burning, and over it a silver saucepan that +sent up a rare fragrance as the liquid within it simmer’d and bubbled. +So eager was the old gentleman in watching the progress of his mixture, +that he merely glanc’d up at my entrance, and then, holding up a hand +for silence, turn’d his eyes on the saucepan again. + +The second man was the broad-shouldered lackey I had seen riding behind +the coach: and now stood over the saucepan with a twisted flask in his +hand, from which he pour’d a red syrup very gingerly, drop by drop, with +the tail of his eye turn’d on his master’s face, that he might know when +to cease. + +Now it may be that my entrance upset this experiment in strong drinks. +At any rate, I had scarce come to a stand about three paces inside the +door, when the little old gentleman bounces up in a fury, kicks over his +chair, hurls the nearest bottles to right and left, and sends the silver +saucepan spinning across the table to my very feet, where it scalded me +clean through the boot, and made me hop for pain. + +“Spoil’d—spoil’d!” he scream’d: “drench’d in filthy liquor, when it +should have breath’d but a taste!” + +And, to my amazement, he sprang on the strapping servant like a +wild-cat, and began to beat, cuff, and belabor him with all the strength +of his puny limbs. + +’Twas like a scene out of Bedlam. Yet all the while the girl lean’d +quietly against the mantelshelf, and softly touched the strings of her +instrument; while the servant took the rain of blows and slaps as +though ’twere a summer shower, grinning all over his face, and making no +resistance at all. + +Then, as I stood dumb with perplexity, the old gentleman let go his hold +of the fellow’s hair, and, dropping on the floor, began to roll about in +a fit of coughing, the like of which no man can imagine. ’Twas hideous. +He bark’d, and writhed, and bark’d again, till the disorder seem’d to +search and rack every innermost inch of his small frame. And in the +intervals of coughing his exclamations were terrible to listen to. + +“He’s dying!” I cried; and ran forward to help. + +The servant pick’d up the chair, and together we set him in it. By +degrees the violence of the cough abated, and he lay back, livid in the +face, with his eyes closed, and his hands clutching the knobs of the +chair. I turn’d to the girl. She had neither spoken nor stirr’d, but now +came forward, and calmly ask’d my business. + +“I think,” said I, “that your name is Killigrew?” + +“I am Delia Killigrew, and this is my father, Sir Deakin.” + +“Now on his way to visit his estates in Cornwall?” + +She nodded. + +“Then I have to warn you that your lives are in danger.” And, gently as +possible, I told her what I had seen and heard downstairs. In the middle +of my tale, the servant stepp’d to the door, and return’d quietly. There +was no lock on the inside. After a minute he went across, and drew the +red curtains. The window had a grating within, of iron bars as thick as +a man’s thumb, strongly clamp’d in the stonework, and not four inches +apart. Clearly, he was a man of few words; for, returning, he merely +pull’d out his sword, and waited for the end of my tale. + +The girl, also, did not interrupt me, but listen’d in silence. As I +ceas’d, she said—— + +“Is this all you know?” + +“No,” answer’d I, “it is not. But the rest I promise to tell you if we +escape from this place alive. Will this content you?” + +She turn’d to the servant, who nodded. Whereupon she held out her hand +very cordially. + +“Sir, listen: we are travelers bound for Cornwall, as you know, and +have some small possessions, that will poorly reward the greed of these +violent men. Nevertheless, we should be hurrying on our journey did we +not await my brother Anthony, who was to have ridden from Oxford to join +us here, but has been delayed, doubtless on the King’s business——” + +She broke off, as I started: for below I heard the main door open, and +Captain Settle’s voice in the passage. The arch villain had return’d. + +“Mistress Delia,” I said hurriedly, “the twelfth man has enter’d the +house, and unless we consider our plans at once, all’s up with us.” + +“Tush!” said the old gentleman in the chair, who (it seems) had heard +all, and now sat up brisk as ever. “I, for my part shall mix another +glass, and leave it all to Jacques. Come, sit by me, sir, and you shall +see some pretty play. Why, Jacques is the neatest rogue with a small +sword in all France!” + +“Sir,” I put in, “they are a round dozen in all, and your life at +present is not worth a penny’s purchase.” + +“That’s a lie! ’Tis worth this bowl before me, that, with or without +you, I mean to empty. What a fool thing is youth! Sir, you must be a +dying man like myself to taste life properly.” And, as I am a truthful +man, he struck up quavering merrily— + + “Hey, nonni—nonni—no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is’t not fine to laugh and sing + When the bells of death do ring? + Is’t not fine to drown in wine, + And turn upon the toe, + And sing, hey—nonni—no? + Hey, nonni—nonni—” + +“—Come and sit, sir, nor spoil sport. You are too raw, I’ll wager, to +be of any help; and boggling I detest.” + +“Indeed, sir,” I broke in, now thoroughly anger’d, “I can use the small +sword as well as another.” + +“Tush! Try him, Jacques.” + +Jacques, still wearing a stolid face, brought his weapon to the guard. +Stung to the quick, I wheel’d round, and made a lunge or two, that he +put aside as easily as though I were a babe. And then—I know not how it +happened, but my sword slipp’d like ice out of my grasp, and went flying +across the room. Jacques, sedately as on a matter of business, stepp’d +to pick it up, while the old gentleman chuckled. + +I was hot and asham’d, and a score of bitter words sprang to my +tongue-tip, when the Frenchman, as he rose from stooping, caught my eye, +and beckon’d me across to him. + +He was white as death, and pointed to the hilt of my sword and the +demi-bear engrav’d thereon. + +“He is dead,” I whisper’d: “hush!—turn your face aside—killed by those +same dogs that are now below.” + +I heard a sob in the true fellow’s throat. But on the instant it was +drown’d by the sound of a door opening and the tramp of feet on the +stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD. + + +By the sound of their steps I guess’d one or two of these dozen rascals +to be pretty far gone in drink, and afterward found this to be the case. +I look’d round. Sir Deakin had pick’d up the lamp and was mixing his +bowl of punch, humming to himself without the least concern—— + + “Vivre en tout cas + C’est le grand soulas”— + +with a glance at his daughter’s face, that was white to the lips, but +firmly set. + +“Hand me the nutmeg yonder,” he said, and then, “why, daughter, what’s +this?—a trembling hand?” + +And all the while the footsteps were coming up. + +There was a loud knock on the door. + +“Come in!” call’d Sir Deakin. + +At this, Jacques, who stood ready for battle by the entrance, wheeled +round, shot a look at his master, and dropping his point, made a sign to +me to do the same. The door was thrust rudely open, and Captain Settle, +his hat cock’d over one eye, and sham drunkenness in his gait, lurched +into the room, with the whole villainous crew behind him, huddled on the +threshold. Jacques and I stepp’d quietly back, so as to cover the girl. + +[Illustration: The door was thrust rudely open.—Page 88.] + +“Would you mind waiting a moment?” inquir’d Sir Deakin, without looking +up, but rubbing the nutmeg calmly up and down the grater: “a fraction +too much, and the whole punch will be spoil’d.” + +It took the Captain aback, and he came to a stand, eyeing us, who +look’d back at him without saying a word. And this discomposed him still +further. + +There was a minute during which the two parties could hear each other’s +breathing. Sir Deakin set down the nutmeg, wiped his thin white fingers +on a napkin, and address’d the Captain sweetly— + +“Before asking your business, sir, I would beg you and your company to +taste this liquor, which, in the court of France”—the old gentleman +took a sip from the mixing ladle—“has had the extreme honor to be +pronounced divine.” He smack’d his lips, and rising to his feet, let +his right hand rest on the silver foot of the lamp as he bowed to the +Captain. + +Captain Settle’s bravado was plainly oozing away before this polite +audacity: and seeing Sir Deakin taste the punch, he pull’d off his cap +in a shamefaced manner and sat down by the table with a word of thanks. + +“Come in, sirs—come in!” call’d the old gentleman; “and follow your +friend’s example. ’Twill be a compliment to make me mix another bowl +when this is finish’d.” He stepped around the table to welcome them, +still resting his hand on the lamp, as if for steadiness. I saw his eye +twinkle as they shuffled in and stood around the chair where the Captain +was seated. + +“Jacques, bring glasses from the cupboard yonder! And, Delia, fetch up +some chairs for our guests—no, sirs, pray do not move!” + +He had waved his hand lightly to the door as he turned to us: and in +an instant the intention as well as the bright success of this comedy +flash’d upon me. There was now no one between us and the stairs, and +as for Sir Deakin himself, he had already taken the step of putting the +table’s width between him and his guests. + +I touch’d the girl’s arm, and we made as if to fetch a couple of chairs +that stood against the wainscot by the door. As we did so, Sir Deakin +push’d the punch bowl forward under the Captain’s nose. + +“Smell, sir,” he cried airily, “and report to your friends on the +foretaste.” + +Settle’s nose hung over the steaming compound. With a swift pass of +the hand, the old gentleman caught up the lamp and had shaken a drop of +burning oil into the bowl. A great blaze leap’d to the ceiling. There +was a howl—a scream of pain; and as I push’d Mistress Delia through the +doorway and out to the head of the stairs, I caught a backward glimpse +of Sir Deakin rushing after us, with one of the stoutest among the +robbers at his heels. + +“Downstairs, for your life!” I whisper’d to the girl, and turning, as +her father tumbled past me, let his pursuer run on my sword, as on +a spit. At the same instant, another blade pass’d through the fellow +transversely, and Jacques stood beside me, with his back to the lintel. + +As we pull’d our swords out and the man dropp’d, I had a brief view into +the room, where now the blazing liquid ran off the table in a stream. +Settle, stamping with agony, had his palms press’d against his scorch’d +eyelids. The fat landlord, in trying to beat out the flames, had +increased them by upsetting two bottles of aqua vitae, and was dancing +about with three fingers in his mouth. The rest stood for the most part +dumbfounder’d: but Black Dick had his pistol lifted. + +Jacques and I sprang out for the landing and round the doorway. Between +the flash and the report I felt a sudden scrape, as of a red-hot wire, +across my left thigh and just above the knee. + +“Tenez, camarade,” said Jacques’ voice in my ear; “a moi la porte—a +vous le maitre, la-bas:” and he pointed down the staircase, where, by +the glare of the conflagration that beat past us, I saw the figures of +Sir Deakin and his daughter standing. + +“But how can you keep the door against a dozen?” + +The Frenchman shrugg’d his shoulders with a smile— + +“Mais-comme ca!” + +For at this moment came a rush of footsteps within the room. I saw a fat +paunch thrusting past us, a quiet pass of steel, and the landlord was +wallowing on his face across the threshold. Jacques’ teeth snapp’d +together as he stood ready for another victim: and as the fellows within +the room tumbled back, he motion’d me to leave him. + +I sprang from his side, and catching the rail of the staircase, reach’d +the foot in a couple of bounds. + +“Hurry!” I cried, and caught the old baronet by the hand. His daughter +took the other, and between us we hurried him across the passage for the +kitchen door. + +Within, the chambermaid was on her knees by the settle, her face and +apron of the same hue. I saw she was incapable of helping, and hasten’d +across the stone floor, and out toward the back entrance. + +A stream of icy wind blew in our faces as we stepp’d over the threshold. +The girl and I bent our heads to it, and stumbling, tripping, and +panting, pull’d Sir Deakin with us out into the cold air. + +The yard was no longer dark. In the room above someone had push’d the +casement open, letting in the wind: and by this ’twas very evident the +room was on fire. Indeed, the curtains had caught, and as we ran, a +pennon of flame shot out over our heads, licking the thatch. In the +glare of it the outbuildings and the yard gate stood clearly out from +the night. I heard the trampling of feet, the sound of Settle’s voice +shouting an order, and then a dismal yell and clash of steel as we flung +open the gate. + +“Jacques!” scream’d the old gentleman: “my poor Jacques! Those dogs will +mangle him with their cut and thrust—” + +’Twas very singular and sad, but as if in answer to Sir Deakin’s cry, we +heard the brave fellow’s voice; and a famous shout it must have been to +reach us over the roaring of the flames— + +“Mon maitre-mon maitre!” he call’d twice, and then “Sauve toi!” in a +fainter voice, yet clear. And after that only a racket of shouts and +outcries reach’d us. Without doubt the villains had overpower’d and +slain this brave servant. In spite of our peril (for they would be after +us at once), ’twas all we could do to drag the old man from the gate and +up the road: and as he went he wept like a child. + +After about fifty yards, we turn’d in at a gate, and began to cut across +a field: for I hop’d thus not only to baffle pursuit for a while, but +also to gain the wood that we saw dimly ahead. It reach’d to the top of +the hill, and I knew not how far beyond: and as I was reflecting that +there lay our chance of safety, I heard the inn door below burst open +with loud cries, and the sound of footsteps running up the road after +us. + +Moreover, to complete our fix, the clouds that had been scurrying across +the moon’s face, now for a minute left a clear interval of sky about +her: so that right in our course there lay a great patch brilliantly +lit, whereon our figures could be spied at once by anyone glancing into +the field. Also, it grew evident that Sir Deakin’s late agility was but +a short and sudden triumph of will over body: for his poor crooked legs +began to trail and lag sadly. So turning sharp about, we struck for the +hedge’s shadow, and there pull’d him down in a dry ditch, and lay with +a hand on his mouth to stifle his ejaculations, while we ourselves held +our breathing. + +The runners came up the road, pausing for a moment by the gate. I heard +it creak, and saw two or three dark forms enter the field—the remainder +tearing on up the road with a great clatter of boots. + +“Alas, my poor Jacques!” moan’d Sir Deakin: “and to be butcher’d so, +that never in his days kill’d a man but as if he lov’d him!” + +“Sir,” I whisper’d harshly, “if you keep this noise I must gag you.” And +with that he was silent for awhile. + +There was a thick tangle of brambles in the ditch where we lay: and to +this we owe our lives. For one of the men, coming our way, pass’d within +two yards of us, with the flat of his sword beating the growth over our +heads. + +“Reu-ben! Reuben Gedges!” call’d a voice by the gate. + +The fellow turn’d; and peeping between the bramble twigs, I saw the +moonlight glittering on his blade. A narrow, light-hair’d man he was, +with a weak chin: and since then I have paid him out for the fright he +gave us. + +“What’s the coil?” he shouted back. + +“The stable roofs ablaze—for the Lord’s sake come and save the hosses!” + +He strode back, and in a minute the field was clear. Creeping out with +caution, I grew aware of two mournful facts: first, that the stable was +indeed afire, as I perceiv’d by standing on tiptoe and looking over the +hedge; and second, that my knee was hurt by Black Dick’s bullet. The +muscles had stiffened while we were crouching, and now pain’d me badly. +Yet I kept it to myself as we started off again to run. + +But at the stile that, at the top of the field, led into the woods, I +pull’d up— + +“Sorry I am to say it, but you must go on without me.” + +“O—oh!” cried the girl. + +“’Tis for your safety. See, I leave a trail of blood behind me, so that +when day rises they will track us easily.” + +And sure enough, even by the moon, ’twas easy to trace the dark spots +on the grass and earth beside the stile. My left boot, too, was full of +blood. + +She was silent for awhile. Down in the valley we could hear the screams +of the poor horses. The light of the flames lit up the pine trunks about +us to a bright scarlet. + +“Sir, you hold our gratitude cheaply.” + +She unwound the kerchief from her neck, and making me sit on the stile, +bound up my knee skillfully, twisting a short stick in the bandage to +stop the bleeding. + +I thank’d her, and we hurried on into the depths of the wood, treading +silently on the deep carpet of pine needles. The ground rose steeply +all the way: and all the way, tho’ the light grew feebler, the roar and +outcries in the valley follow’d us. + +Toward the hill’s summit the trees were sparser. Looking upward, I saw +that the sky had grown thickly overcast. We cross’d the ridge, and after +a minute or so were in thick cover again. + +’Twas here that Sir Deakin’s strength gave out. Almost without warning, +he sank down between our hands, and in a second was taken with that +hateful cough, that once already this night had frightened me for his +life. + +“Ah, ah!” he groaned, between the spasms, “I’m not fit—I’m not fit for +it!” and was taken again, and roll’d about barking, so that I fear’d the +sound would bring all Settle’s gang on our heels. “I’m not fit for it!” + he repeated, as the cough left him, and he lay back helpless, among the +pine needles. + +Now, I understood his words to bear on his unfitness for death, and +judg’d them very decent and properly spoken: and took occasion to hint +this in my attempts to console him. + +“Why, bless the boy!” he cried, sitting up and staring, “for what d’ye +think I’m unsuited?” + +“Why, to die, sir—to be sure!” + +“Holy Mother!” he regarded me with surprise, contempt and pity, all +together: “was ever such a dunderhead! If ever man were fit to die, I am +he—and that’s just my reasonable complaint. Heart alive! ’tis unfit to +_live_ I am, tied to this absurd body!” + +I suppose my attitude express’d my lack of comprehension, for he lifted +a finger and went on— + +“Tell me—can you eat beef, and drink beer, and enjoy them?” + +“Why, yes.” + +“And fight—hey? and kiss a pretty girl, and be glad you’ve done it? +Dear, dear, how I do hate a fool and a fool’s pity! Lift me up and carry +me a step. This night’s work has kill’d me: I feel it in my lungs. ’Tis +a pity, too; for I was just beginning to enjoy it.” + +I lifted him as I would a babe, and off we set again, my teeth shutting +tight on the pain of my hurt. And presently, coming to a little dingle, +about half a mile down the hillside, well hid with dead bracken and +blackberry bushes, I consulted with the girl. The place was well +shelter’d from the wind that rock’d the treetops, and I fear’d to go +much further, for we might come on open country at any moment and so +double our peril. It seem’d best, therefore, to lay the old gentleman +snugly in the bottom of this dingle and wait for day. And with my +buff-coat, and a heap of dried leaves, I made him fairly easy, reserving +my cloak to wrap about Mistress Delia’s fair neck and shoulders. But +against this at first she protested. + +“For how are you to manage?” she ask’d. + +“I shall tramp up and down, and keep watch,” answer’d I, strewing a +couch for her beside her father: “and ’tis but fair exchange for the +kerchief you gave me from your own throat.” + +At last I persuaded her, and she crept close to her father, and under +the edge of the buff-coat for warmth. There was abundance of dry bracken +in the dingle, and with this and some handfuls of pine needles, I +cover’d them over, and left them to find what sleep they might. + +For two hours and more after this, I hobbled to and fro near them, as +well as my wound would allow, looking up at the sky through the pine +tops, and listening to the sobbing of the wind. Now and then I would +swing my arms for warmth, and breathe on my fingers, that were sorely +benumb’d; and all the while kept my ears on the alert, but heard +nothing. + +’Twas, as I said, something over two hours after, that I felt a soft +cold touch, and then another, like kisses on my forehead. I put up my +hand, and looked up again at the sky. As I did so, the girl gave a long +sigh, and awoke from her doze— + +“Sure, I must have dropp’d asleep,” she said, opening her eyes, and +spying my shadow above her: “has aught happened?” + +“Aye,” replied I, “something is happening that will wipe out our traces +and my bloody track.” + +“And what is that?” + +“Snow: see, ’tis falling fast.” + +She bent over, and listen’d to her father’s breathing. + +“’Twill kill him,” she said simply. + +I pull’d some more fronds of the bracken to cover them both. She thank’d +me, and offer’d to relieve me in my watch: which I refus’d. And indeed, +by lying down I should have caught my death, very likely. + +The big flakes drifted down between the pines: till, as the moon paled, +the ground about me was carpeted all in white, with the foliage black +as ink above it. Time after time, as I tramp’d to and fro, I paus’d to +brush the fresh-forming heap from the sleepers’ coverlet, and shake +it gently from the tresses of the girl’s hair. The old man’s face was +covered completely by the buff-coat: but his breathing was calm and +regular as any child’s. + +Day dawn’d. Awaking Mistress Delia, I ask’d her to keep watch for a +time, while I went off to explore. She crept out from her bed with a +little shiver of disgust. + +“Run about,” I advis’d, “and keep the blood stirring.” + +She nodded: and looking back, as I strode down the hill, I saw her +moving about quickly, swinging her arms, and only pausing to wave a hand +to me for goodspeed. + +* * * * * + +’Twas an hour before I return’d: and plenty I had to tell. Only at the +entrance to the dingle the words failed from off my tongue. The old +gentleman lay as he had lain throughout the night. But the bracken had +been toss’d aside, and the girl was kneeling over him. I drew near, my +step not arousing her. Sir Deakin’s face was pale and calm: but on the +snow that had gather’d by his head, lay a red streak of blood. ’Twas +from his lungs, and he was quite dead. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +I FIND A COMRADE. + + +But I must go back a little and tell you what befell in my expedition. + +I had scarce trudged out of sight of my friends, down the hill, when +it struck me that my footprints in the snow were in the last degree +dangerous to them, and might lead Settle and his crew straight to the +dingle. Here was a fix. I stood for some minutes nonpluss’d, when above +the stillness of the wood (for the wind had dropp’d) a faint sound as of +running water caught my ear, and help’d me to an idea. + +The sound seem’d to come from my left. Turning aside I made across the +hill toward it, and after two hundred paces or so came on a tiny +brook, not two feet across, that gush’d down the slope with a quite +considerable chatter and impatience. The bed of it was mainly earth, +with here and there a large stone or root to catch the toe: so that, +as I stepped into the water and began to thread my way down between the +banks of snow, ’twas necessary to look carefully to my steps. + +Here and there the brook fetch’d a leap down a sharper declivity, or +shot over a hanging stone: but, save for the wetting I took in these +places, my progress was easy enough. I must have waded in this manner +for half a mile, keeping the least possible noise, when at an angle +ahead I spied a clearing among the pines, and to the right of the +stream, on the very verge, a hut of logs standing, with a wood rick +behind it. + +’Twas a low building, but somewhat long, and I guess’d it to be, in +summer time, a habitation for the woodcutters. But what surpris’d me +was to hear a dull, moaning noise, very regular and disquieting, +that sounded from the interior of the hut. I listen’d, and hit on the +explication. ’Twas the sound of snoring. + +Drawing nearer with caution, I noticed, in that end of the hut which +stood over the stream, a gap, or window hole. The sound issued through +this like the whirring of a dozen looms. “He must be an astonishing +fellow,” thought I, “that can snore in this fashion. I’ll have a peep +before I wake him.” I waded down till I stood under the sill, put both +hands upon it, and pulling myself up quiet as a mouse, stuck my face in +at the window—and then very nearly sat back into the brook for fright. + +For I had gazed straight down into the upturn’d faces of Captain Settle +and his gang. + +How long I stood there, with the water rushing past my ankles and my +body turning from cold to hot, and back again, I cannot tell you. But +’twas until, hearing no pause in the sleepers’ chorus, I found courage +for another peep: and that must have been some time. + +There were but six rascals beside the Captain (so that Jacques must have +died hard, thought I), and such a raffle of arms and legs and swollen +up-turn’d faces as they made I defy you to picture. For they were pack’d +close as herrings; and the hut was fill’d up with their horses, ready +saddled, and rubbing shoulder to loin, so narrow was the room. It needed +the open window to give them air: and even so, ’twas not over-fresh +inside. + +I had no mind to stay: but before leaving found myself in the way of +playing these villains a pretty trick. To right and left of the window, +above their heads, extended two rude shelves that now were heap’d with +what I conjectured to be the spoils of the larder of the “Three Cups.” + Holding my breath and thrusting my head and shoulders into the room, I +ran my hand along and was quickly possess’d of a boil’d ham, two capons, +a loaf, the half of a cold pie, and a basket holding three dozen eggs. +All these prizes I filched one by one, with infinite caution. + +I was gently pulling the basket through the window hole, when I heard +one of the crew yawn and stretch himself in his sleep. So, determining +to risk no more, I quietly pack’d the basket, slung it on my right arm, +and with the ham grasp’d by the knuckle in my left, made my way up the +stream. + +’Twas thus laden that I enter’d the dingle, and came on the sad sight +therein. I set down the ham as a thing to be asham’d of, and bar’d my +head. The girl lifted her face, and turning, all white and tragical, saw +me. + +“My father is dead, sir.” + +I stoop’d and pil’d a heap of fresh snow over the blood stains. There +was no intent in this but to hide the pity that chok’d me. She had still +to hear about her brother, Anthony. Turning, as by a sudden thought, I +took her hand. She look’d into my eyes, and her own filled with tears. +’Twas the human touch that loosen’d their flow, I think: and sinking +down again beside her father, she wept her fill. + +“Mistress Killigrew,” I said, as soon as the first violence of her tears +was abated, “I have still some news that is ill hearing. Your enemies +are encamp’d in the woods, about a half mile below this”—and with that +I told my story. + +“They have done their worst, sir.” + +“No.” + +She looked at me with a question on her lip. + +Said I, “you must believe me yet a short while without questioning.” + +Considering for a moment, she nodded. “You have a right, sir, to be +trusted, tho’ I know not so much as your name. Then we must stay close +in hiding?” she added very sensibly, tho’ with the last word her voice +trail’d off, and she began again to weep. + +But in time, having cover’d the dead baronet’s body with sprays of the +wither’d bracken, I drew her to a little distance and prevail’d on +her to nibble a crust of the loaf. Now, all this while, it must be +remembered, I was in my shirt sleeves, and the weather bitter cold. +Which at length her sorrow allow’d her to notice. + +“Why, you are shivering, sore!” she said, and running, drew my buff-coat +from her father’s body, and held it out to me. + +“Indeed,” I answer’d, “I was thinking of another expedition to warm my +blood.” And promising to be back in half an hour, I follow’d down my +former tracks toward the stream. + +Within twenty minutes I was back, running and well-nigh shouting with +joy. + +“Come!” I cried to her, “come and see for yourself!” + +What had happen’d was this:—Wading cautiously down the brook, I had +cause suddenly to prick up my ears and come to a halt. ’Twas the muffled +tramp of hoofs that I heard, and creeping a bit further, I caught a +glimpse, beyond the hut, of a horse and rider disappearing down the +woods. He was the last of the party, as I guess’d from the sound of +voices and jingling of bits further down the slope. Advancing on the hut +with more boldness, I found it deserted. I scrambled up on the bank and +round to the entrance. The snow before it was trampled and sullied by +the footmarks of men and horses: and as I noted this, came Settle’s +voice calling up the slope—— + +“Jerry—Jerry Toy!” + +A nearer voice hail’d in answer. + +“Where’s Reuben?” + +“Coming, Captain—close behind!” + +“Curse him for a loitering idiot! We’ve wasted time enough, as ’tis,” + called back the Captain. “How in thunder is a man to find the road out +of this cursed wood?” + +“Straight on, Cap’n—you can’t miss it,” shouted another voice, not two +gunshots below. + +A volcano of oaths pour’d up from Settle. I did not wait for the end of +them: but ran back for Mistress Delia. + +Together we descended to the hut. By this time the voices had faded away +in distance. Yet to make sure that the rascals had really departed, we +follow’d their tracks for some way, beside the stream; and suddenly came +to a halt with cries of joyful surprise. + +The brook had led us to a point where, over a stony fall veil’d with +brown bracken, it plunged into a narrow ravine. Standing on the lip, +where the water took a smoother glide before leaping, we saw the line +of the ravine mark’d by a rift in the pines, and through this a slice +of the country that lay below. ’Twas a level plain, well watered, and +dotted here and there with houses. A range of wooded hills clos’d the +view, and toward them a broad road wound gently, till the eye lost it at +their base. All this was plain enough, in spite of the snow that cover’d +the landscape. For the sun had burst out above, and the few flakes that +still fell looked black against his brilliance and the dazzling country +below. + +But what caus’d our joy was to see, along the road, a small cavalcade +moving away from us, with many bright glances of light and color, as +their steel caps and sashes took the sunshine—a pretty sight, and the +prettier because it meant our present deliverance. + +The girl beside me gave a cry of delight, then sigh’d; and after a +minute began to walk back toward the hut: where I left her, and ran up +hill for the basket and ham. On my return, I found her examining a +heap of rusty tools that, it seem’d, she had found on a shelf of the +building. ’Twas no light help to the good fellowship that afterward +united us, that from the first I could read her thoughts often without +words; and for this reason, that her eyes were as candid as the noonday. + +So now I answer’d her aloud— + +“This afternoon we may venture down to the plain, where no doubt we +shall find a clergyman to sell us a patch of holy ground—” + +“Holy ground?” She look’d at me awhile and shook her head. “I am not of +your religion,” she said. + +“And your father?” + +“I think no man ever discovered my father’s religion. Perhaps there was +none to discover: but he was no bad father” she steadied her voice and +went on:—“He would prefer the hillside to your ‘holy ground.’” + +So, an hour later, I delv’d his grave in the frosty earth, close by the +spot where he lay. Somehow, I shiver’d all the while, and had a cruel +shooting pain in my wound that was like to have mastered me before the +task was ended. But I managed to lower the body softly into the hole +and to cover it reverently from sight: and afterward stood leaning on +my spade and feeling very light in the head, while the girl knelt and +pray’d for her father’s soul. + +And the picture of her as she knelt is the last I remember, till I +open’d my eyes, and was amazed to find myself on my back, and staring up +at darkness. + +“What has happen’d?” + +“I think you are very ill,” said a voice: “can you lean on me, and reach +the hut?” + +“Why, yes: that is, I think so. Why is everything dark?” + +“The sun has been down for hours. You have been in a swoon first, and +then talk’d—oh, such nonsense! Shame on me, to let you catch this +chill!” + +She help’d me to my feet and steadied me: and how we reached the hut I +cannot tell you. It took more than one weary hour, as I now know; but, +at the time, hours and minutes were one to me. + +In that hut I lay four nights and four days, between ague fit and fever. +And that is all the account I can give of the time, save that, on the +second day, the girl left me alone in the hut and descended to the +plain, where, after asking at many cottages for a physician, she was +forced to be content with an old woman reputed to be amazingly well +skill’d in herbs and medicines; whom, after a day’s trial, she turn’d +out of doors. On the fourth day, fearing for my life, she made another +descent, and coming to a wayside tavern, purchased a pint of aqua vitae, +carried it back, and mix’d a potion that threw me into a profuse sweat. +The same evening I sat up, a sound man. + +Indeed, so thoroughly was I recover’d that, waking early next morning, +and finding my sweet nurse asleep from sheer weariness, in a corner of +the hut, I stagger’d up from my bed of dried bracken, and out into the +pure air. Rare it was to stand and drink it in like wine. A footstep +arous’d me. ’Twas Mistress Delia: and turning, I held out my hand. + +“Now this is famous,” said she: “a day or two will see you as good a man +as ever.” + +“A day or two? To-morrow at latest, I shall make trial to start.” I +noted a sudden change on her face, and added: “Indeed, you must hear +my reasons before setting me down for an ingrate;” and told her of the +King’s letter that I carried. “I hoped that for a while our ways might +lie together,” said I; and broke off, for she was looking me earnestly +in the face. + +“Sir, as you know, my brother Anthony was to have met me—nay, for +pity’s sake, turn not your face away! I have guess’d—the sword you +carry—I mark’d it. Sir, be merciful, and tell me!” + +I led her a little aside to the foot of a tall pine; and there, tho’ +it rung my heart, told her all; and left her to wrestle with this final +sorrow. She was so tender a thing to be stricken thus, that I who had +dealt the blow crept back to the hut, covering my eyes. In an hour’s +time I look’d out. She was gone. + +At nightfall she return’d, white with grief and fatigue; yet I was glad +to see her eyes red and swol’n with weeping. Throughout our supper +she kept silence; but when ’twas over, look’d up and spoke in a steady +tone—— + +“Sir, I have a favor to ask, and must risk being held importunate—” + +“From you to me,” I put in, “all talk of favors had best be dropp’d.” + +“No—listen. If ever it befel you to lose father or mother or dearly +loved friend, you will know how the anguish stuns—Oh sir! to-day the +sun seem’d fallen out of heaven, and I a blind creature left groping +in the void. Indeed, sir, ’tis no wonder: I had a father, brother, +and servant ready to die for me—three hearts to love and lean on: and +to-day they are gone.” + +I would have spoken, but she held up a hand. + +“Now when you spoke of Anthony—a dear lad!—I lay for some time dazed +with grief. By little and little, as the truth grew plainer, the pain +grew also past bearing. I stood up and stagger’d into the woods to +escape it. I went fast and straight, heeding nothing, for at first my +senses were all confus’d: but in a while the walking clear’d my wits, +and I could think: and thinking, I could weep: and having wept, could +fortify my heart. Here is the upshot, sir—tho’ ’tis held immodest for a +maid to ask even far less of a man. We are both bound for Cornwall—you +on an honorable mission, I for my father’s estate of Gleys, wherefrom +(as your tale proves) some unseen hands are thrusting me. Alike we carry +our lives in our hands. You must go forward: I may not go back. For from +a King who cannot right his own affairs there is little hope; and in +Cornwall I have surer friends than he. Therefore take me, sir—take +me for a comrade! Am I sad? Do you fear a weary journey? I will +smile—laugh—sing—put sorrow behind me. I will contrive a thousand +ways to cheat the milestones. At the first hint of tears, discard me, +and go your way with no prick of conscience. Only try me—oh, the shame +of speaking thus!” + +Her voice had grown more rapid toward the close: and now, breaking off, +she put both hands to cover her face, that was hot with blushes. I went +over and took them in mine: + +“You have made me the blithest man alive,” said I. + +She drew back a pace with a frighten’d look, and would have pull’d her +hands away. + +“Because,” I went on quickly, “you have paid me this high compliment, to +trust me. Proud was I to listen to you; and merrily will the miles pass +with you for comrade. And so I say—Mistress Killigrew, take me for your +servant.” + +To my extreme discomposure, as I dropp’d her hands, her eyes were +twinkling with laughter. + +“Dear now; I see a dull prospect ahead if we use these long titles!” + +“But—” + +“Indeed, sir, please yourself. Only as I intend to call you ‘Jack’ +perhaps ‘Delia’ will be more of a piece than ‘Mistress Killigrew.’” She +dropp’d me a mock curtsey. “And now, Jack, be a good boy, and hitch +me this quilt across the hut. I bought it yesterday at a cottage below +here——” + +She ended the sentence with the prettiest blush imaginable; and so, +having fix’d her screen, we shook hands on our comradeship, and wish’d +each other good night. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +I LOSE THE KING’S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL. + + +Almost before daylight we were afoot, and the first ray of cold sunshine +found us stepping from the woods into the plain, where now the snow was +vanished and a glistening coat of rime spread over all things. Down here +the pines gave way to bare elms and poplars, thickly dotted, and among +them the twisting smoke of farmstead and cottage, here and there, and +the morning stir of kitchen and stable very musical in the crisp air. + +Delia stepped along beside me, humming an air or breaking off to +chatter. Meeting us, you would have said we had never a care. The road +went stretching away to the northwest and the hills against the sky +there; whither beyond, we neither knew nor (being both young, and one, +by this time, pretty deep in love) did greatly care. Yet meeting with a +waggoner and his team, we drew up to enquire. + +The waggoner had a shock of whitish hair and a face purple-red above, +by reason of the cold, and purple-black below, for lack of a barber. He +purs’d up his mouth and look’d us slowly up and down. + +“Come,” said I, “you are not deaf, I hope, nor dumb.” + +“Send I may niver!” the fellow ejaculated, slowly and with +contemplation: “’tis an unseemly sight, yet tickling to the mirthfully +minded. Haw—haw!” He check’d his laughter suddenly and stood like a +stone image beside his horses. + +“Good sir,” said Delia, laying a hand on my arm (for I was growing +nettled), “your mirth is a riddle: but tell us our way and you are free +to laugh.” + +“Oh, Scarlet—Scarlet!” answer’d he: “and to me, that am a man o’ +blushes from my cradle!” + +Convinced by this that the fellow must be an idiot, I told him so, and +left him staring after us; nor heard the sound of his horses moving on +again for many minutes. + +After this we met about a dozen on the road, and all paus’d to stare. +But from one—an old woman—we learn’d we were walking toward Marlboro’, +and about noon were over the hills and looking into the valley beyond. + +’Twas very like the other vale; only a pleasant stream wound along the +bottom, by the banks of which the road took us. Here, by a bridge, we +came to an inn bearing the sign of “The Broad Face,” and entered: for +Captain Settle’s stock of victuals was now done. A sour-fac’d woman met +us at the door. + +“Do you stay here,” Delia advis’d me, “and drink a mug of beer while I +bargain with the hostess for fresh food.” She follow’d the sour-fac’d +woman into the house. + +But out she comes presently with her cheeks flaming and a pair of +bright eyes. “Come!” she commanded, “come at once!” Setting down my +half emptied mug, I went after her across the bridge and up the road, +wondering. In this way we must have walk’d for a mile or more before she +turn’d and stamp’d her little foot— + +“Horrible!” she cried. “Horrible—wicked—shameful! Ugh!” There were +tears in her eyes. + +“What is shameful?” + +She made no reply, but walk’d on again quickly. + +“I am getting hungry, for my part,” sigh’d I, after a little. + +“Then you must starve!” + +“Oh!” + +She wheel’d round again. + +“Jack, this will never do. If you are to have a comrade, let it be a +boy.” + +“Now, I am very passably content as things are.” + +“Nonsense: at Marlboro’, I mean, you must buy me a suit of boy’s +clothes. What are you hearkening to?” + +“I thought I heard the noise of guns—or is it thunder?” + +“Dear Jack, don’t say ’tis thunder! I do mortally fear thunder—and +mice.” + +“’Twouldn’t be thunder at this time of year. No, ’tis guns firing.” + +“Where?—not that I mind guns.” + +“Ahead of us.” + +On the far side of the valley we enter’d a wood, thinking by this to +shorten our way: for the road here took a long bend to eastward. Now, at +first this wood seem’d of no considerable size, but thicken’d and spread +as we advanced. ’Twas only, however, after passing the ridge, and when +daylight began to fail us, that I became alarm’d. For the wood grew +denser, with a tangle of paths criss-crossing amid the undergrowth. And +just then came the low mutter of cannon again, shaking the earth. We +began to run forward, tripping in the gloom over brambles, and stumbling +into holes. + +For a mile or so this lasted: and then, without warning, I heard a sound +behind me, and look’d back, to find Delia sunk upon the ground. + +“Jack, here’s a to-do!” + +“What’s amiss?” + +“Why, I am going to swoon!” + +The words were scarce out, when there sounded a crackling and snapping +of twigs ahead, and two figures came rushing toward us—a man and a +woman. The man carried an infant in his arms: and tho’ I call’d on them +to stop, the pair ran by us with no more notice than if we had been +stones. Only the woman cried, “Dear Lord, save us!” and wrung her hands +as she pass’d out of sight. + +“This is strange conduct,” thought I: but peering down, saw that Delia’s +face was white and motionless. She had swoon’d, indeed, from weariness +and hunger. So I took her in my arms and stumbled forward, hoping to +find the end of the wood soon. For now the rattle of artillery came +louder and incessant through the trees, and mingling with it, a +multitude of dull shouts and outcries. At first I was minded to run +after the man and woman, but on second thought, resolv’d to see the +danger before hiding from it. + +The trees, in a short while, grew sparser, and between the stems I +mark’d a ruddy light glowing. And then I came out on an open space upon +the hillside, with a dip of earth in front; and beyond, a long ridge +of pines standing up black, because of a red glare behind them; and +saw that this came not from any setting sun, but was the light of a +conflagration. + +The glare danced and quiver’d in the sky, as I cross’d the hollow. It +made even Delia’s white cheek seem rosy. Up amid the pines I clamor’d, +and along the ridge to where it broke off in a steep declivity. And lo! +in a minute I look’d down as ’twere into the infernal pit. + +There was a whole town burning below. And in the streets men were +fighting, as could be told by their shouts and the rattle and blaze of +musketry. For a garment of smoke lay over all and hid them: only the +turmoil beat up as from a furnace, and the flames of burning thatches, +and quick jets of firearms like lightning in a thundercloud. Great +sparks floated past us, and over the trees at our back. A hot blast +breath’d on our cheeks. Now and then you might hear a human shriek +distinct amid the din, and this spoke terribly to the heart. + +Now the town was Marlboro’, and the attacking force a body of royal +troops sent from Oxford to oust the garrison of the Parliament, which +they did this same night, with great slaughter, driving the rebels out +of the place, and back on the road to Bristol. Had we guess’d this, +much ill luck had been spared us; but we knew nought of it, nor whether +friends or foes were getting the better. So (Delia being by this time +recover’d a little) we determined to pass the night in the woods, and on +the morrow to give the place a wide berth. + +Retreating, then, to the hollow (that lay on the lee side of the ridge, +away from the north wind), I gather’d a pile of great stones, and spread +my cloak thereover for Delia. To sleep was impossible, even with the +will for it. For the tumult and fighting went on, and only died out +about an hour before dawn: and once or twice we were troubled to hear +the sound of people running on the ridge above. So we sat and talked in +low voices till dawn; and grew more desperately hunger’d than ever. + +With the chill of daybreak we started, meaning to get quit of the +neighborhood before any espied us; and fetch’d a compass to the south +without another look at Marlboro’. At the end of two hours, turning +northwest again, we came to some water meadows beside a tiny river (the +Kennet, as I think), and saw, some way beyond, a high road that cross’d +to our side (only the bridge was now broken down), and further yet, a +thick smoke curling up; but whence this came I could not see. Now we +had been avoiding all roads this morning, and hiding at every sound of +footsteps. But hunger was making us bold. I bade Delia crouch down +by the stream’s bank, where many alders grew, and set off toward this +column of smoke. + +By the spot where the road cross’d I noted that many men and horses had +lately pass’d hereby to westward, and, by their footmarks, at a great +speed. A little further, and I came on a broken musket flung against the +hedge, with a nauseous mess of blood and sandy hairs about the stock +of it; and just beyond was a dead horse, his legs sticking up like bent +poles across the road. ’Twas here that my blood went cold on a sudden, +to hear a dismal groaning not far ahead. I stood still, holding my +breath, and then ran forward again. + +The road took a twist that led me face to face with a small whitewashed +cottage, smear’d with black stains of burning. For seemingly it had been +fir’d in one or two places, only the flames had died out: and from the +back, where some out-building yet smoulder’d, rose the smoke that I +spied. But what brought me to a stand was to see the doorway all +crack’d and charr’d, and across it a soldier stretch’d—a green-coated +rebel—and quite dead. His face lay among the burn’d ruins of the door, +that had wofully singed his beard and hair. A stain of blood ran across +the door stone and into the road. + +I was gazing upon him and shuddering, when again I heard the groans. +They issued from the upper chamber of the cottage. I stepped over the +dead soldier and mounted the ladder that led upstairs. + +The upper room was but a loft. In it were two beds, whereof one was +empty. On the edge of the other sat up a boy of sixteen or thereabouts, +stark naked and moaning miserably. With one hand he seem’d trying to +cover a big wound that gaped in his chest: the other, as my head rose +over the ladder, he stretch’d out with all the fingers spread. And this +was his last effort. As I stumbled up, his fingers clos’d in a spasm of +pain; his hands dropp’d, and the body tumbled back on the bed, where it +lay with the legs dangling. + +The poor lad must have been stabb’d as he lay asleep. For by the bedside +I found his clothes neatly folded and without a speck of blood. They +were clean, though coarse; so thinking they would serve for Delia, I +took them, albeit with some scruples at robbing the dead, and covering +the body with a sheet, made my way downstairs. + +[Illustration: “Oh, Jack—they do not fit at all!”—Page 121.] + +Here, on a high shelf at the foot of the ladder, I discover’d a couple +of loaves and some milk, and also, lying hard by, a pair of shepherd’s +shears, which I took also, having a purpose for them. By this time, +being sick enough of the place, I was glad to make all speed back to +Delia. + +She was still waiting among the leafless alders, and clapp’d her hands +to see the two loaves under my arm. + +Said I, flinging down the clothes, and munching at my share of the +bread— + +“Here is the boy’s suit that you wish’d for.” + +“Oh, dear! ’tis not a very choice one.” Her face fell. + +“All the better for escaping notice.” + +“But—but I _like_ to be notic’d!” + +Nevertheless, when breakfast was done, she consented to try on the +clothes. I left her eyeing them doubtfully, and stroll’d away by the +river’s bank. In a while her voice call’d to me— + +“Oh, Jack—they do not fit at all!” + +“Why, ’tis admirable!” said I, returning, and scanning her. Now this was +a lie: but she took me more than ever, so pretty and comical she look’d +in the dress. + +“And I cannot walk a bit in them!” she pouted, strutting up and down. + +“Swing your arms more, and let them hang looser.” + +“And my hair. Oh, Jack, I have such beautiful hair!” + +“It must come off,” said I, pulling the shears out of my pocket. + +“And look at these huge boots!” + +Indeed, this was the main trouble, for I knew they would hurt her in +walking: yet she made more fuss about her hair, and only gave in when +I scolded her roundly. So I took the shears and clipp’d the chestnut +curls, one by one, while she cried for vexation; and took occasion of +her tears to smuggle the longest lock inside my doublet. + + * * * * * + +But, an hour after, she was laughing again, and had learned to cock the +poor country lad’s cap rakishly over one eye: and by evening was walking +with a swagger and longing (I know) to meet with folks. For, to spare +her the sight of the ruin’d cottage, I had taken her round through the +fields, and by every bypath that seem’d to lead westward. ’Twas safer to +journey thus; and all the way she practic’d a man’s carriage and airs, +and how to wink and whistle and swing a stick. And once, when she left +one of her shoes in a wet ditch, she said “d—n!” as natural as life: +and then— + +We jump’d over a hedge, plump into an outpost of rebels, as they sat +munching their supper. + +They were six in all, and must have been sitting like mice: for all I +know of it is this. I had climb’d the hedge first, and was helping +Delia over, when out of the ground, as it seem’d, a voice shriek’d, +“Run—run!—the King’s men are on us!” and then, my foot slipping, down +I went on to the shoulders of a thick-set man, and well-nigh broke his +neck as he turn’d to look up at me. + +At first, the whole six were for running, I believe. But seeing only +a lad stretch’d on his face, and a second on the hedge, they thought +better of it. Before I could scramble up, one pair of hands was screw’d +about my neck, another at my heels, and in a trice there we were +pinion’d. + +“Fetch the lantern, Zacchaeus.” + +’Twas quickly lit, and thrust into my face; and very foolish I must have +look’d. The fellows were all clad in green coats, much soil’d with mud +and powder. And they grinn’d in my face till I long’d to kick them. + +“Search the malignant!” cried one. “Question him,” call’d out another; +and forthwith began a long interrogatory concerning the movements of his +Majesty’s troops, from which, indeed, I learn’d much concerning the late +encounter: but of course could answer nought. ’Twas only natural they +should interpret this silence for obstinacy. + +“March ’em off to Captain Stubbs!” + +“Halloa!” shouted a pockmarked trooper, that had his hand thrust in on +my breast: “bring the lantern close here. What’s this?” + +’Twas, alas! the King’s letter: and I bit my lip while they cluster’d +round, turning the lantern’s yellow glare upon the superscription. + +“Lads, there’s promotion in this!” shouted the thick-set man I had +tumbled on (who, it seem’d, was the sergeant in the troop): “hand me the +letter, there! Zacchaeus Martin and Tom Pine—you two bide here on duty: +t’other three fall in about the prisoners—quick march!’ The wicked have +digged a pit—’” + +The rogue ended up with a tag from the Psalmist. + +We were march’d down the road for a mile or more, till we heard a loud +bawling, as of a man in much bodily pain, and soon came to a small +village, where, under a tavern lamp, by the door, was a man perch’d up +on a tub, and shouting forth portions of the Scripture to some twenty or +more green-coats assembled round. Our conductor pushed past these, and +enter’d the tavern. At a door to the left in the passage he halted, and +knocking once, thrust us inside. + +The room was bare and lit very dimly by two tallow candles, set in +bottles. Between these, on a deal table, lay a map outspread, and over +it a man was bending, who look’d up sharply at our entrance. + +He was thin, with a blue nose, and wore a green uniform like the rest: +only his carriage proved him a man of authority. + +This Captain Stubbs listened, you may be sure, with a bright’ning eye to +the sergeant’s story; and at the close fix’d an inquisitive gaze on the +pair of us, turning the King’s letter over and over in his hands. + +“How came this in your possession?” he ask’d at length. + +“That,” said I, “I must decline to tell.” + +He hesitated a moment; then, re-seating himself, broke the seal, spread +the letter upon the map, and read it slowly through. For the first time +I began heartily to hope that the paper contain’d nothing of moment. But +the man’s face was no index of this. He read it through twice, folded it +away in his breast, and turn’d to the sergeant— + + +“To-morrow at six in the morning we continue our march. Meanwhile keep +these fellows secure. I look to you for this.” + +The sergeant saluted and we were led out. That night we pass’d in +handcuffs, huddled with fifty soldiers in a hayloft of the inn and +hearkening to their curious talk, that was half composed of Holy Writ +and half of gibes at our expense. They were beaten men and, like all +such, found comfort in deriding the greater misfortunes of others. + +Before daylight the bugles began to sound, and we were led down to the +green before the tavern door, where already were close upon five hundred +gather’d, that had been billeted about the village and were now forming +in order of march—a soil’d, batter’d crew, with torn ensigns and little +heart in their movements. The sky began a cold drizzle as we set out, +and through this saddening whether we trudged all day, Delia and I being +kept well apart, she with the vanguard and I in the rear, seeing only +the winding column, the dejected heads bobbing in front as they bent to +the slanting rain, the cottagers that came out to stare as we pass’d; +and hearing but the hoarse words of command, the low mutterings of the +men, and always the monotonous _tramp-tramp_ through the slush and mire +of the roads. + +’Tis like a bad dream to me, and I will not dwell on it. That night +we pass’d at Chippenham—a small market town—and on the morrow went +tramping again through worse weather, but always amid the same sights +and sounds. There were moments when I thought to go mad, wrenching at my +cords till my wrists bled, yet with no hope to escape. But in time, by +good luck, my wits grew deaden’d to it all, and I march’d on with the +rest to a kind of lugubrious singsong that my brain supplied. For hours +I went thus, counting my steps, missing my reckoning, and beginning +again. + +Daylight was failing when the towers of Bristol grew clear out of the +leaden mist in front; and by five o’clock we halted outside the walls +and beside the ditch of the castle, waiting for the drawbridge to be let +down. Already a great crowd had gather’d about us, of those who had come +out to learn news of the defeat, which, the day before some fugitives +had carried to Bristol. To their questions, as to all else, I listen’d +like a man in a trance: and recall this only—that first I was shivering +out in the rain and soon after was standing beside Delia, under guard +of a dozen soldiers, and shaking with cold, beneath a gateway that led +between the two wards of the castle. And there, for an hour at least, we +kick’d our heels, until from the inner ward Captain Stubbs came striding +and commanded us to follow. + +Across the court we went in the rain, through a vaulted passage, and +passing a screen of carved oak found ourselves suddenly in a great hall, +near forty yards long (as I reckon it), and rafter’d with oak. At the +far end, around a great marble table, were some ten or more gentlemen +seated, who all with one accord turn’d their eyes upon us, as the +captain brought us forward. + +The table before them was litter’d with maps, warrants, and papers; and +some of the gentlemen had pens in their hands. But the one on whom my +eyes fastened was a tall, fair soldier that sat in the centre, and held +his Majesty’s letter, open, in his hand: who rose and bow’d to me as I +came near. + +“Sir,” he said, “the fortune of war having given you into our hands, you +will not refuse, I hope, to answer our questions.” + +“Sir, I have nought to tell,” answer’d I, bowing in return. + +With a delicate white hand he wav’d my words aside. He had a handsome, +irresolute mouth, and was, I could tell, of very different degree from +the merchants and lawyers beside him. + +“You act under orders from the—the—” + +“Anti-Christ,” put in a snappish little fellow on his right. + +“I do nothing of the sort,” said I. + +“Well, then, sir, from King Charles.” + +“I do not.” + +“Tush!” exclaim’d the snappish man, and then straightening himself +up—“That boy with you—that fellow disguis’d as a countryman—look at +his boots!—he’s a Papist spy!” + +“There, sir, you are wrong!” + +“I saw him—I’ll be sworn to his face—I saw him, a year back, at Douai, +helping at the mass! I never forget faces.” + +“Why, what nonsense!” cried I, and burst out laughing. + +“Don’t mock at me, sir!” he thunder’d, bringing down his fist on the +table. “I tell you the boy is a Papist!” He pointed furiously at Delia, +who, now laughing also, answer’d him very demurely— + +“Indeed, sir—” + +“I saw you, I say.” + +“You are bold to make so certain of a Papist—” + +“I saw you!” + +“That cannot even tell maid from man!” + +“What is meant by that?” asks the tall soldier, opening his eyes. + +“Why, simply this, sir: I am no boy at all, but a girl!” + +There was a minute, during which the little man went purple in the face, +and the rest star’d at Delia in blank astonishment. + +“Oh, Jack,” she whisper’d in my ear, “I am so very, very sorrow: but I +_cannot_ wear these hateful clothes much longer.” + +She fac’d the company with a rosy blush. + +“What say you to this?” ask’d Colonel Essex—for ’twas he—turning round +on the little man. + +“Say? What do I say? That the fellow is a Papist, too. I knew it from +the first, and this proves it!” + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +I BREAK OUT OF PRISON. + + +You are now to be ask’d to pass over the next four weeks in as many +minutes: as would I had done at the time! For I spent them in a bitter +cold cell in the main tower of Bristol keep, with a chair and a pallet +of straw for all my furniture, and nothing to stay my fast but the bread +and water that the jailer—a sour man, if ever there were one—brought +me twice a day. + +This keep lies in the northwest corner of the outer ward of the +castle—a mighty tall pile and strongly built, the walls (as the jailer +told me) being a full twenty-five feet thick near the foundations, tho’ +by time you ascended to the towers this thickness had dwindled to six +feet and no more. In shape ’twas a quadrilateral, a little shorter from +north to south than from east to west (in which latter direction it +measured sixty feet, about), and had four towers standing at the four +corners, whereof mine was five fathoms higher than the rest. + +Guess, then, how little I thought of escape, having but one window, a +hundred feet (I do believe) above the ground, and that so narrow that, +even without the iron bar across it, ’twould barely let my shoulders +pass. What concern’d me more was the cold that gnaw’d me continually +these winter nights, as I lay thinking of Delia (whom I had not seen +since our examination), or gazing out on the patch of frosty heaven +that was all my view. ’Twas thus I had heard Bristol bells ringing for +Christmas in the town below. + +Colonel Essex had been thrice to visit me, and always offer’d many +excuses for my treatment; but when he came to question me, why of course +I had nothing to tell, so that each visit but served to vex him more. +Clearly I was suspected to know a great deal beyond what appear’d in +the letter: and no doubt poor Anthony Killigrew had receiv’d some verbal +message from His Majesty which he lived not long enough to transmit to +me. As ’twas, I kept silence; and the Colonel in return would tell me +nothing of what had befallen Delia. + +One fine, frosty morning, then, when I had lain in this distress just +four weeks, the door of my cell open’d, and there appear’d a young +woman, not uncomely, bringing in my bread and water. She was the +jailer’s daughter, and wore a heavy bunch of keys at her girdle. + +“Oh, good morning!” said I: for till now her father only had visited me, +and this was a welcome change. + +Instead of answering cheerfully (as I look’d for), she gave a little nod +of the head, rather sorrowful, and answered:— + +“Father’s abed with the ague.” + +“Now you cannot expect me to be sorry.” + +“Nay,” she said; and I caught her looking at me with something like +compassion in her blue eyes, which mov’d me to cry out suddenly— + +“I think you are woman enough to like a pair of lovers.” + +“Oh, aye: but where’s t’other half of the pair?” + +“You’re right. The young gentlewoman that was brought hither with me—I +know not if she loves me: but this I do know—I would give my hand to +learn her whereabouts, and how she fares.” + +“Better eat thy loaf,” put in the girl very suddenly, setting down the +plate and pitcher. + +’Twas odd, but I seem’d to hear a sob in her voice. However, her back +was toward me as I glanc’d up. And next moment she was gone, locking the +iron door behind her. + +I turn’d from my breakfast with a sigh, having for the moment tasted +the hope to hear something of Delia. But in a while, feeling hungry, I +pick’d up the loaf beside me, and broke it in two. + +To my amaze, out dropp’d something that jingled on the stone floor. + +’Twas a small file: and examining the loaf again, I found a clasp-knife +also, and a strip of paper, neatly folded, hidden in the bread. + +“Deare Jack, + +“Colonel Essex, finding no good come of his interrogatories, hath set me +at large; tho’ I continue under his eye, to wit, with a dowager of his +acquaintance, a Mistress Finch. Wee dwell in a private house midway down +St. Thomas his street, in Redcliffe: and she hath put a dismal dress +upon me (Jack, ’tis _hideous_), but otherwise uses me not ill. But take +care of thyself, my deare friend: for tho’ the Colonel be a gentilman, +he is press’d by them about him, and at our last interview I noted a +mischief in his eye. Canst use this file?—(but take care: all the +gates I saw guarded with troopers to-day.) This by one who hath been +my friend: for whose sake tear the paper up. And beleeve your cordial, +loving comrade + +“D. K.” + +After reading this a dozen times, till I had it by heart, I tore the +letter into small pieces and hid them in my pocket. This done, I felt +lighter-hearted than for many a day, and (rather for employment than +with any farther view) began lazily to rub away at my window bar. The +file work’d well. By noon the bar was half sever’d, and I broke off to +whistle a tune. ’Twas— + + “Vivre en tout cas, + C’est le grand soulas—” + +and I broke off to hear the key turning in my lock. + +The jailer’s daughter enter’d with my second meal. Her eyes were red +with weeping. + +Said I, “Does your father beat you?” + +“He has, before now,” she replied: “but not to-day.” + +“Then why do you weep?” + +“Not for that.” + +“For what then?” + +“For you—oh, dear, dear! How shall I tell it? They are going to—to—” + She sat down on the chair, and sobb’d in her apron. + +“What is’t they are going to do?” + +“To—to—h-hang you.” + +“The devil! When?” + +“Tut-tut-to-morrow mo-horning!” + +I went suddenly very cold all over. There was silence for a moment, and +then I heard the noise of some one dropping a plank in the courtyard +below. + +“What’s that?” + +“The gug-gug—” + +“Gallows?” + +She nodded. + +“You are but a weak girl,” said I, meditating. + +“Aye: but there’s a dozen troopers on the landing below.” + +“Then, my dear, you must lock me up,” I decided gloomily, and fell to +whistling—— + + “Vivre en tout cas, + C’est le grand soulas—” + +A workman’s hammer in the court below chim’d in, beating out the tune, +and driving the moral home. I heard a low sob behind me. The jailer’s +daughter was going. + +“Lend me your bodkin, my dear, for a memento.” + +She pull’d it out and gave it to me. + +“Thank you, and now good-bye! Stop: here’s a kiss to take to my dear +mistress. They shan’t hang me, my dear.” + +The girl went out, sobbing, and lock’d the door after her. + +I sat down for a while, feeling doleful. For I found myself extremely +young to be hang’d. But soon the _whang—whang!_ of the hammer below +rous’d me. “Come,” I thought, “I’ll see what that rascal is doing, at +any rate,” and pulling the file from my pocket, began to attack the +window bar with a will. I had no need for silence, at this great height +above the ground: and besides, the hammering continued lustily. + +Daylight was closing as I finish’d my task and, pulling the two pieces +of the bar aside, thrust my head out at the window. + +Directly under me, and about twenty feet from the ground, I saw a beam +projecting, about six feet long, over a sort of doorway in the wall. +Under this beam, on a ladder, was a carpenter fellow at work, fortifying +it with two supporting timbers that rested on the sill of the doorway. +He was merry enough over the job, and paused every now and again to +fling a remark to a little group of soldiers that stood idling below, +where the fellow’s workbag and a great coil of rope rested by the +ladder’s foot. + +“Reckon, Sammy,” said one, pulling a long tobacco pipe from his mouth +and spitting, “’tis a long while since thy last job o’ the sort.” + +“Aye, lad: terrible disrepair this place has fall’n into. But send us a +cheerful heart, say I! Instead o’ the viper an’ owl, shall henceforward +be hangings of men an’ all manner o’ diversion.” + +I kept my head out of sight and listen’d. + +“What time doth ’a swing?” ask’d another of the soldiers. + +“I heard the Colonel give orders for nine o’clock to-morrow,” answer’d +the first soldier, spitting again. + +The clock over the barbican struck four: and in a minute was being +answer’d from tower after tower, down in the city. + +“Four o’clock!” cried the man on the ladder: “time to stop work, and +here goes for the last nail!” He drove it in and prepar’d to descend. + +“Hi!” shouted a soldier, “you’ve forgot the rope.” + +“That’ll wait till to-morrow. There’s a staple to drive in, too. I tell +you I’m dry, and want my beer.” + +He whipp’d his apron round his waist, and gathering up his nails, +went down the ladder. At the foot he pick’d up his bag, shoulder’d +the ladder, and loung’d away, leaving the coil of rope lying there. +Presently the soldiers saunter’d off also, and the court was empty. + +Now up to this moment I had but one idea of avoiding my fate, and that +was to kill myself. ’Twas to this end I had borrow’d the bodkin of the +maid. Afterward I had a notion of flinging myself from the window as +they came for me. But now, as I look’d down on that coil of rope lying +directly below, a prettier scheme struck me. I sat down on the floor of +my cell and pull’d off my boots and stockings. + +’Twas such a pretty plan that I got into a fever of impatience. Drawing +off a stocking and picking out the end of the yarn, I began to unravel +the knitting for dear life, until the whole lay, a heap of thread, on +the floor. I then serv’d the other in the same way: and at the end had +two lines, each pretty near four hundred yards in length: which now I +divided into eight lines of about a hundred yards each. + +With these I set to work, and by the end of twenty minutes had plaited +a rope—if rope, indeed, it could be called—weak to be sure, but long +enough to reach the ground with plenty to spare. Then, having bent my +bodkin to the form of a hook, I tied it to the end of my cord, weighted +it with a crown from my pocket, and clamber’d up to the window. I was +going to angle for the hangman’s rope. + +’Twas near dark by this; but I could just distinguish it on the paving +stones below, and looking about the court, saw that no one was astir. +I wriggled first my head, then a shoulder, through the opening, and let +the line run gently through my hand. There was still many yards left, +that could be paid out, when I heard my coin tinkle softly on the +pavement. + +Then began my difficulty. A dozen times I pull’d my hook across the coil +before it hitch’d; and then a full three score of times the rope slipped +away before I had rais’d it a dozen yards. My elbow was raw, almost, +with leaning on the sill, and I began to lose heart and head, when, to +my delight, the bodkin caught and held. It had fasten’d on a kink in +the rope, not far from the end. I began to pull up, hand over hand, +trembling all the while like a leaf. + +For I had two very reasonable fears. First, the rope might slip away and +tumble before it reach’d my grasp. Secondly, it might, after all, prove +a deal too short. It had look’d to me a new rope of many fathoms, not +yet cut for to-morrow’s purpose; but eyesight might well deceive at that +distance, and surely enough I saw that the whole was dangling off the +ground long before it came to my hand. + +But at last I caught it, and slipping back into the room, pull’d it +after me, yard upon yard. My heart went loud and fast. There was nothing +to fasten it to but an iron staple in the door, that meant losing the +width of my cell, some six feet. This, however, must be risk’d, and I +made the end fast, lower’d the other out of window again, and climbing +to a sitting posture on the window sill, thrust out my legs over the +gulf. + +Thankful was I that darkness had fallen before this, and hidden the +giddy depths below me. I gripp’d the rope and push’d myself inch by +inch through the window, and out over the ledge. For a moment I dangled, +without courage to move a hand. Then, wreathing my legs round the rope, +I loosed my left hand, and caught with it again some six inches lower. +And so, down I went. + +Minute follow’d minute, and left me still descending, six inches at a +time, and looking neither above nor below, but always at the grey wall +that seem’d sliding up in front of me. The first dizziness was over, but +a horrible aching of the arms had taken the place of it. ’Twas growing +intolerable, when suddenly my legs, that sought to close round the rope, +found space only. I had come to the end. + +I look’d down. A yard below my feet the beam of the gallows gleam’d +palely out of the darkness. Here was my chance. I let my hands slip down +the last foot or so of rope, hung for a moment, then dropp’d for the +beam. + +My feet miss’d it, as I intended they should; but I flung both arms out +and caught it, bringing myself up with a jerk. While yet I hung clawing, +I heard a footstep coming through the gateway between the two wards. + +Here was a fix. With all speed and silence I drew myself up to the beam, +found a hold with one knee upon it, got astride, and lay down at length, +flattening my body down against the timber. Yet all the while I felt +sure I must have been heard. + +The footsteps drew nearer, and pass’d almost under the gallows. ’Twas an +officer, for, as he pass’d, he called out— + +“Sergeant Downs! Sergeant Downs!” + +A voice from the guardroom in the barbican answer’d him through the +darkness. + +“Why is not the watch set?” + +“In a minute, sir: it wants a minute to six.” + +“I thought the Colonel order’d it at half past five?” + +In the silence that follow’d, the barbican clock began to strike, and +half a dozen troopers tumbled out from the guardroom, some laughing, +some grumbling at the coldness of the night. The officer return’d to the +inner ward as they dispersed to their posts: and soon there was silence +again, save for the _tramp-tramp_ of a sentry crossing and recrossing +the pavement below me. + +All this while I lay flatten’d along the beam, scarce daring to breathe. +But at length, when the man had pass’d below for the sixth time, I +found heart to wriggle myself toward the doorway over which the gallows +protruded. By slow degrees, and pausing whenever the fellow drew near, +I crept close up to the wall: then, waiting the proper moment, cast my +legs over, dangled for a second or two swinging myself toward the sill, +flung myself off, and, touching the ledge with one toe, pitch’d forward +in the room. + +The effect of this was to give me a sound crack as I struck the +flooring, which lay about a foot below the level of the sill. I pick’d +myself up and listen’d. Outside, the regular tramp of the sentry prov’d +he had not heard me; and I drew a long breath, for I knew that without a +lantern he would never spy, in the darkness, the telltale rope dangling +from the tower. + +In the room where I stood all was right. But the flooring was uneven to +the foot, and scatter’d with small pieces of masonry. ’Twas one of the +many chambers in the castle that had dropp’d into disrepair. Groping my +way with both hands, and barking my shins on the loose stones, I found +a low vaulted passage that led me into a second chamber, empty as the +first. To my delight, the door of this was ajar, with a glimmer of light +slanting through the crack. I made straight toward it, and pull’d the +door softly. It open’d, and show’d a lantern dimly burning, and the +staircase of the keep winding past me, up into darkness. + +My chance was, of course, to descend: which I did on tiptoe, hearing no +sound. The stairs twisted down and down, and ended by a stout door with +another lamp shining above it. After listening a moment I decided to be +bold, and lifted the latch. A faint cry saluted me. + +I stood face to face with the jailer’s daughter. + +The room was a small one, well lit, and lin’d about the walls with cups +and bottles. ’Twas, as I guess’d, a taproom for the soldiers: and the +girl had been scouring one of the pewter mugs when my entrance startled +her. She stood up, white as if painted, and gasp’d— + +“Quick—quick! Down here behind the counter for your life!” + +There was scarce time to drop on my knees before a couple of troopers +loung’d in, demanding mull’d beer. The girl bustled about to serve them, +while the pair lean’d their elbows on the counter, and in this easy +attitude began to chat. + +“A shrewd night!” + +“Aye, a very freezing frost! Lucky that soldiering is not all sentry +work, or I for one ‘ud ensue my natural trade o’ plumbing. But let’s be +cheerful: for the voice o’ the turtle is heard i’ the land.” + +“Hey?” + +The man took a pull at his hot beer before explaining. + +“The turtle signifieth the Earl o’ Stamford, that is to-night visiting +Colonel Essex in secret: an’ this is the import—war, bloody war. Mark +me.” + +“Stirring, striving times!” + +“You may say so! ’A hath fifteen thousand men, the Earl, no farther off +than Taunton—why, my dear, how pale you look, to be sure!” + +“’Tis my head that aches,” answer’d the girl. + +The men finish’d their drink, and saunter’d out. I crept from under the +counter, and look’d at her. + +“Father’ll kill me for this!” + +“Then you shall say—Is it forward or back I must go?” + +“Neither.” She pull’d up a trap close beside her feet, and pointed out a +ladder leading down to the darkness. “The courts are full of troopers,” + she added. + +“The cellar?” + +She nodded. + +“Quick! There’s a door at the far end. It leads to the crypt of St. +John’s Chapel. You’ll find the key beside it, and a lantern. Here is +flint and steel.” She reach’d them down from a shelf beside her. “Crouch +down, or they’ll spy you through the window. From the crypt a passage +takes you to the governor’s house. How to escape then, God knows! ’Tis +the best I can think on.” + +I thank’d her, and began to step down the ladder. She stood for a moment +to watch, leaving the trap open for better light. Between the avenue of +casks and bins I stumbled toward the door and lantern that were just to +be discern’d at the far end of the cellar. As I struck steel on flint, +I heard the trap close: and since then have never set eyes on that +kind-hearted girl. + +The lantern lit, I took the key and fitted it to the lock. It turned +noisily, and a cold whiff of air struck my face. Gazing round this new +chamber, I saw two lines of squat pillars, supporting a low arch’d roof. +’Twas the crypt beneath the chapel, and smelt vilely. A green moisture +trickled down the pillars, and dripp’d on the tombs beneath them. + +At the end of this dreary place was a broken door, consisting only of a +plank or two, that I easily pull’d away: and beyond, a narrow passage, +over which I heard the tread of troopers plainly, as they pac’d to and +fro; also the muffled note of the clock, sounding seven. + +The passage went fairly straight, but was block’d here and there +with fallen stones, over which I scrambled as best I could. And then, +suddenly I was near pitching down a short flight of steps. I held the +lantern aloft and look’d. + +At the steps’ foot widen’d out a low room, whereof the ceiling, like +that of the crypt, rested on pillars. Between these, every inch of space +was pil’d with barrels, chests, and great pyramids of round shot. In +each corner lay a heap of rusty pikes. Of all this the signification was +clear. I stood in the munition room of the Castle. + +But what chiefly took my notice was a great door, studded with iron +nails, that barr’d all exit from the place. Over the barrels I crept +toward it, keeping the lantern high, in dread of firing any loose +powder. ’Twas fast lock’d. + +I think that, for a moment or two, I could have wept. But in a while the +thought struck me that with the knife in my pocket ’twas possible to cut +away the wood around the lock. “Courage!” said I: and pulling it forth, +knelt down to work. + +Luck in life has always used me better than my deserts. At an hour’s end +there I was, hacking away steadily, yet had made but little progress. +And then, pressing the knife deep, I broke the blade off short. The door +upon the far side was cas’d with iron. + +_Tramp—tramp!_ + +’Twas the sound of man’s footfall, and to the ear appear’d to be +descending a flight of steps on the other side of the door. I bent my +ear to the keyhole: then stepp’d to a cask of bullets that stood handy +by. I took out a dozen, felt in my pocket for Delia’s kerchief that she +had given me, caught up a pike from the pile stack’d in the corner, and +softly blowing out my light, stood back to be conceal’d by the door, +when it open’d. + +The footsteps still descended. I heard an aged voice muttering— + +“Shrivel my bones—ugh!—ugh! Wintry work—wintry work! Here’s an hour +to send a grandfatherly man a-groping for a keg o’ powder!” + +A wheezy cough clos’d the sentence, as a key was with difficulty fitted +in the lock. + +“Ugh—ugh! Sure, the lock an’ I be a pair, for stiff joints.” + +The door creak’d back against me, and a shaft of light pierc’d the +darkness. + +Within the threshold, with his back to me, stood a grey-bearded servant, +and totter’d so that the lantern shook in his hand. It sham’d me to lift +a pike against one so weak. Instead, I dropp’d it with a clatter, and +leap’d forward. The old fellow jumped like a boy, turn’d, and fac’d me +with dropp’d jaw, which gave me an opportunity to thrust four or five +bullets, not over roughly, into his mouth. Then, having turn’d him on +his back, I strapp’d Delia’s kerchief tight across his mouth, and took +the lantern from his hand. + +Not a word was said. Sure, the poor old man’s wits were shaken, for he +lay meek as a mouse, and star’d up at me, while I unstrapp’d his belt +and bound his feet with it. His hands I truss’d up behind him with his +own neckcloth; and catching up the lantern, left him there. I lock’d +the door after me, and slip’d the key into my pocket as I sprang up the +stairs beyond. + +But here a light was shining, so once more I extinguish’d my lantern. +The steps ended in a long passage, with a handsome lamp hanging at the +uttermost end, and beneath this lamp I stepp’d into a place that fill’d +me with astonishment. + +’Twas, I could not doubt, the entrance hall of the governor’s house. An +oak door, very massive, fronted me; to left and right were two smaller +doors, that plainly led into apartments of the house. Also to my +left, and nigher than the door on that side, ran up a broad staircase, +carpeted and brightly lit all the way, so that a very blaze fell on me +as I stood. Under the first flight, close to my left shoulder, was a +line of pegs with many cloaks and hats depending therefrom. Underfoot, I +remember, the hall was richly tiled in squares of red and white marble. + +Now clearly, this was a certain place wherein to be caught. “But,” + thought I, “behind one of the two doors, to left or to right, must lie +the governor’s room of business; and in that room—as likely as not—his +keys.” Which door, then, should I choose? For to stay here was madness. + +While I stood pondering, the doubt was answer’d for me. From behind the +right-hand door came a burst of laughter and clinking of glasses, on top +of which a man’s voice—the voice of Colonel Essex—call’d out for more +wine. + +I took a step to the door on the left, paus’d for a second or two with +my hand on the latch, and then cautiously push’d it open. The chamber +was empty. + +’Twas a long room, with a light burning on a square centre table, and +around it a mass of books, loose papers and documents strewn, seemingly +without order. The floor too was litter’d with them. Clearly this was +the Colonel’s office. + +I gave a rapid glance around. The lamp’s rays scarce illumin’d the far +corners; but in one of these stood a great leathern screen, and over +the fireplace near it a rack was hanging, full of swords, pistols, and +walking canes. Stepping toward it I caught sight of Anthony’s sword, +suspended there amongst the rest (they had taken it from me on the day +of my examination); which now I took down and strapp’d at my side. I +then chose out a pistol or two, slipped them into my sash, and advanced +to the centre table. + +Under the lamplight lay His Majesty’s letter, open. + +My hand was stretch’d out to catch it up, when I heard across the hall a +door open’d, and the sound of men’s voices. They were coming toward the +office. + +There was scarce time to slip back, and hide behind the screen, before +the door latch was lifted, and two men enter’d, laughing yet. + +“Business, my lord—business,” said the first (’twas Colonel Essex): “I +have much to do to-night.” + +“Sure,” the other answer’d, “I thought we had settled it. You are to +lend me a thousand out of your garrison—” + +“Which, on my own part, I would willingly do. Only I beg you to +consider, my lord, that my position here hangs on a thread. The extreme +men are already against me: they talk of replacing me by Fiennes—” + +“Nat Fiennes is no soldier.” + +“No: but he’s a bigot—a stronger recommendation. Should this plan +miscarry, and I lose a thousand men—” + +“Heavens alive, man! It _cannot_ miscarry. Hark ye: there’s Ruthen of +Plymouth will take the south road with all his forces. A day’s march +behind I shall follow—along roads to northward—parallel for a way, but +afterward converging. The Cornishmen are all in Bodmin. We shall come +on them with double their number, aye, almost treble. Can you doubt the +issue?” + +“Scarcely, with the Earl of Stamford for General.” + +The Earl was too far occupied to notice this compliment. + +“’Twill be swift and secret,” he said, “as Death himself—and as sure. +Let be the fact that Hopton is all at sixes and sevens since the Marquis +shipp’d for Wales: and at daggers drawn with Mohun.” + +Said the Colonel slowly—“Aye, the notion is good enough. Were I not in +this corner, I would not think twice. Listen now: only this morning they +forc’d me to order a young man’s hanging, who might if kept alive be +forc’d in time to give us news of value. I dar’d not refuse.” + +“He that you caught with the King’s letter?” + +“Aye—a trumpery missive, dealing with naught but summoning of the +sheriff’s posse and the like. There is more behind, could we but wait to +get at it.” + +“The gallows may loosen his tongue. And how of the girl that was taken +too?” + +“I have her in safe keeping. This very evening I shall visit her, and +make another trial to get some speech. Which puts me in mind—” + +The Colonel tinkled a small hand bell that lay on the table. + +The pause that followed was broken by the Earl. + +“May I see the letter?” + +The Colonel handed it, and tinkled the bell again, more impatiently. At +length steps were heard in the hall, and a servant open’d the door. + +“Where is Giles?” ask’d the Colonel. “Why are you taking his place?” + +“Giles can’t be found, your honor.” + +“Hey?” + +“He’s a queer oldster, your honor, an’ maybe gone to bed wi’ his aches +and pains.” + +(I knew pretty well that Giles had done no such thing: but be sure I +kept the knowledge safe behind my screen.) + +“Then go seek him, and say—No, stop: I can’t wait. Order the coach +around at the barbican in twenty minutes from now—twenty minutes, mind, +without fail. And say—’twill save time—the fellow’s to drive me to +Mistress Finch’s house in St. Thomas’ Street—sharp!” + +As the man departed on his errand, the Earl laid down His Majesty’s +letter. + +“Hang the fellow,” he said, “if they want it: the blame, if any, will +be theirs. But, in the name of Heaven, Colonel, don’t fail in lending me +this thousand men! ’Twill finish the war out of hand.” + +“I’ll do it,” answered the Colonel slowly. + +“And I’ll remember it,” said the Earl. “To-morrow, at six o’clock, I set +out.” + +The two men shook hands on their bargain and left the room, shutting the +door after them. + +I crept forth from behind the screen, my heart thumping on my ribs. Thus +far it had been all fear and trembling with me; but now this was chang’d +to a kind of panting joy. ’Twas not that I had spied the prison keys +hanging near the fireplace, nor that behind the screen lay a heap of +the Colonel’s riding boots, whereof a pair, ready spurr’d, fitted me +choicely well; but that my ears tingled with news that turn’d my escape +to a matter of public welfare: and also that the way to escape lay +plann’d in my head. + +Shod in the Colonel’s boots, I advanc’d again to the table. With +sealing-wax and the Governor’s seal, that lay handy, I clos’d up the +King’s letter, and sticking it in my breast, caught down the bunch of +keys and made for the door. + +The hall was void. I snatch’d down a cloak and heavy broad-brimm’d hat +from one of the pegs, and donning them, slipp’d back the bolts of the +heavy door. It opened without noise. Then, with a last hitch of the +cloak, to bring it well about me, I stepp’d forth into the night, +shutting the door quietly on my heels. + +My feet were on the pavement of the inner ward. Above, one star +only broke the blackness of the night. Across the court was a sentry +tramping. As I walk’d boldly up, he stopped short by the gate between +the wards and regarded me. + +Now was my danger. I knew not the right key for the wicket: and if I +fumbled, the fellow would detect me for certain. I chose one and drew +nearer; the fellow look’d, saluted, stepp’d to the wicket, and open’d it +himself. + +“Good night, Colonel!” + +I did not trust myself to answer: but passed rapidly through to the +outer ward. Here, to my joy, in the arch’d passage of the barbican gate, +was the carriage waiting, the porter standing beside the door; and +here also, to my dismay, was a torch alight, and under it half a dozen +soldiers chatting. A whisper pass’d on my approach— + +“The Colonel!” and they hurried into the guardroom. + +“Good evening, Colonel!” The porter bow’d low, holding the door wide. + +I pass’d him rapidly, climb’d into the shadow of the coach, and drew a +long breath. + +Then ensued a hateful pause, as the great gates were unbarr’d. I gripp’d +my knees for impatience. + +The driver spoke a word to the porter, who came round to the coach door +again. + +“To Mistress Finch’s, is it not?” + +“Ay,” I muttered; “and quickly.” + +The coachman touched up his pair. The wheels mov’d; went quicker. We +were outside the Castle. + +With what relief I lean’d back as the Castle gates clos’d behind us! And +with what impatience at our slow pace I sat upright again next minute! +The wheels rumbled over the bridge, and immediately we were rolling +easily down hill, through a street of some importance: but by this time +the shutters were up along the shop fronts and very few people abroad. +At the bottom we turn’d sharp to the left along a broader thoroughfare: +and then suddenly drew up. + +“Are we come?” I wonder’d. But no: ’twas the city gate, and here we had +to wait for three minutes at least, till the sentries recogniz’d the +Colonel’s coach and open’d the doors to us. They stood on this side +and that, presenting arms, as we rattled through; and next moment I was +crossing a broad bridge, with the dark Avon on either side of me, and +the vessels thick thereon, their lanterns casting long lines of yellow +on the jetty water, their masts and cordage looming up against the dull +glare of the city. + +Soon we were between lines of building once more, shops, private +dwellings and warehouses intermix’d; then pass’d a tall church; and in +about two minutes more drew up again. I look’d out. + +Facing me was a narrow gateway leading to a house that stood somewhat +back from the street, as if slipping away from between the lines of +shops that wedg’d it in on either hand. Over the grill a link was +burning. I stepp’d from the coach, open’d the gate, and crossing the +small court, rang at the house bell. + +At first there was no answer. I rang again: and now had the satisfaction +to hear a light footfall coming. A bolt was pull’d and a girl appear’d +holding a candle high in her hand. Quick as thought, I stepped past her +into the passage. + +“Delia!” + +“Jack!” + +“Hist! Close the door. Where is Mistress Finch?” + +“Upstairs, expecting Colonel Essex. Oh, the happy day! Come—” she +led me into a narrow back room and setting down the light regarded +me—“Jack, my eyes are red for thee!” + +“I see they are. To-morrow I was to be hang’d.” + +She put her hands together, catching her breath: and very lovely I +thought her, in her straight grey gown and Puritan cap. + +“They have been questioning me. Didst get my letter?” + +The answer was on my lip when there came a sound that made us both +start. + +’Twas the dull echo of a gun firing, up at the Castle. + +“Delia, what lies at the back here?” + +“A garden and a garden door: after these a lane leading to Redcliff +Street.” + +“I must go, this moment.” + +“And I?” + +She did not wait my answer, but running out into the passage, she came +swiftly back with a heavy key. I open’d the window. + +“Delia! De-lia!” ’Twas a woman’s voice calling her, at the head of the +stairs. + +“Aye, Mistress Finch.” + +“Who was that at the door?” + +I sprang into the garden and held forth a hand to Delia. “In one moment, +mistress!” call’d she, and in one moment was hurrying with me across the +dark garden beds. As she fitted the key to the garden gate, I heard the +voice again. + +“De-lia!” + +’Twas drown’d in a—wild _rat-a-tat!_ on the street door, and the shouts +of many voices. We were close press’d. + +“Now, Jack—to the right for our lives! Ah, these clumsy skirts!” + +We turn’d into the lane and rac’d down it. For my part, I swore to drown +myself in Avon rather than let those troopers retake me. I heard their +outcries about the house behind us, as we stumbled over the frozen +rubbish heaps with which the lane was bestrewn. + +“What’s our direction?” panted I, catching Delia’s hand to help her +along. + +“To the left now—for the river.” + +We struck into a narrow side street; and with that heard a watchman +bawl— + +“_Past nine o’ the night, an’ a—!_” + +The shock of our collision sent him to finish his say in the gutter. + +“Thieves!” he yell’d. + +But already we were twenty yards away, and now in a broader street, +whereof one side was wholly lin’d with warehouses. And here, to our +dismay, we heard shouts behind, and the noise of feet running. + +About halfway down the street I spied a gateway standing ajar, and +pull’d Delia aside, into a courtyard litter’d with barrels and timbers, +and across it to a black empty barn of a place, where a flight of wooden +steps glimmer’d, that led to an upper story. We climb’d these stairs at +a run. + +“Faugh! What a vile smell!” + +The loft was pil’d high with great bales of wool, as I found by the +touch, and their odor enough to satisfy an army. Nevertheless, I was +groping about for a place to hide, when Delia touch’d me by the arm, and +pointed. + +Looking, I descried in the gloom a tall quadrilateral of purple, not +five steps away, with a speck of light shining near the top of it, and +three dark streaks running down the middle, whereof one was much thicker +than the rest. ’Twas an open doorway; the speck, a star fram’d within +it; the broad streak, a ship’s mast reaching up; and the lesser ones +two ends of a rope, working over a pulley above my head, and used for +lowering the bales of wool on shipboard. + +Advancing, I stood on the sill and look’d down. On the black water, +twenty feet below, lay a three-masted trader, close against the +warehouse. My toes stuck out over her deck, almost. + +At first glance I could see no sign of life on board: but presently was +aware of a dark figure leaning over the bulwarks, near the bows. He +was quite motionless. His back was toward us, blotted against the black +shadow; and the man engag’d only, it seem’d, in watching the bright +splash of light flung by the ship’s lantern on the water beneath him. + +I resolv’d to throw myself on the mercy of this silent figure; and put +out a hand to test the rope. One end of it was fix’d to a bale of wool +that lay, as it had been lower’d, on the deck. Flinging myself on the +other, I found it sink gently from the pulley, as the weight below moved +slowly upward: and sinking with it, I held on till my feet touch’d the +deck. + +Still the figure in the bows was motionless. + +I paid out my end of the rope softly, lowering back the bale of wool: +and, as soon as it rested again on deck, signalled to Delia to let +herself down. + +She did so. As she alighted, and stood beside me, our hands bungled. The +rope slipp’d up quickly, letting down the bale with a run. + +We caught at the rope, and stopp’d it just in time: but the pulley above +creak’d vociferously. I turn’d my head. + +The man in the bows had not mov’d. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE. + + +“Now either I am mad or dreaming,” thought I: for that the fellow had +not heard our noise was to me starkly incredible. I stepp’d along +the deck toward him: not an inch did he budge. I touch’d him on the +shoulder. + +He fac’d round with a quick start. + +“Sir,” said I, quick and low, before he could get a word out—“Sir, we +are in your hands. I will be plain. To-night I have broke out of Bristol +Keep, and the Colonel’s men are after me. Give me up to them, and they +hang me to-morrow: give my comrade up, and they persecute her vilely. +Now, sir, I know not which side you be, but there’s our case in a +nutshell.” + +The man bent forward, displaying a huge, rounded face, very kindly about +the eyes, and set atop of the oddest body in the world: for under a +trunk extraordinary broad and strong, straddled a pair of legs that a +baby would have disown’d—so thin and stunted were they, and (to make it +the queerer) ended in feet the most prodigious you ever saw. + +As I said, this man lean’d forward, and shouted into my ear so that I +fairly leap’d in the air— + +“My name’s Pottery—Bill Pottery, cap’n o’ the _Godsend_—an’ you can’t +make me hear, not if you bust yoursel’!” + +You may think this put me in a fine quandary. + +“I be deaf as nails!” bawl’d he. + +’Twas horrible: for the troopers (I thought) if anywhere near, could not +miss hearing him. His voice shook the very rigging. + +“... An’ o’ my crew the half ashore gettin’ drunk, an’ the half below +in a very accomplished state o’ liquor: so there’s no chance for ’ee to +speak!” + +He paus’d a moment, then roared again— + +“What a pity! ’Cos you make me very curious—that you do!” + +Luckily, at this moment, Delia had the sense to put a finger to her lip. +The man wheel’d round without another word, led us aft over the blocks, +cordage, and all manner of loose gear that encumber’d the deck, to a +ladder that, toward the stern, led down into darkness. Here he sign’d +to us to follow; and, descending first, threw open a door, letting out +a faint stream of light in our faces. ’Twas the captain’s cabin, lin’d +with cupboards and lockers: and the light came from an oil lamp hanging +over a narrow deal table. By this light Captain Billy scrutiniz’d us for +an instant: then, from one of his lockers, brought out pen, paper, and +ink, and set them on the table before me. + +[Illustration: “Master Pottery shaking us both by the hand.”] + +I caught up the pen, dipp’d it, and began to write— + +“I am John Marvel, a servant of King Charles; and this night am escap’d +out of Bristol Castle. If you be—” + +Thus far I had written without glancing up, in fear to read the +disappointment of my hopes. But now the pen was caught suddenly from my +fingers, the paper torn in shreds, and there was Master Pottery shaking +us both by the hand, nodding and becking, and smiling the while all over +his big red face. + +But he ceas’d at last: and opening another of his lockers, drew forth +a horn lantern, a mallet, and a chisel. Not a word was spoken as he lit +the lantern and pass’d out of the cabin, Delia and I following at his +heels. + +Just outside, at the foot of the steps, he stoop’d, pull’d up a trap +in the flooring, and disclos’d another ladder stretching, as it seem’d, +down into the bowels of the ship. This we descended carefully; and found +ourselves in the hold, pinching our noses ’twixt finger and thumb. + +For indeed the smell here was searching to a very painful degree: for +the room was narrow, and every inch of it contested by two puissant +essences, the one of raw wood, the other of bilge water. With wool the +place was pil’d: but also I notic’d, not far from the ladder, several +casks set on their ends; and to these the captain led us. + +They were about a dozen in all, stacked close together: and Master +Pottery, rolling two apart from the rest, dragg’d them to another trap +and tugg’d out the bungs. A stream of fresh water gush’d from each and +splash’d down the trap into the bilge below. Then, having drained them, +he stay’d in their heads with a few blows of his mallet. + +His plan for us was clear. And in a very few minutes Delia and I were +crouching on the timbers, each with a cask inverted over us, our noses +at the bungholes and our ears listening to Master Pottery’s footsteps +as they climb’d heavily back to deck. The rest of the casks were stack’d +close round us, so that even had the gloom allow’d, we could see nothing +at all. + +“Jack!” + +“Delia!” + +“Dost feel heroical at all?” + +“Not one whit. There’s a trickle of water running down my back, to begin +with.” + +“And my nose it itches; and oh, what a hateful smell! Say something to +me, Jack.” + +“My dear,” said I, “there is one thing I’ve been longing these weeks to +say: but this seems an odd place for it.” + +“What is’t?” + +I purs’d up my lips to the bunghole, and— + +“I love you,” said I. + +There was silence for a moment: and then, within Delia’s cask, the sound +of muffled laughter. + +“Delia,” I urg’d, “I mean it, upon my oath. Wilt marry me, sweetheart?” + +“Must get out of this cask first. Oh, Jack, what a dear goose thou art!” + And the laughter began again. + +I was going to answer, when I heard a loud shouting overhead. ’Twas the +sound of someone hailing the ship, and thought I, “the troopers are on +us!” + +They were, in truth. Soon I heard the noise of feet above and a string +of voices speaking one after another, louder and louder. And next Master +Pottery began to answer up and drown’d all speech but his own. When he +ceas’d, there was silence for some minutes: after which we heard a party +descend to the cabin, and the trampling of their feet on the boards +above us. They remain’d there some while discussing: and then came +footsteps down the second ladder, and a twinkle of light reach’d me +through the bunghole of my cask. + +“Quick!” said a husky voice; “overhaul the cargo here!” + +I heard some half dozen troopers bustling about the hold and tugging out +the bales of wool. + +“Hi!” call’d Master Pottery: “an’ when you’ve done rummaging my ship, +put everything back as you found it.” + +“Poke about with your swords,” commanded the husky voice. “What’s in +those barrels yonder?” + +“Water, sergeant,” answers a trooper, rolling out a couple. + +“Nothing behind them?” + +“No; they’re right against the side.” + +“Drop ’em then. Plague on this business! ’Tis my notion they’re a mile +a-way, and Cap’n Stubbs no better than a fool to send us back here. He’s +grudging promotion, that’s what he is! Hurry, there—hurry!” + +Ten minutes later, the searchers were gone; and we in our casks drawing +long breaths of thankfulness and strong odors. And so we crouch’d +till, about midnight, Captain Billy brought us down a supper of ship’s +biscuit: which we crept forth to eat, being sorely cramp’d. + +He could not hear our thanks: but guess’d them. + +“Now say not a word! To-morrow we sail for Plymouth Sound: thence for +Brittany. Hist! We be all King’s men aboard the _Godsend_, tho’ hearing +nought I says little. Yet I have my reasoning heresies, holding the +Lord’s Anointed to be an anointed rogue, but nevertheless to be serv’d: +just as aboard the _Godsend_ I be Cap’n Billy an’ you plain Jack, be +your virtues what they may. An’ the conclusion is—damn all mutineers +an’ rebels! Tho’, to be sure, the words be a bit lusty for a young +gentlewoman’s ears.” + +We went back to our casks with lighter hearts. Howbeit ’twas near five +in the morning, I dare say, before my narrow bedchamber allow’d me to +drop asleep. + +I woke to spy through my bunghole the faint light of day struggling down +the hatches. Above, I heard a clanking noise, and the voices of the men +hiccoughing a dismal chant. They were lifting anchor. I crawl’d forth +and woke Delia, who was yet sleeping: and together we ate the breakfast +that lay ready set for us on the head of a barrel. + +Presently the sailors broke off their song, and we heard their feet +shuffling to and fro on deck. + +“Sure,” cried Delia, “we are moving!” + +And surely we were, as could be told by the alter’d sound of the water +beneath us, and the many creakings that the _Godsend_ began to keep. +Once more I tasted freedom again, and the joy of living, and could have +sung for the mirth that lifted my heart. “Let us but gain open sea,” + said I, “and I’ll have tit-for-tat with these rebels!” + +But alas! before we had left Avon mouth twenty minutes, ’twas another +tale. For I lay on my side in that dark hold and long’d to die: and +Delia sat up beside me, her hands in her lap, and her great eyes fix’d +most dolefully. And when Captain Billy came down with news that we were +safe and free to go on deck, we turn’d our faces from him, and said we +thank’d him kindly, but had no longer any wish that way—too wretched, +even, to remember his deafness. + +Let me avoid, then, some miserable hours, and come to the evening, when, +faint with fasting and nausea, we struggled up to the deck for air, and +look’d about us. + +’Twas grey—grey everywhere: the sky lead-colored, with deeper shades +toward the east, where a bank of cloud blotted the coast line: the +thick rain descending straight, with hardly wind enough to set the +sails flapping; the sea spread like a plate of lead, save only where, +to leeward, a streak of curded white crawled away from under the +_Godsend’s_ keel. + +On deck, a few sailors mov’d about, red eyed and heavy. They show’d +no surprise to see us, but nodded very friendly, with a smile for our +strange complexions. Here again, as ever, did adversity mock her own +image. + +But what more took our attention was to see a row of men stretch’d on +the starboard side, like corpses, their heads in the scuppers, their +legs pointed inboard, and very orderly arranged. They were a dozen and +two in all, and over them bent Captain Billy with a mop in his hand, and +a bucket by his side: who beckon’d that we should approach. + +“Array’d in order o’ merit,” said he, pointing with his mop like a +showman to the line of figures before him. + +We drew near. + +“This here is Matt. Soames, master o’ this vessel—an’ he’s dead.” + +“Dead?” + +“Dead-drunk, that is. O the gifted man! Come up!” He thrust the mop in +the fellow’s heavy face. “There now! Did he move, did he wink? ‘No,’ +says you. O an accomplished drunkard!” + +He paus’d a moment; then stirr’d up No. 2, who open’d one eye lazily, +and shut it again in slumber. + +“You saw? Open’d one eye, hey? That’s Benjamin Halliday. The next is a +black man, as you see: a man of dismal color, and hath other drawbacks +natural to such. Can the Aethiop shift his skin? No, but he’ll open both +eyes. See there—a perfect Christian, in so far as drink can make him.” + +With like comments he ran down the line till he came to the last man, in +front of whom he stepp’d back. + +“About this last—he’s a puzzler. Times I put him top o’ the list, an’ +times at the tail. That’s Ned Masters, an’ was once the Reverend Edward +Masters, Bachelor o’ Divinity in Cambridge College; but in a tavern +there fell a-talking with a certain Pelagian about Adam an’ Eve, an’ +because the fellow turn’d stubborn, put a knife into his waistband, an’ +had to run away to sea: a middling drinker only, but after a quart or +so to hear him tackle Predestination! So there be times after all when +I sets’n apart, and says, ‘Drunk, you’m no good, but half-drunk, you’m +priceless.’ Now there’s a man—” He dropp’d his mop, and, leading us +aft, pointed with admiring finger to the helmsman—a thin, wizen’d +fellow, with a face like a crab apple, and a pair of piercing grey eyes +half hidden by the droop of his wrinkled lids. “Gabriel Hutchins, how +old be you?” + +“Sixty-four, come next Martinmas,” pip’d the helmsman. + +“In what state o’ life?” + +“Drunk.” + +“How drunk?” + +“As a lord!” + +“Canst stand upright?” + +“Hee-hee! Now could I iver do other?—a miserable ould worms to whom the +sweet effects o’ quantums be denied. When was I iver wholesomely maz’d? +Or when did I lay my grey hairs on the floor, saying, ’Tis enough, an’ +’tis good’? Answer me that, Cap’n Bill.” + +“But you hopes for the best, Gabriel.” + +“Aye, I hopes—I hopes.” + +The old man sigh’d as he brought the _Godsend_ a point nearer the wind; +and, as we turn’d away with the Captain, was still muttering, his sharp +grey eyes fix’d on the vessel’s prow. + +“He’s my best,” said Captain Billy Pottery. + +With this crew we pass’d four days; and I write this much of them +because they afterward, when sober, did me a notable good turn, as you +shall read toward the end of this history. But lest you should +judge them hardly, let me say here that when they recovered of their +stupor—as happen’d to the worst after thirty-six hours—there was no +brisker, handier set of fellows on the seas. And this Captain Billy well +understood: “but” (said he) “I be a collector an’ a man o’ conscience +both, which is uncommon. Doubtless there be good sots that are not good +seamen, but from such I turn my face, drink they never so prettily.” + +’Twas necessary I should impart some notion of my errand to Captain +Billy, tho’ I confin’d myself to hints, telling him only ’twas urgent I +should be put ashore somewhere on the Cornish coast, for that I carried +intelligence which would not keep till we reached Plymouth, a town that, +besides, was held by the rebels. And he agreed readily to land me in +Bude Bay: “and also thy comrade, if (as I guess) she be so minded,” + he added, glancing up at Delia from the paper whereon I had written my +request. + +She had been silent of late, beyond her wont, avoiding (I thought) to +meet my eye: but answer’d simply, + +“I go with Jack.” + +Captain Billy, whose eyes rested on her as she spoke, beckon’d me, very +mysterious, outside the cabin, and winking slily, whisper’d loud enough +to stun one—— + +“Ply her, Jack”—he had call’d me “Jack” from the first—“ply her +briskly! Womankind is but yielding flesh: ‘am an amorous man mysel’, an’ +speak but that I have prov’d.” + +On this—for the whole ship could hear it—there certainly came the +sound of a stifled laugh from the other side of the cabin door: but it +did not mend my comrade’s shy humor, that lasted throughout the voyage. + +To be brief, ’twas not till the fourth afternoon (by reason of baffling +head winds) that we stepped out of the _Godsend’s_ boat upon a small +beach of shingle, whence, between a rift in the black cliffs, wound up +the road that was to lead us inland. The _Godsend_, as we turn’d to wave +our hands, lay at half a mile’s distance, and made a pretty sight: for +the day, that had begun with a white frost, was now turn’d sunny and +still, so that looking north we saw the sea all spread with pink and +lilac and hyacinth, and upon it the ship lit up, her masts and sails +glowing like a gold piece. And there was Billy, leaning over the +bulwarks and waving his trumpet for “Good-bye!” Thought I, for I little +dream’d to see these good fellows again, “what a witless game is this +life! to seek ever in fresh conjunctions what we leave behind in a hand +shake.” ’Twas a cheap reflection, yet it vex’d me that as we turn’d to +mount the road Delia should break out singing— + +“Hey! nonni—nonni—no! Is’t not fine to laugh and sing When the hells +of death do ring!—” + +“Why, no,” said I, “I don’t think it”: and capp’d her verse with +another— + +“Silly man, the cost to find Is to leave as good behind—” + +“Jack, for pity’s sake, stop!” She put her fingers to her ears. “What a +nasty, creaking voice thou hast, to be sure!” + +“That’s as a man may hold,” said I, nettled. + +“No, indeed: yours is a very poor voice, but mine is beautiful. So +listen.” + +She went on to sing as she went, “Green as grass is my kirtle,” “Tire me +in tiffany,” “Come ye bearded men-at-arms,” and “The Bending Rush.” All +these she sang, as I must confess, most delicately well, and then fac’d +me, with a happy smile— + +“Now, have not I a sweet voice? Why, Jack—art still glum?” + +“Delia,” answer’d I, “you have first to give me a reply to what, four +days agone, I ask’d you. Dear girl—nay then, dear comrade—” + +I broke off, for she had come to a stop, wringing her hands and looking +in my face most dolefully. + +“Oh, dear—oh, dear! Jack, we have had such merry times: and you are +spoiling all the fun!” + +We follow’d the road after this very moodily; for Delia, whom I had +made sharer of the rebels’ secret, agreed that no time was to be lost +in reaching Bodmin, that lay a good thirty miles to the southwest. Night +fell and the young moon rose, with a brisk breeze at our backs that kept +us still walking without any feeling of weariness. Captain Billy had +given me at parting a small compass, of new invention, that a man could +carry easily in his pocket; and this from time to time I examin’d in the +moonlight, guiding our way almost due south, in hopes of striking into +the main road westward. I doubt not we lost a deal of time among +the byways; but at length happen’d on a good road bearing south, and +follow’d it till daybreak, when to our satisfaction we spied a hill in +front, topp’d with a stout castle, and under it a town of importance, +that we guess’d to be Launceston. + +By this, my comrade and I were on the best of terms again; and now drew +up to consider if we should enter the town or avoid it to the west, +trusting to find a breakfast in some tavern on the way. Because we knew +not with certainty the temper of the country, it seem’d best to choose +this second course: so we fetch’d around by certain barren meadows, and +thought ourselves lucky to hit on a road that, by the size, must be the +one we sought, and a tavern with a wide yard before it and a carter’s +van standing at the entrance, not three gunshots from the town walls. + +“Now Providence hath surely led us to breakfast,” said Delia, and +stepped before me into the yard, toward the door. + +I was following her when, inside of a gate to the right of the house, I +caught the gleam of steel, and turn’d aside to look. + +To my dismay there stood near a score of chargers in this second court, +saddled and dripping with sweat. My first thought was to run after +Delia; but a quick surprise made me rub my eyes with wonder— + +’Twas the sight of a sorrel mare among them—a mare with one high white +stocking. In a thousand I could have told her for Molly. + +Three seconds after I was at the tavern door, and in my ears a voice +sounding that stopp’d me short and told me in one instant that without +God’s help all was lost. + +’Twas the voice of Captain Settle speaking in the taproom; and already +Delia stood, past concealment, by the open door. + +“... And therefore, master carter, it grieves me to disappoint thee; +but no man goeth this day toward Bodmin. Such be my Lord of Stamford’s +orders, whose servant I am, and as captain of this troop I am sent to +exact them. As they displease you, his lordship is but twenty-four hours +behind: you can abide him and complain. Doubtless he will hear—_ten +million devils!_” + +I heard his shout as he caught sight of Delia. I saw his crimson face as +he darted out and gripp’d her. I saw, or half saw, the troopers crowding +out after him. For a moment I hesitated. Then came my pretty comrade’s +voice, shrill above the hubbub— + +“Jack—they have horses outside! Leave me—I am ta’en—and ride, dear +lad—ride!” + +In a flash my decision was taken, for better or worse. I dash’d out +around the house, vaulted the gate, and catching at Molly’s mane, leap’d +into the saddle. + +A dozen troopers were at the gate, and two had their pistols levell’d. + +“Surrender!” + +“Be hang’d if I do!” + +I set my teeth and put Molly at the low wall. As she rose like a bird in +air the two pistols rang out together, and a burning pain seem’d to tear +open my left shoulder. In a moment the mare alighted safe on the other +side, flinging me forward on her neck. But I scrambled back, and with a +shout that frighten’d my own ears, dug my heels into her flanks. + +Half a minute more and I was on the hard road, galloping westward for +dear life. So also were a score of rebel troopers. Twenty miles and more +lay before me; and a bare hundred yards was all my start. + +[Illustration: The two pistols rang out together.] + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND AM WELL TREATED THERE. + + +And now I did indeed abandon myself to despair. Few would have given a +groat for my life, with that crew at my heels; and I least of all, now +that my dear comrade was lost. The wound in my shoulder was bleeding +sore—I could feel the warm stream welling—yet not so sore as my heart. +And I pressed my knees into the saddle flap, and wondered what the end +would be. + +The sorrel mare was galloping, free and strong, her delicate ears laid +back, and the network of veins under her soft skin working with the +heave and fall of her withers: yet—by the mud and sweat about her—I +knew she must have travelled far before I mounted. I heard a shot or two +fired, far up the road: tho’ their bullets must have fallen short: +at least, I heard none whiz past. But the rebels’ shouting was clear +enough, and the thud of their gallop behind. + +I think that, for a mile or two, I must have ridden in a sort of swoon. +’Tis certain, not an inch of the road comes back to me: nor did I once +turn my head to look back, but sat with my eyes fastened stupidly on the +mare’s neck. And by-and-bye, as we galloped, the smart of my wound, the +heartache, hurry, pounding of hoofs—all dropp’d to an enchanting lull. +I rode, and that was all. + +For, swoon or no, I was lifted off earth, as it seemed, and on easy +wings to an incredible height, where were no longer hedges, nor road, +nor country round; but a great stillness, and only the mare and I +running languidly through it. + +“Ride!” + +Now, at first, I thought ’twas someone speaking this in my ear, and +turn’d my head. But ’twas really the last word I had heard from Delia, +now after half an hour repeated in my brain. And as I grew aware of +this, the dullness fell off me, and all became very distinct. And the +muscles about my wound had stiffen’d—which was vilely painful: and the +country, I saw, was a brown, barren moor, dotted with peat-ricks: and I +cursed it. + +This did me good: for it woke the fighting-man in me, and I set my +teeth. Now for the first time looking back, I saw, with a great gulp of +joy, I had gained on the troopers. A long dip of the road lay between +me and the foremost, now topping the crest. The sun had broke through at +last, and sparkled on his cap and gorget. I whistled to Molly (I could +not pat her), and spoke to her softly: the sweet thing prick’d up +her ears, laid them back again, and mended her pace. Her stride was +beautiful to feel. + +I had yet no clear idea how to escape. In front the moors rose +gradually, swelling to the horizon line, and there broken into steep, +jagged heights. The road under me was sound white granite and stretch’d +away till lost among these fastnesses—in all of it no sign of man’s +habitation. Be sure I look’d along it, and to right and left, dreading +to spy more troopers. But for mile on mile, all was desolate. + +Now and then I caught the cry of a pewit, or saw a snipe glance up from +his bed; but mainly I was busied about the mare. “Let us but gain the +ridge ahead,” thought I, “and there is a chance.” So I rode as light as +I could, husbanding her powers. + +She was going her best, but the best was near spent. The sweat was +oozing, her satin coat losing the gloss, the spume flying back from her +nostrils—“Soh!” I called to her: “Soh! my beauty; we ride to save an +army!” The loose stones flew right and left, as she reach’d out her +neck, and her breath came shorter and shorter. + +A mile, and another mile, we passed in this trim, and by the end of it +must have spent three-quarters of an hour at the work. Glancing back, I +saw the troopers scattered; far behind, but following. The heights were +still a weary way ahead: but I could mark their steep sides ribb’d +with boulders. Till these were passed, there was no chance to hide. The +parties in this race could see each other all the way, and must ride it +out. + +And all the way the ground kept rising. I had no means to ease the +mare, even by pulling off my heavy jack-boots, with one arm (and that my +right) dangling useless. Once she flung up her head and I caught sight +of her nostril, red as fire, and her poor eyes starting. I felt her +strength ebbing between my knees. Here and there she blundered in her +stride. And somewhere, over the ridge yonder, lay the Army of the West, +and we alone could save it. + +The road, for half a mile, now fetched a sudden loop, though the country +on either side was level enough. Had my head been cool, I must have +guessed a reason for this: but, you must remember, I had long been giddy +with pain and loss of blood—so, thinking to save time, I turned Molly +off the granite, and began to cut across. + +The short grass and heath being still frozen, we went fairly for the +first minute or so. But away behind us, I heard a shout—and it must +have been loud to reach me. I learn’d the meaning when, about two +hundred yards before we came on the road again, the mare’s forelegs went +deep, and next minute we were plunging in a black peat-quag. + +Heaven can tell how we won through. It must have been still partly +frozen, and perhaps we were only on the edge of it. I only know that as +we scrambled up on solid ground, plastered and breathless, I looked at +the wintry sun, the waste, and the tall hill tow’ring to the right of +us, and thought it a strange place to die in. + +For the struggle had burst open my wound again, and the blood was +running down my arm and off my fingers in a stream. And now I could +count every gorsebush, every stone—and now I saw nothing at all. And +I heard the tinkling of bells: and then found a tune running in my +head—’twas “Tire me in tiffany,” and I tried to think where last I +heard it. + +But sweet gallant Molly must have held on: for the next thing I woke up +to was a four-hol’d cross beside the road: and soon after we were over +the ridge and clattering down hill. + +A rough tor had risen full in front, but the road swerved to the left +and took us down among the spurs of it. Now was my last lookout. I tried +to sway less heavily in the saddle, and with my eyes searched the plain +at our feet. + +Alas! Beneath us the waste land was spread, mile upon mile: and I +groaned aloud. For just below I noted a clump of roofless cabins, and +beyond, upon the moors, the dotted walls of sheep-cotes, ruined also: +but in all the sad-color’d leagues no living man, nor the sign of one. +It was done with us. I reined up the mare—and then, in the same motion, +wheeled her sharp to the right. + +High above, on the hillside, a voice was calling. + +I look’d up. Below the steeper ridge of the tor a patch of land had been +cleared for tillage: and here a yoke of oxen was moving leisurely before +a plough (’twas their tinkling bells I had heard, just now); while +behind followed the wildest shape—by the voice, a woman. + +She was not calling to me, but to her team: and as I put Molly at the +slope, her chant rose and fell in the mournfullest singsong. + +“So-hoa! Oop Comely Vean! oop, then—o-oop!” + +I rose in my stirrups and shouted. + +At this and the sound of hoofs, she stay’d the plough and, hand on hip, +looked down the slope. The oxen, softly rattling the chains on their +yoke, turn’d their necks and gazed. With sunk head Molly heaved herself +up the last few yards and came to a halt with a stagger. I slipp’d out +of the saddle and stood, with a hand on it, swaying. + +“What’s thy need, young man—that comest down to Temple wi’ sword +a-danglin’?” + +The girl was a half-naked savage, dress’d only in a strip of sacking +that barely reach’d her knees, and a scant bodice of the same, lac’d in +front with pack thread, that left her bosom and brown arms free. Yet she +appear’d no whit abash’d, but lean’d on the plough-tail and regarded me, +easy and frank, as a man would. + +“Sell me a horse,” I blurted out: “Twenty guineas will I give for +one within five minutes, and more if he be good! I ride on the King’s +errand.” + +“Then get thee back to thy master, an’ say, no horse shall he have o’ +me—nor any man that uses horseflesh so.” She pointed to Molly’s knees, +that were bow’d and shaking, and the bloody froth dripping from her +mouth. + +“Girl, for God’s sake sell me a horse! They are after me, and I am +hurt.” I pointed up the road. “Better than I are concerned in this.” + +“God nor King know I, young man. But what’s on thy saddle cloth, there?” + +’Twas the smear where my blood had soak’d: and looking and seeing +the purple mess cak’d with mud and foam on the sorrel’s flank, I felt +suddenly very sick. The girl made a step to me. + +“Sell thee a horse? Hire thee a bedman, more like. Nay, then, lad—” + +But I saw her no longer: only called “oh-oh!” twice, like a little +child, and slipping my hold of the saddle, dropp’d forward on her +breast. + + * * * * * * * + +Waking, I found myself in darkness—not like that of night, but of a +room where the lights have gone out: and felt that I was dying. But +this hardly seem’d a thing to be minded. There was a smell of peat and +bracken about. Presently I heard the tramp of feet somewhere overhead, +and a dull sound of voices that appear’d to be cursing. + +The footsteps went to and fro, the voices muttering most of the time. +After a bit I caught a word—“Witchcraft”: and then a voice speaking +quite close—“There’s blood ’pon her hands, an’ there’s blood yonder +by the plough.” Said another voice, higher and squeaky, “there’s scent +behind a fox, but you don’t dig it up an’ take it home.” The tramp +passed on, and the voices died away. + +By this I knew the troopers were close, and seeking me. A foolish +thought came that I was buried, and they must be rummaging over my +grave: but indeed I had no wish to enquire into it; no wish to move +even, but just to lie and enjoy the lightness of my limbs. The blood was +still running. I felt the warmth of it against my back: and thought it +very pleasant. So I shut my eyes and dropp’d off again. + +Then I heard the noise of shouting, far away: and a long while after +that, was rous’d by the touch of a hand, thrust in against my naked +breast, over my heart. + +“Who is it?” I whispered. + +“Joan,” answered a voice, and the hand was withdrawn. + +The darkness had lifted somewhat, and though something stood between me +and the light, I mark’d a number of small specks, like points of gold +dotted around me— + +“Joan—what besides?” + +“Joan’s enough, I reckon: lucky for thee ’tis none else. Joan o’ the Tor +folks call me, but may jet be Joan i’ Good Time. So hold thy peace, lad, +an’ cry out so little as may be.” + +I felt a ripping of my jacket sleeve and shirt, now clotted and stuck to +the flesh. It pain’d cruelly, but I shut my teeth: and after that came +the smart and delicious ache of water, as she rinsed the wound. + +“Clean through the flesh, lad:—in an’ out, like country dancin’. No +bullet to probe nor bone to set. Heart up, soce! Thy mother shall kiss +thee yet. What’s thy name?” + +“Marvel, Joan—Jack Marvel.” + +“An’ marvel ’tis thou’rt Marvel yet. Good blood there’s in thee, but +little enow.” + +She bandaged the sore with linen torn from my shirt, and tied it round +with sackcloth from her own dress. ’Twas all most gently done: and then +I found her arms under me, and myself lifted as easy as a baby. + +“Left arm round my neck, Jack: an’ sing out if ’tis hurtin’ thee.” + +It seemed but six steps and we were out on the bright hillside, not +fifty paces from where the plough yet stood in the furrow. I caught a +glimpse of a brown neck and a pair of firm red lips, of the grey tor +stretching above us and, further aloft, a flock of field fare hanging in +the pale sky; and then shut my eyes for the dazzle: but could still +feel the beat of Joan’s heart as she held me close, and the touch of her +breath on my forehead. + +Down the hill she carried me, picking the softest turf, and moving +with an easeful swing that rather lull’d my hurt than jolted it. I was +dozing, even, when a strange noise awoke me. + +’Twas a high protracted note, that seem’d at first to swell up toward +us, and then broke off in half a dozen or more sharp yells. Joan took no +heed of them, but seeing my eyes unclose, and hearing me moan, stopped +short. + +“Hurts thee, lad?” + +“No.” ’Twas not my pain but the sight of the sinking sun that wrung the +exclamation from me—“I was thinking,” I muttered. + +“Don’t: ’tis bad for health. But bide thee still a-while, and shalt lie +’pon a soft bed.” + +By this time, we had come down to the road: and the yells were still +going on, louder than ever. We cross’d the road, descended another +slope, and came all at once on a low pile of buildings that a moment +before had been hid. ’Twas but three hovels of mud, stuck together in +the shape of a headless cross, the main arm pointing out toward the +moor. Around the whole ran a battered wall, patched with furs; and from +this dwelling the screams were issuing— + +“Joan!” the voice began, “Joan—Jan Tergagle’s a-clawin’ my +legs—Gar-rout, thou hell cat—Blast thee, let me zog! Pull’n off +Joan—Jo-an!” + +The voice died away into a wail; then broke out in a racket of curses. +Joan stepped to the door and flung it wide. As my eyes grew used to the +gloom inside, they saw this:— + +A rude kitchen—the furniture but two rickety chairs, now toss’d on +their faces, an oak table, with legs sunk into the earth, a keg of +strong waters, tilted over and draining upon the mud floor, a ladder +leading up to a loft, and in two of the corners a few bundles of bracken +strewn for bedding. To the left, as one entered, was an open hearth; +but the glowing peat-turves were now pitch’d to right and left over the +hearthstone and about the floor, where they rested, filling the den with +smoke. Under one of the chairs a black cat spat and bristled: while in +the middle of the room, barefooted in the embers, crouched a man. He was +half naked, old and bent, with matted grey hair and beard hanging +almost to his waist. His chest and legs were bleeding from a score of +scratches; and he pointed at the cat, opening and shutting his mouth +like a dog, and barking out curse upon curse. + +No way upset, Joan stepped across the kitchen, laid me on one of the +bracken beds, and explain’d— + +“That’s feyther: he’s drunk.” + +With which she turn’d, dealt the old man a cuff that stretch’d him +senseless, and gathering up the turves, piled them afresh on the hearth. +This done, she took the keg and gave me a drink of it. The stuff scalded +me, but I thanked her. And then, when she had shifted my bed a bit, to +ease the pain of lying, she righted a chair, drew it up and sat beside +me. The old man lay like a log where he had fallen, and was now snoring. +Presently, the fumes of the liquor, or mere faintness, mastered me, and +my eyes closed. But the picture they closed upon was that of Joan, as +she lean’d forward, chin on hand, with the glow of the fire on her brown +skin and in the depths of her dark eyes. + +[Illustration: Joan] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK DOWN. + + +But the pain of my hurt followed into my dreams. I woke with a start, +and tried to sit up. + +Within the kitchen all was quiet. The old savage was still stretch’d on +the floor: the cat curled upon the hearth. The girl had not stirr’d: but +looking toward the window hole, I saw night out side, and a frosty star +sparkling far down in the west. + +“Joan, what’s the hour?” + +“Sun’s been down these four hours.” She turned her face to look at me. + +“I’ve no business lying here.” + +“Chose to come, lad: none axed thee, that _I_ knows by.” + +“Where’s the mare? Must set me across her back, Joan, and let me ride +on.” + +“Mare’s in stable, wi’ fetlocks swelled like puddens. Chose to come, +lad; an’ choose or no, must bide.” + +“’Tis for the General Hopton, at Bodmin, I am bound, Joan; and wound or +no, must win there this night.” + +“And that’s seven mile away: wi’ a bullet in thy skull, and a peat quag +thy burial. For _they_ went south, and thy road lieth more south than +west.” + +“The troopers?” + +“Aye, Jack: an’ work I had this day wi’ those same bloody warriors: but +take a sup at the keg, and bite this manchet of oat cake while I tell +thee.” + +And so, having fed me, and set my bed straight, she sat on the floor +beside me (for the better hearing), and in her uncouth tongue, told how +I had been saved. I cannot write her language; but the tale, in sum, was +this:— + +When I dropp’d forward into her arms, Joan for a moment was taken aback, +thinking me dead. But (to quote her) “‘no good,’ said I, ‘in cuddlin’ a +lad ’pon the hillside, for folks to see, tho’ he _have_ a-got curls like +a wench: an’ dead or ‘live, no use to wait for others to make sure.’” + +So she lifted and carried me to a spot hard by, that she called the +“Jew’s Kitchen;” and where that was, even with such bearings as I had, +she defied me to discover. There was no time to tend me, whilst Molly +stood near to show my whereabouts: so she let me lie, and went to lead +the sorrel down to stable. + +Her hand was on the bridle when she heard a _Whoop!_ up the road; and +there were half a dozen riders on the crest, and tearing down hill +toward her. Joan had nothing left but to feign coolness, and went on +leading the mare down the slope. + +In a while, up comes the foremost trooper, draws rein, and pants out +“Where’s he to?” + +“Who?” asks Joan, making out to be surprised. + +“Why, the lad whose mare thou’rt leadin’?” + +“Mile an’ half away by now.” + +“How’s that?” + +“Freshly horsed,” explains Joan. + +The troopers—they were all around her by this—swore ’twas a lie; but +luckily, being down in the hollow, could not see over the next ridge. +They began a string of questions all together: but at last a little tun +bellied sergeant call’d “Silence!” and asked the girl, “did she loan the +fellow a horse?” + +Here I will quote her again:— + +“‘Sir, to thee,’ I answer’d, ‘no loan at all, but fair swap for our Grey +Robin.’ + +“‘That’s a lie,’ he says; ’an’ I won’t believe thee.’ + +“‘Might so well,’ says I; ‘but go to stable, an’ see for thysel’ +(Never had grey horse to my name, Jack; but, thinks I, that’s _his’n_ +lookout.)” + +They went, did these simple troopers, to look at the stable, and sure +enough, there was no Grey Robin. Nevertheless, some amongst them had +logic enough to take this as something less than proof convincing, and +spent three hours and more ransacking the house and barn, and searching +the tor and the moors below it. I learn’d too, that Joan had come in for +some rough talk—to which she put a stop, as she told me, by offering +to fight any man Jack of them for the buttons on his buffcoat. And at +length, about sundown, they gave up the hunt, and road away over the +moors toward Warleggan, having (as the girl heard them say) to be at +Braddock before night. + +“Where is this Braddock?” + +“Nigh to Lord Mohun’s house at Boconnoc: seven mile away to the south, +and seven mile or so from Bodmin, as a crow flies.” + +“Then go I must,” cried I: and hereupon I broke out with all the +trouble that was on my mind, and the instant need to save these gallant +gentlemen of Cornwall, ere two armies should combine against them. +I told of the King’s letter in my breast, and how I found the Lord +Stamford’s men at Launceston; how that Ruthen, with the vanguard of the +rebels, was now at Liskeard, with but a bare day’s march between the +two, and none but I to carry the warning. And “Oh, Joan!” I cried, “my +comrade I left upon the road. Brighter courage and truer heart never +man proved, and yet left by me in the rebels’ hands. Alas! that I could +neither save nor help, but must still ride on: and here is the issue—to +lie struck down within ten mile of my goal—I, that have traveled two +hundred. And if the Cornishmen be not warned to give fight before Lord +Stamford come up, all’s lost. Even now they be outnumber’d. So lift me, +Joan, and set me astride Molly, and I’ll win to Bodmin yet.” + +“Reckon, Jack, thou’d best hand _me_ thy letter.” + +Now, I did not at once catch the intent of these words, so simply +spoken; but stared at her like an owl. + +“There’s horse in stall, lad,” she went on, “tho’ no Grey Robin. +Tearaway’s the name, and strawberry the color.” + +“But, Joan, Joan, if you do this—feel inside my coat here, to the +left—you will save an army, girl, maybe a throne! Here ’tis, Joan, +see—no, not that—here! Say the seal is that of the Governor of +Bristol, who stole it from me for a while: but the handwriting will be +known for the King’s: and no hand but yours must touch it till you stand +before Sir Ralph Hopton. The King shall thank you, Joan; and God will +bless you for’t.” + +“Hope so, I’m sure. But larn me what to say, lad: for I be main thick +witted.” + +So I told her the message over and over, till she had it by heart. + +“Shan’t forgit, now,” she said, at length; “an’ so hearken to me for a +change. Bide still, nor fret thysel’. Here’s pasty an’ oat cake, an’ a +keg o’ water that I’ll stow beside thee. Pay no heed to feyther, an’ if +he wills to get drunk an’ fight wi’ Jan Tergagle—that’s the cat—why +let’n. Drunk or sober, he’s no ’count.” + +She hid the letter in her bosom, and stepp’d to the door. On the +threshold she turned— + +“Jack—forgot to ax: what be all this bloodshed about?” + +“For Church and King, Joan.” + +“H’m: same knowledge ha’ I o’ both—an’ that’s naught. But I dearly +loves fair play.” + +She was gone. In a minute or so I heard the trampling of a horse: and +then, with a scurry of hoofs, Joan was off on the King’s errand, and +riding into the darkness. + +Little rest had I that night; but lay awake on my bracken bed and +watched the burning peat-turves turn to grey, and drop, flake by flake, +till only a glowing point remained. The door rattled now and then on the +hinge: out on the moor the light winds kept a noise persistent as town +dogs at midnight: and all the while my wound was stabbing, and the +bracken pricking me till I groaned aloud. + +As day began to break, the old man picked himself up, yawned and lounged +out, returning after a time with fresh turves for the hearth. He noticed +me no more than a stone, but when the fire was restack’d, drew up his +chair to the warmth, and breakfasted on oat cake and a liberal deal of +liquor. Observing him, the black cat uncoil’d, stretch’d himself, +and climbing to his master’s knee, sat there purring, and the best of +friends. I also judged it time to breakfast: found my store: took a +bite or two, and a pull at the keg, and lay back—this time to sleep. + +When I woke, ’twas high noon. The door stood open, and outside on the +wall the winter sunshine was lying, very bright and clear. Indoors, the +old savage had been drinking steadily; and still sat before the fire, +with the cat on one knee, and his keg on the other. I sat up and +strain’d my ears. Surely, if Joan had not failed, the royal generals +would march out and give battle at once: and surely, if they were +fighting, not ten miles away, some sound of it would reach me. But +beyond the purring of the cat, I heard nothing. + +I crawl’d to my feet, rested a moment to stay the giddiness, and +totter’d across to the door, where I lean’d, listening and gazing south. +No strip of vapor lay on the moors that stretch’d—all bathed in the +most wonderful bright colors—to the lip of the horizon. The air was +like a sounding board. I heard the bleat of an old wether, a mile off, +upon the tors; and was turning away dejected, when, far down in the +south, there ran a sound that set my heart leaping. + +’Twas the crackling of musketry. + +There was no mistaking it. The noise ran like wildfire along the hills: +before echo could overtake it, a low rumbling followed, and then the +brisker crackling again. I caught at the door post and cried, faint with +the sudden joy— + +“Thou angel, Joan!—thou angel!” + +And then, as something took me by the throat—“Joan, Joan—to see what +thou seest!” + +A long time I lean’d by the door post there, drinking in the sound that +now was renewed at quicker intervals. Yet, for as far as I could see, +’twas the peacefullest scene, though dreary—quiet sunshine on the +hills, and the sheep dotted here and there, cropping. But down yonder, +over the edge of the moors, men were fighting and murdering each other: +and I yearn’d to see how the day went. + +Being both weak and loth to miss a sound of it, I sank down on the +threshold, and there lay, with my eyes turned southward, through a gap +in the stone fence. In a while the musketry died away, and I wondered: +but thought I could still at times mark a low sound as of men shouting, +and this, as I learn’d after, was the true battle. + +It must have been an hour or more before I saw a number of black specks +coming over the ridge of hills, and swarming down into the plain toward +me: and then a denser body following. ’Twas a company of horse, moving +at a great pace: and I guessed that the battle was done, and these were +the first fugitives of the beaten army. + +On they came, in great disorder, scattering as they advanced: and now, +in parts, the hill behind was black with footmen, running. ’Twas a rout, +sure enough. Once or twice, on the heights, I heard a bugle blown, as if +to rally the crowd: but saw nothing come of it, and presently the notes +ceased, or I forgot to listen. + +The foremost company of horse was heading rather to the eastward of +me, to gain the high road; and the gross pass’d me by at half a mile’s +distance. But some came nearer, and to my extreme joy, I learn’d from +their arms and shouting, what till now I had been eagerly hoping, that +’twas the rebel army thus running in rout: and tho’ now without strength +to kneel, I had enough left to thank God heartily. + +’Twas so curious to see the plain thus suddenly fill’d with rabble, +all running from the south, and the silly startled sheep rushing +helter-skelter, and huddling together on the tors above, that I forgot +my own likely danger if any of this revengeful crew should come upon me +lying there: and was satisfied to watch them as they straggled over the +moors toward the road. Some pass’d close to the cottage; but none seem’d +anxious to pause there. ’Twas a glad and a sorry sight. I saw a troop of +dragoons with a standard in their midst; and a drummer running behind, +too far distracted even to cast his drum away, so that it dangled +against his back, with a great rent where the music had been; and then +two troopers running together; and one that was wounded lay down for a +while within a stone’s throw of me, and would not go further, till at +last his comrade persuaded him; and after them a larger company, in +midst of whom was a man crying, “We are sold, I tell ye, and I can point +to the man!” and so passed by. There were some, too, that were galloping +three stout horses in a carriage, and upon it a brass twelve pounder. +But the carriage stuck fast in a quag, and so they cut the traces and +left it there, where, two days after, Sir John Berkeley’s dragoons found +and pulled it out. And this was the fourth, I had heard, that the King’s +troops took in that victory. + +Yet there were not above five or six hundred in all that I saw; and I +guessed (as was the case) that this must be but an off-shoot, so to say, +of the bigger rout that pass’d eastward through Liskeard. I was thinking +of this when I heard footsteps near, and a man came panting through a +gap in the wall, into the yard. + +He was a big, bareheaded fellow, exceedingly flush’d with running, but +unhurt, as far as I could see. Indeed, he might easily have kill’d me, +and for a moment I thought sure he would. But catching sight of me, +he nodded very friendly, and sitting on a heap of stones a yard or two +away, began to draw off his boot, and search for a prickle, that it +seem’d had got into it. + +“’Tis a mess of it, yonder,” said he, quietly, and jerk’d his thumb over +his shoulder. + +By the look of me, he could tell I was on the other side; but this did +not appear to concern him. + +“How has it gone?” asked I. + +“Well,” says he, with his nose in the boot; “we had a pretty rising +ground, and the Cornishmen march’d up and whipp’d us out—that’s +all—and took a mort o’ prisoners.” He found the prickle, drew on his +boot again, and asked— + +“T’other side?” + +I nodded. + +“That’s the laughing side, this day. Good evening.” + +And with that he went off as fast as he came. + +’Twas, may be, an hour after, that another came in through the same +gap: this time a lean, hawk-eyed man, with a pinch’d face and two ugly +gashes—one across the brow from left eye to the roots of his hair, the +other in his leg below the knee, that had sliced through boot and flesh +like a scythe-cut. His face was smear’d with blood, and he carried a +musket. + +“Water!” he bark’d out as he came trailing into the yard. “Give me +water—I’m a dead man!” + +He was stepping over me to enter the kitchen, when he halted and said— + +“Art a malignant, for certain!” + +And before I had a chance to reply, his musket was swung up, and I felt +my time was come to die. + +But now the old savage, that had been sitting all day before his fire, +without so much as a sign to show if he noticed aught that was passing, +jump’d up with a yell and leap’d toward us. He and the cat were on the +poor wretch together, tearing and clawing. I can hear their hellish +outcries to this day: but at the moment they turn’d me faint. And the +next thing I recall is being dragged inside by the old man, who shut the +door after me and slipp’d the bolt, leaving the wounded trooper on the +other side. He beat against it for some time, sobbing piteously for +water: and then I heard him groaning at intervals, till he died. At +least, the groans ceased; and next day he was found with his back +against the cottage wall, stark and dead. + +Having pulled me inside, Joan’s father must have thought he had done +enough: for on the floor I lay for hours, and passed from one swoon into +another. He and the cat had gone back to the fire again, and long before +evening both were sound asleep. + +So there I lay helpless, till, at nightfall, there came the trampling of +a horse outside, and then a rap on the door. The old man started up and +opened it: and in rushed Joan, her eyes lit up, her breast heaving, and +in her hand a naked sword. + +“Church and King, Jack!” she cried, and flung the blade with a clang on +to the table. “Church and King! O brave day’s work, lad—O bloody work +this day!” + +And I swooned again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL +TINGCOMB. + + +There had, indeed, been brave work on Braddock Down that 19th of +January. For Sir Ralph Hopton with the Cornish grandees had made short +business of Ruthen’s army—driving it headlong back on Liskeard at the +first charge, chasing it through that town, and taking 1,200 prisoners +(including Sir Shilston Calmady), together with many colors, all the +rebel ordnance and ammunition, and most of their arms. At Liskeard, +after refreshing their men, and holding next day a solemn thanksgiving +to God, they divided—the Lord Mohun with Sir Ralph Hopton and Colonel +Godolphin marching with the greater part of the army upon Saltash, +whither Ruthen had fled and was entrenching himself; while Sir John +Berkeley and Colonel Ashburnham, with a small party of horse and +dragoons and the voluntary regiments of Sir Bevill Grenville, Sir +Nich. Slanning, and Colonel Trevanion, turned to the northeast, toward +Launceston and Tavistock, to see what account they might render of the +Earl of Stamford’s army; that, however, had no stomach to await them, +but posted out of the county into Plymouth and Exeter. + +’Twas on this expedition that two or three of the captains I have +mentioned halted for an hour or more at Temple, as well to recognize +Joan’s extreme meritorious service, as to thank me for the part I had +in bringing news of the Earl of Stamford’s advance. For ’twas this, they +own’d, had saved them—the King’s message being but an exhortation +and an advertisement upon some lesser matters, the most of which were +already taken out of human hands by the turn of events. + +But though, as I learn’d, these gentlemen were full of compliments and +professions of esteem, I neither saw nor heard them, being by this time +delirious of a high fever that followed my wound. And not till three +good weeks after, was I recover’d enough to leave my bed, nor, for many +more, did my full strength return to me. No mother could have made a +tenderer nurse than was Joan throughout this time. ’Tis to her I owe it +that I am alive to write these words: and if the tears scald my eyes as +I do so, you will pardon them, I promise, before the end of my tail is +reach’d. + +In the first days of my recovery, news came to us (I forget how) that +a solemn sacrament had been taken between the parties in Devon and +Cornwall, and the country was at peace. Little I cared, at the time: but +was content—now spring was come—to loiter about the tors, and while +watching Joan at her work, to think upon Delia. For, albeit I had little +hope to see her again, my late pretty comrade held my thoughts the day +long. I shared them with nobody: for tho’ ’tis probable I had let some +words fall in my delirium, Joan never hinted at this, and I never found +out. + +To Joan’s company I was left: for her father, after saving my life that +afternoon, took no further notice of me by word or deed; and the cat, +Jan Tergagle (nam’d after a spirit that was said to haunt the moors +hereabouts), was as indifferent. So with Joan I passed the days idly, +tending the sheep, or waiting on her as she ploughed, or lying full +length on the hillside and talking with her of war and battles. ’Twas +the one topic on which she was curious (scoffing at me when I offered to +teach her to read print), and for hours she would listen to stories +of Alexander and Hannibal, Caesar and Joan of Arc, and other great +commanders whose history I remember’d. + +One evening—’twas early in May—we had climb’d to the top of the +grey tor above Temple, whence we could spy the white sails of the two +Channels moving, and, stretch’d upon the short turf there, I was telling +my usual tale. Joan lay beside me, her chin propp’d on one earth-stain’d +hand, her great solemn eyes wide open as she listened. Till that moment +I had regarded her rather as a man comrade than a girl, but now some +feminine trick of gesture awoke me perhaps, for my fancy began to +contrast her with Delia, and I broke off my story and sigh’d. + +“Art longing to be hence?” she asked. + +I felt ashamed to be thus caught, and was silent. She look’d at me and +went on— + +“Speak out, lad.” + +“Loth would I be to leave you, Joan.” + +“And why?” + +“Why, we are good friends, I hope: and I am grateful.” + +“Oh, aye—wish thee’d learn to speak the truth, Jack. Art longing to be +hence, and shalt—soon.” + +“Why, Joan, you would not have me dwell here always?” + +She made no answer for a while, and then with a change of tone— + +“Shalt ride wi’ me to Bodmin Fair to-morrow for a treat, an’ see the +Great Turk and the Fat ’Ooman and hocus-pocus. So tell me more ’bout +Joan the Frenchwoman.” + +On the morrow, about nine in the morning, we set off—Joan on the +strawberry, balanced easily on an old sack, which was all her saddle; +and I on Molly, that now was sound again and chafing to be so idle. As +we set out, Joan’s father for the first time took some notice of me, +standing at the door to see us off and shouting after us to bring home +some account of the wrestling. Looking back at a quarter mile’s distance +I saw him still fram’d in the doorway, with the cat perch’d on his +shoulder. + +Bodmin town is naught but a narrow street, near on a mile long, and +widening toward the western end. It lies mainly along the south side of +a steep vale, and this May morning as Joan and I left the moors and rode +down to it from northward, already we could hear trumpets blowing, the +big drum sounding, and all the bawling voices and hubbub of the fair. +Descending, we found the long street lin’d with booths and shows, and +nigh blocked with the crowd: for the revel began early and was now in +full swing. And the crew of gipsies, whifflers, mountebanks, fortune +tellers, cut-purses and quacks, mix’d up with honest country faces, beat +even the rabble I had seen at Wantage. + +Now my own first business was with a tailor: for the clothes I wore +when I rode into Temple, four months back, had been so sadly messed with +blood, and afterward cut, to free them from my wound, that now all the +tunic I wore was of sackcloth, contrived and stitch’d together by Joan. +So I made at once for a decent shop, where luckily I found a suit to +fit me, one taken (the tailor said) off a very promising young gentleman +that had the misfortune to be kill’d on Braddock Down. Arrayed in this, +I felt myself again, and offered to take Joan to see the Fat Woman. + +We saw her, and the Aethiop, and the Rhinoceros (which put me in mind +of poor Anthony Killigrew), and the Pig-fac’d Baby, and the Cudgel play; +and presently halted before a Cheap Jack, that was crying his wares in a +prodigious loud voice, near the town wall. + +’Twas a meagre, sharp-visag’d fellow with a grey chin beard like a billy +goat’s; and (as fortune would have it) spying our approach, he +picked out a mirror from his stock and holding it aloft, addressed us +straight— + +“What have we here,” cries he, “but a pair o’ lovers coming? and what +i’ my hand but a lover’s hourglass? Sure the stars of heav’n must have a +hand in this conjuncture—and only thirteen pence, my pretty fellow, for +a glass that will tell the weather i’ your sweetheart’s face, and help +make it fine.” + +There were many country fellows with their maids in the crowd, that +turned their heads at this address; and as usual the women began. + +“Tis Joan o’ the Tor!” + +“Joan’s picked up wi’ a sweetheart—tee-hee!—an’ us reckoned her’d +forsworn mankind!” + +“Who is he?” + +“Some furriner, sure: that likes garlic.” + +“He’s bought her no ribbons yet.” + +“How should he, poor lad; that can find no garments upon her to fasten +’em to?” + +And so on, with a deal of spiteful laughter. Some of these sayings +were half truth, no doubt: but the truthfullest word may be infelix. +So noting a dark flush on Joan’s cheek, I thought to end the scene by +taking the Cheap Jack’s mirror on the spot, to stop his tongue, and then +drawing her away. + +But in this I was a moment too late; for just as I reached up my hand +with the thirteen pence, and the grinning fellow on the platform bent +forward with his mirror, I heard a coarser jest, a rush in the crowd, +and two heads go _crack!_ together like eggs. ’Twas two of Joan’s +tormentors she had taken by the hair and served so: and dropping them +the next instant had caught the Cheap Jack’s beard, as you might a bell +rope, and wrench’d him head-foremost off his stand, my thirteen pence +flying far and wide. Plump he fell into the crowd, that scatter’d on all +hands as Joan pummelled him: and _whack, whack!_ fell the blows on the +poor idiot’s face, who scream’d for mercy, as though Judgment Day were +come. + +No one, for the minute, dared to step between them: and presently Joan +looking up, with arm raised for another buffet, spied a poor Astrologer +close by, in a red and yellow gown, that had been reading fortunes in a +tub of black water beside him, but was now broken off, dismayed at the +hubbub. To this tub she dragged the Cheap Jack and sent him into it with +a round souse. The black water splashed right and left over the crowd. +Then, her wrath sated, Joan faced the rest, with hands on hips, and +waited for them to come on. + +Not a word had she spoken, from first to last: but stood now with hot +cheeks and bosom heaving. Then, finding none to take up her challenge, +she strode out through the folk, and I after her, with the mirror in my +hand; while the Cheap Jack picked himself out of the tub, whining, and +the Astrologer wip’d his long white beard and soil’d robe. + +Outside the throng was a carriage, stopp’d for a minute by this tumult, +and a servant at the horses’ heads. By the look of it, ’twas the coach +of some person of quality; and glancing at it I saw inside an old +gentleman with a grave venerable face, seated. For the moment it flash’d +on me I had seen him before, somewhere: and cudgell’d my wits to +think where it had been. But a second and longer gaze assured me I was +mistaken, and I went on down the street after Joan. + +She was walking fast and angry; nor when I caught her up and tried to +soothe, would she answer me but in the shortest words. Woman’s justice, +as I had just learn’d, has this small defect—it goes straight enough, +but mainly for the wrong object. Which now I proved in my own case. + +“Where are you going, Joan?” + +“To ‘Fifteen Balls’’ stable, for my horse.” + +“Art not leaving the fair yet, surely!” + +“That I be, tho’. Have had fairing enow—wi’ a man!” + +Nor for a great part of the way home would she speak to me. But meeting, +by Pound Scawens (a hamlet close to the road), with some friends going +to the fair, she stopp’d for a while to chat with them, whilst I rode +forward: and when she overtook me, her brow was clear again. + +“Am a hot headed fool, Jack, and have spoil’d thy day for thee.” + +“Nay, that you have not,” said I, heartily glad to see her humble, for +the first time in our acquaintance: “but if you have forgiven me that +which I could not help, you shall take this that I bought for you, in +proof.” + +And pulling out the mirror, I lean’d over and handed it to her. + +“What i’ the world be this?” she ask’d, taking and looking at it +doubtfully. + +“Why, a mirror.” + +“What’s that?” + +“A glass to see your face in,” I explained. + +“Be this my face?” She rode forward, holding up the glass in front +of her. “Why, what a handsome looking gal I be, to be sure! Jack, art +certain ’tis my very own face?” + +“To be sure,” said I amazed. + +“Well!” There was silence for a full minute, save for our horses’ tread +on the high road. And then— + +“Jack, I be powerful dirty!” + +This was true enough, and it made me laugh. She looked up solemnly at my +mirth (having no sense of a joke, then or ever) and bent forward to the +glass again. + +“By the way,” said I, “did you mark a carriage just outside the crowd, +by the Cheap Jack’s booth?—with a white-hair’d gentleman seated +inside?” + +Joan nodded. “Master Hannibal Tingcomb: steward o’ Gleys.” + +“What!” + +I jumped in my saddle, and with a pull at the bridle brought Molly to a +standstill. + +“Of Gleys?” I cried. “Steward of Sir Deakin Killigrew that was?” + +“Right, lad, except the last word. ‘That _is_,’ should’st rather say.” + +“Then you are wrong, Joan: for he’s dead and buried, these five months. +Where is this house of Gleys? for to-morrow I must ride there.” + +“’Tis easy found, then: for it stands on the south coast yonder, and +no house near it: five mile from anywhere, and sixteen from Temple, due +south. Shall want thee afore thou startest, Jack. Dear, now! who’d ha’ +thought I was so dirty?” + +The cottage door stood open as we rode into the yard, and from it a +faint smoke came curling, with a smell of peat. Within I found the +smould’ring turves scattered about as on the day of my first arrival, +and among them Joan’s father stretch’d, flat on his face: only this time +the cat was curl’d up quietly, and lying between the old man’s shoulder +blades. + +“Drunk again,” said Joan shortly. + +But looking more narrowly, I marked a purplish stain on the ground by +the old man’s mouth, and turned him softly over. + +“Joan,” said I, “he’s not drunk—he’s dead!” + +She stood above us and looked down, first at the corpse, then at me, +without speaking for a time: at last— + +“Then I reckon he may so well be buried.” + +“Girl,” I call’d out, being shocked at this callousness, “’tis your +father—and he is dead!” + +“Why that’s so, lad. An he were alive, shouldn’t trouble thee to bury +’n.” + +And so, before night, we carried him up to the bleak tor side, and dug +his grave there; the black cat following us to look. Five feet deep we +laid him, having dug down to solid rock; and having covered him over, +went silently back to the hovel. Joan had not shed a single tear. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS. + + +Very early next morning I awoke, and hearing no sound in the loft above +(whither, since my coming, Joan had carried her bed), concluded her to +be still asleep. But in this I was mistaken: for going to the well at +the back to wash, I found her there, studying her face in the mirror. + +“Luckily met, Jack,” she said, when I was cleansed and freshly glowing: +“Now fill another bucket and sarve me the same.” + +“Cannot you wash yourself?” I ask’d, as I did so. + +“Lost the knack, I reckon. Stand thee so, an’ slush the water over me.” + +“But your clothes!” I cried out, “they’ll be soaking wet!” + +“Clothes won’t be worse for a wash, neither. So slush away.” + +Therefore, standing at three paces’ distance, I sent a bucketful over +her, and then another and another. Six times I filled and emptied the +bucket in all: and at the end she was satisfied, and went, dripping, +back to the kitchen to get me my breakfast. + +“Art early abroad,” she said, as we sat together over the meal. + +“Yes, for I must ride to Gleys this morning.” + +“Shan’t be sorry to miss thee for a while. Makes me feel so shy—this +cleanliness.” So, promising to be back by nightfall, I went presently to +saddle Molly: and following Joan’s directions and her warnings against +quags and pitfalls, was soon riding south across the moor and well on my +road to the House of Gleys. + +My way leading me by Braddock Down, I turned aside for a while to +examine the ground of the late fight (tho’ by now little was to be seen +but a piece of earthwork left unfinish’d by the rebels, and the fresh +mounds where the dead were laid); and so ’twas high noon—and a dull, +cheerless day—before the hills broke and let me have sight of the sea. +Nor, till the noise of the surf was in my ears, did I mark the chimneys +and naked grey walls of the house I was bound for. + +’Twas a gloomy, savage pile of granite, perch’d at the extremity of a +narrow neck of land, where every wind might sweep it, and the waves beat +on three sides the cliff below. The tide was now at the full, almost, +and the spray flying in my face, as we crossed the head of a small +beach, forded a stream, and scrambled up the rough road to the entrance +gate. + +A thin line of smoke blown level from one chimney was all the sign of +life in the building: for the narrow lights of the upper story were +mostly shuttered, and the lower floor was hid from me by a high wall +enclosing a courtlage in front. One stunted ash, with boughs tortured +and bent toward the mainland, stood by the gate, which was lock’d. A +smaller door, also lock’d, was let into the gate, and in this again a +shuttered iron grating. Hard by, dangled a rusty bell-pull, at which I +tugg’d sturdily. + +On this, a crack’d bell sounded, far in the house, and scared a flock of +starlings out of a disused chimney. Their cries died away presently, and +left no sound but that of the gulls wailing about the cliff at my feet. +This was all the answer I won. + +I rang again, and a third time: and now at last came the sound of +footsteps shuffling across the court within. The shutter of the grating +was slipp’d back, and a voice, crack’d as the bell, asked my business. + +“To see Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” answered I. + +“Thy name?” + +“He shall hear it in time. Say that I come on business concerning the +estate.” + +The voice mutter’d something, and the footsteps went back. I had been +kicking my heels there for twenty minutes or more when they returned, +and the voice repeated the question— + +“Thy name?” + +Being by this time angered, I did a foolish thing; which was, to clap +the muzzle of my pistol against the grating, close to the fellow’s nose. +Singular to say, the trick serv’d me. A bolt was slipp’d hastily back +and the wicket door opened stealthily. + +“I want,” said I, “room for my horse to pass.” + +Thereupon more grumbling follow’d, and a prodigious creaking of bolts +and chains; after which the big gate swung stiffly back. + +“Sure, you must be worth a deal,” I said, “that shut yourselves in so +careful.” + +Before me stood a strange fellow—extraordinary old and bent, with a +wizen’d face, one eye only, and a chin that almost touched his nose. He +wore a dirty suit of livery, that once had been canary-yellow; and shook +with the palsy. + +“Master Tingcomb will see the young man,” he squeak’d, nodding his head; +“but is a-reading just now in his Bible.” + +“A pretty habit,” answered I, leading in Molly—“if unseasonable. But +why not have said so?” + +He seem’d to consider this for a while, and then said abruptly— + +“Have some pasty and some good cider?” + +“Why yes,” I said, “with all my heart, when I have stabled the sorrel +here.” + +He led the way across the court, well paved but chok’d with weeds, +toward the stable. I found it a spacious building, and counted sixteen +stalls there; but all were empty save two, where stood the horses I had +seen in Bodmin the day before. Having stabled Molly, I left the place +(which was thick with cobwebs) and follow’d the old servant into the +house. + +He took me into a great stone kitchen, and brought out the pasty and +cider, but poured out half a glass only. + +“Have a care, young man: ’tis a luscious, thick, seductive drink,” and +he chuckled. + +“’Twould turn the edge of a knife,” said I, tasting it and looking at +him: but his one blear’d eye was inscrutable. The pasty also was mouldy, +and I soon laid it down. + +“Hast a proud stomach that cometh of faring sumptuously: the beef +therein is our own killing,” said he. “Young sir, art a man of blood, I +greatly fear, by thy long sword and handiness with the firearms.” + +“Shall be presently,” answered I, “if you lead me not to Master +Tingcomb.” + +He scrambled up briskly and totter’d out of the kitchen into a stone +corridor, I after him. Along this he hurried, muttering all the way, and +halted before a door at the end. Without knocking he pushed it open, and +motioning me to enter, hasten’d back as he had come. + +“Come in,” said a voice that seem’d familiar to me. + +Though, as you know, ’twas still high day, in the room where now I found +myself was every appearance of night: the shutters being closed, and +six lighted candles standing on the table. Behind them sat the venerable +gentleman whom I had seen in the coach, now wearing a plain suit of +black, and reading in a great book that lay open on the table. I guess’d +it to be the Bible; but noted that the candles had shades about them, +so disposed as to throw the light, not on the page, but on the doorway +where I stood. + +Yet the old gentleman, having bid me enter, went on reading for a while +as though wholly unaware of me: which I found somewhat nettling, so +began— + +“I speak, I believe, to Master Hannibal Tingcomb, steward to Sir Deakin +Killigrew.” + +He went on, as if ending his sentence aloud: “... And my darling from +the power of the dog.” Here he paused with finger on the place and +looked up. “Yes, young sir, that is my name—steward to the late Sir +Deakin Killigrew.” + +“The late?” cried I: “Then you know—” + +“Surely I know that Sir Deakin is dead: else should I be but an unworthy +steward.” He open’d his grave eyes as if in wonder. + +“And his son, also?” + +“Also his son Anthony, a headstrong boy, I fear me, a consorter with +vile characters. Alas? that I should say it.” + +“And his daughter, Mistress Delia?” + +“Alas!” and he fetched a deep sigh. + +“Do you mean, sir, that she too is dead!” + +“Why, to be sure-but let us talk on less painful matters.” + +“In one moment, sir: but first tell me—where did she die, and when?” + +For my heart stood still, and I was fain to clutch the table between us +to keep me from falling. I think this did not escape him, for he gave me +a sharp look, and then spoke very quiet and hush’d, + +“She was cruelly kill’d by highwaymen, at the ‘Three Cups’ inn, some +miles out of Hungerford. The date given me is the 3d of December last.” + +With this a great rush of joy came over me, and I blurted out, +delighted— + +“There, sir, you are wrong! Her father was kill’d on the night of which +you speak—cruelly enough, as you say: but Mistress Delia Killigrew +escaped, and after the most incredible adventures—” + +I was expecting him to start up with joy at my announcement; but instead +of this, he gaz’d at me very sorrowfully and shook his head; which +brought me to a stand. + +“Sir,” I said, changing my tone, “I speak but what I know: for ’twas I +had the happy fortune to help her to escape, and, under God’s hand, to +bring her safe to Cornwall.” + +“Then, where is she now?” + +Now this was just what I could not tell. So, standing before him, I +gave him my name and a history of all my adventures in my dear comrade’s +company, from the hour when I saw her first in the inn at Hungerford. +Still keeping his finger on the page, he heard me to the end +attentively, but with a curling of the lips toward the close, such as I +did not like. And when I had done, to my amaze he spoke out sharply, and +as if to a whipp’d schoolboy. + +“’Tis a cock-and-bull story, sir, of which I could hope to make you +ashamed. Six weeks in your company? and in boy’s habit? Surely ’twas +enough the pure unhappy maid should be dead—without such vile slander +on her fame, and from you, that were known, sir, to have been at that +inn, and on that night, with her murderers. Boy, I have evidence that, +taken with your confession, would weave you a halter; and am a Justice +of the Peace. Be thankful, then, that I am a merciful man; yet be +abash’d.” + +Abash’d, indeed, I was; or at least taken aback, to see his holy +indignation and the flush on his waxen cheek. Like a fool I stood +staggered, and wondered dimly where I had heard that thin voice before. +In the confusion of my senses I heard it say solemnly— + +“The sins of her fathers have overtaken her, as the Book of Exodus +proclaim’d: therefore is her inheritance wasted, and given to the satyr +and the wild ass.” + +[Illustration: “What did you in Oxford last November?”—Page 219.] + +“And which of the twain be you, sir?” + +I cannot tell what forced this violent rudeness from me, for he seem’d +an honest, good man; but my heart was boiling that any should put so +ill a construction on my Delia. As for him, he had risen, and was moving +with dignity to the door—to show me out, as I guess. When suddenly I, +that had been staring stupidly, leap’d upon him and hurled him back into +his chair. + +For I had marked his left foot trailing, and, by the token, knew him for +the white hair’d man of the bowling-green. + +“Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” I spoke in his ear, “—dog and murderer! +What did you in Oxford last November? And how of Captain Lucius Higgs, +otherwise Captain Luke Settle, otherwise Mr. X.? Speak, before I serve +you as the dog was served that night!” + +I dream yet, in my sick nights, of the change that came over the vile, +hypocritical knave at these words of mine. To see his pale venerable +face turn green and livid, his eyeball start, his hands clutch at +air—it frighten’d me. + +“Brandy!” he gasped. “Brandy! there—quick—for God’s sake!” + +And the next moment he had slipp’d from my grasp, and was wallowing in +a fit on the floor. I ran to the cupboard at which he had pointed, and +finding there a bottle of strong waters, forced some drops between his +teeth; and hard work it was, he gnashing at me all the time and foaming +at the mouth. + +Presently he ceased to writhe and bite: and lifting, I set him in his +chair, where he lay, a mere limp bundle, staring and blinking. So I sat +down facing him, and waited his recovery. + +“Dear young sir,” he began at length feebly, his fingers searching the +Bible before him, from force of habit. “Kind young sir—I am an old, +dying man, and my sins have found me out. Only yesterday, the physician +at Bodmin told me that my days are numbered. This is the second attack, +and the third will kill me.” + +“Well?” said I. + +“If—if Mistress Delia be alive (as indeed I did not think), I will make +restitution—I will confess—only tell me what to do, that I may die in +peace.” + +Indeed, he look’d pitiable, sitting there and stammering: but I harden’d +my heart to say— + +“I must have a confession, then, written before I leave the room.” + +“But, dear young friend, you will not use it if I give up all? You will +not seek my life? that already is worthless, as you see.” + +“Why, ’tis what you deserve. But Delia shall say when I find her—as +I shall go straight to seek her. If she be lost, I shall use it—never +fear: if she be found, it shall be hers to say what mercy she can +discover in her heart; but I promise you I shall advise none.” + +The tears by this were coursing down his shrunken cheeks, but I observ’d +him watch me narrowly, as though to find out how much I knew. So I +pull’d out my pistol, and setting pen and paper before him, obtained +at the end of an hour a very pretty confession of his sins, which lies +among my papers to this day. When ’twas written and sign’d, in a weak, +rambling hand, I read it through, folded it, placed it inside my coat, +and prepared to take my leave. + +But he called out an order to the old servant to saddle my mare, and +stood softly praying and beseeching me in the courtyard till the last +moment. Nor when I was mounted would anything serve but he must follow +at my stirrup to the gate. But when I had briefly taken leave, and the +heavy doors had creaked behind me, I heard a voice calling after me down +the road— + +“Dear young sir! Dear friend!—I had forgotten somewhat.” + +Returning, I found the gate fastened, and the iron shutter slipp’d back. + +“Well?” I asked, leaning toward it. + +“Dear young friend, I pity thee, for thy paper is worthless. To-day, by +my advices, the army of our most Christian Parliament, more than twenty +thousand strong, under the Earl of Stamford, have overtaken thy friends, +the malignant gentry, near Stratton Heath, in the northeast. They are +more than two to one. By this hour to-morrow, the Papists all will be +running like conies to their burrows, and little chance wilt thou have +to seek Delia Killigrew, much less to find her. And remember, I know +enough of thy late services to hang thee: mercy then will lie in my +friends’ hands; but be sure I shall advise none.” + +And with a mocking laugh he clapp’d—to the grating in my face. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS. + + +You may guess how I felt at being thus properly fooled. And the worst +was I could see no way to mend it; for against the barricade between us +I might have beat myself for hours, yet only hurt my fists: and the wall +was so smooth and high, that even by standing on Molly’s back I could +not—by a foot or more—reach the top to pull myself over. + +There was nothing for it but to turn homewards, down the hill: which I +did, chewing the cud of my folly, and finding it bitter as gall. What +consoled me somewhat was the reflection that his threats were, likely +enough, mere vaporing: for of any breach of the late compact between +the parties I had heard nothing, and never seem’d a country more wholly +given up to peace than that through which I had ridden in the morning. +So recalling Master Tingcomb’s late face of terror, and the confession +in my pocket, I felt more cheerful. “England has grown a strange place, +if I cannot get justice on this villain,” thought I; and rode forward, +planning a return-match and a sweet revenge. + +There is no more soothing game, I believe, in the world than this of +holding imaginary triumphant discourse with your enemy. Yet (oddly) it +brought me but cold comfort on this occasion, my wound being too recent +and galling. The sky, so long clouded, was bright’ning now, and growing +serener every minute: the hills were thick with fox-gloves, the vales +white with hawthorn, smelling very sweetly in the cool of the day: but +I, with the bridle flung on Molly’s neck, pass’d them by, thinking only +of my discomfiture, and barely rousing myself to give back a “Good-day” + to those that met me on the road. Nor, till we were on the downs and +Joan’s cottage came in sight, did I shake the brooding off. + +Joan was not in the kitchen when I arrived, nor about the buildings; nor +yet could I spy her anywhere moving on the hills. So, after calling to +her once or twice, I stabled the mare, and set off up the tor side to +seek her. + +Now I must tell you that since the day of my coming I had made many +attempts to find the place where Joan had then hidden me, and always +fruitlessly: though I knew well whereabouts it must be. Indeed, I had +thought at first I had only to walk straight to the hole: yet found +after repeated trials but solid earth and boulders for my pains. + +But to-day as I climb’d past the spot, something very bright flashed in +my eyes and dazzled me, and rubbing them and looking, I saw a great hole +in the hill—facing to the sou’-west—in the very place I had search’d +for it; and out of this a beam of light glancing. + +Creeping near on tiptoe, I found one huge block of granite that before +had seemed bedded, among a dozen fellow-boulders, against the turf—the +base resting on another well-nigh as big—was now rolled back; having +been fixed to work smoothly on a pivot, yet so like nature that no eye, +but by chance, could detect it. Now, who in the beginning designed this +hiding place I leave you to consider; and whether it was the Jews or +Phoenicians—nations, I am told, that once work’d the hills around for +tin. But inside ’twas curiously paved and lined with slabs of granite, +the specks of ore in which, I noted, were the points of light that had +once puzzled me. And here was Joan’s bower, and Joan herself inside it. + +She was sitting with her back to me, in her left hand holding up the +mirror, that caught the rays of the now sinking sun (and thus had +dazzled me), while with her right she tried to twist into some form of +knot her tresses—black, and coarse as a horse’s mane—that already she +had roughly braided. A pail of water stood beside her; and around lay +scatter’d a score or more of long thorns, cut to the shape of hair pins. + +’Tis probable that after a minute’s watching I let some laughter escape +me. At any rate Joan turned, spied me, and scrambled up, with an angry +red on her cheek. Then I saw that her bodice was neater lac’d than +usual, and a bow of yellow ribbon (fish’d up heaven knows whence) stuck +in the bosom. But the strangest thing was to note the effect of this new +tidiness upon her: for she took a step forward as if to cuff me by the +ear (as, a day agone, she would have done), and then stopp’d, very shy +and hesitating. + +“Why, Joan,” said I, “don’t be anger’d. It suits you choicely—it does +indeed.” + +“Art scoffing, I doubt.” She stood looking heavily and askance at me. + +“On my faith, no: and what a rare tiring-bower the Jew’s Kitchen makes! +Come, Joan, be debonair and talk to me, for I am out of luck to-day.” + +“Forgit it, then” (and she pointed to the sun), “whiles yet some o’t is +left. Tell me a tale, an thou’rt minded.” + +“Of what?” + +“O’ the bloodiest battle thou’st ever heard tell on.” + +So, sitting by the mouth of the Jew’s Kitchen, I told her as much as I +could remember out of Homer’s Iliad, wondering the while what my tutor, +Mr. Josias How, of Trinity College, would think to hear me so use his +teaching. By-and-bye, as I warm’d to the tale, Joan forgot her new +smartness; and at length, when Hector was running from Achilles round +the walls, clapp’d her hands for excitement, crying, “Church an’ King, +lad! Oh, brave work!” + +“Why, no,” answered I, “’twas not for that they were fighting;” and +looking at her, broke off with, “Joan, art certainly a handsome girl: +give me a kiss for the mirror.” + +Instead of flying out, as I look’d for, she fac’d round, and answered me +gravely— + +“That I will not: not to any but my master.” + +“And who is that?” + +“No man yet; nor shall be till one has beat me sore: him will I love, +an’ follow like a dog—if so be he whack me often enow’.” + +“A strange way to love,” laughed I. + +She look’d at me straight, albeit with an odd gloomy light in her eyes. + +“Think so, Jack? then I give thee leave to try.” + +I think there is always a brutality lurking in a man to leap out +unawares. Yet why do I seek excuses, that have never yet found one? To +be plain, I sprang fiercely up and after Joan, who had already started, +and was racing along the slope. + +Twice around the tor she led me: and though I strain’d my best, not +a yard could I gain upon her, for her bare feet carried her light and +free. Indeed, I was losing ground, when coming to the Jew’s Kitchen a +second time, she tried to slip inside and shut the stone in my face. + +Then should I have been prettily bemock’d, had I not, with a great +effort, contrived to thrust my boot against the door just as it was +closing. Wrenching it open, I laid hand on her shoulder; and in a moment +she had gripp’d me, and was wrestling like a wild-cat. + +Now being Cumberland-bred I knew only the wrestling of my own county, +and nothing of the Cornish style. For in the north they stand well +apart, and try to wear down one another’s strength: whereas the Cornish +is a brisker lighter play—and (as I must confess) prettier to watch. +So when Joan rush’d in and closed with me, I was within an ace of being +thrown, pat. + +But recovering, I got her at arm’s length, and held her so, while my +heart ach’d to see my fingers gripping her shoulders and sinking into +the flesh. I begg’d off; but she only fought and panted, and struggled +to lock me by the ankles again. I could not have dream’d to find such +fierce strength in a girl. Once or twice she nearly overmastered me: but +at length my stubborn play wore her out. Her breath came short and fast, +then fainter: and in the end, still holding her off, I turned her by the +shoulders, and let her drop quietly on the turf. No thought had I any +longer of kissing her; but stood back, heartily sick and ashamed of +myself. + +For awhile she lay, turn’d over on her side, with hands guarding her +head, as if expecting me to strike her. Then gathering herself up, she +came and put her hand in mine, very meekly. + +“Had lik’d it better had’st thou stamped the life out o’ me, a’most. But +there, lad—am thine forever!” + +’Twas like a buffet in the face to me. “What!” I cried. + +She look’d up in my face—dear Heaven, that I should have to write +it!—with eyes brimful, sick with love; tried to speak, but could only +nod: and broke into a wild fit of tears. + +I was standing there with her hand in mine, and a burning remorse in my +heart, when I heard the clear notes of a bugle blown, away on the road +to Launceston. + +Looking that way, I saw a great company of horse coming down over the +crest, the sun shining level on their arms and a green standard that +they bore in their midst. + +Joan spied them the same instant, and check’d her sobs. Without a word +we flung ourselves down full length on the turf to watch. + +They were more than a thousand, as I guess’d, and came winding down the +road very orderly, till, being full of them, it seem’d a long serpent +writhing with shiny scales. The tramp of hoofs and jingling of bits were +pretty to hear. + +“Rebels!” whisper’d I. + +Joan nodded. + +There were three regiments in all, whereof the first (and biggest) was +of dragoons. So clear was the air, I could almost read the legend on +their standard, and the calls of their captains were borne up to us +extremely distinct. + +As they rode leisurely past, I thought of Master Tingcomb’s threat, and +wonder’d what this array could intend. Nor, turning it over, could I +find any explanation: for the Earl of Stamford’s gathering, he had said, +was in the northeast, and I knew such troops as the Cornish generals had +to be quarter’d at Launceston. Yet here, on the near side of Launceston, +was a large body of rebel horse marching quietly to the sou’-west. Where +was the head or tail to it? + +Turning my head as the last rider disappear’d on the way to Bodmin, I +spied a squat oddly shap’d man striding down the hill very briskly: yet +he look’d about him often and kept to the hollows of the ground; and was +crossing below us, as it appeared, straight for Joan’s cottage. + +Cried I: “There is but one man in the world with such a gait—and that’s +Billy Pottery!” + +And jumping to my feet (for he was come directly beneath us) I caught up +a great stone and sent it bowling down the slope. + +Bounce it went past him, missing his legs by a foot or less. The man +turn’d, and catching sight of me as I stood waving, made his way up +the hill. ’Twas indeed Captain Bilty: and coming up, the honest fellow +almost hugg’d me for joy. + +“Was seeking thee, Jack,” he bawled: “learn’d from Sir Bevill where +belike I might find thee. Left his lodging at Launceston this mornin’, +and trudged ivery foot o’ the way. A thirsty land, Jack—neither horse’s +meat nor man’s meat therein, nor a chair to sit down on: an’ three women +only have I kiss’d this day!” He broke off and look’d at Joan. “Beggin’ +the lady’s pardon for sea manners and way o’ speech.” + +“Joan,” said I, “this is Billy Pottery, a good mariner and friend of +mine: and as deaf as a haddock.” + +Billy made a leg; and as I pointed to the road where the cavalry had +just disappeared, went on with a nod— + +“That’s so: old Sir G’arge Chudleigh’s troop o’ horse sent off to Bodmin +to seize the High Sheriff and his _posse_ there. Two hour agone I spied +’em, and ha’ been ever since playin’ spy.” + +“Then where be the King’s forces?” I made shift to enquire by signs. + +“March’d out o’ Launceston to-day, lad—an’ but a biscuit a man between +’em, poor dears—for Stratton Heath, i’ the nor’-east, where the rebels +be encamp’d. Heard by scouts o’ these gentry bein’ sent to Bodmin, and +were minded to fight th’ Earl o’ Stamford whiles his dragooners was +away. An’ here’s the long an’ short o’t: thou’rt wanted, lad, to bear a +hand wi’ us up yonder—an the good lady here can spare thee.” + +And here we both look’d at Joan—I shamefacedly enough, and Billy with a +puzzled air, which he tried very delicately to hide. + +She put her hand in mine. + +“To fight, lad?” + +I nodded my head. + +“Then go,” she said without a shade in her voice; and as I made no +answer, went on—“Shall a woman hinder when there’s fightin’ toward? +Only come back when thy wars be over, for I shall miss thee, Jack.” + +And dropping my hand she led the way down to the cottage. + +Now Billy, of course, had not heard a word of this: but perhaps he +gathered some import. Any way, he pull’d up short midway on the slope, +scratched his head, and thunder’d— + +“What a good lass!” + +Joan, some paces ahead, turn’d at this and smil’d: whereat, having no +idea he’d spoken above a whisper, Billy blush’d red as any peony. + +’Twas but a short half hour when, the mare being saddled and Billy fed, +we took our leave of Joan. Billy walked beside one stirrup, and the +girl on the other side, to see us a few yards on our way. At length she +halted— + +“No leave-takin’s, Jack, but ‘Church and King!’ Only do thy best and not +disgrace me.” + +And “Church and King!” she call’d thrice after us, standing in the road. +For me, as I rode up out of that valley, the drums seem’d beating and +the bugles calling to a new life ahead. The last light of day was on the +tors, the air blowing fresher as we mounted: and with Molly’s every step +the past five months appear’d to dissolve and fall away from me as a +dream. + +On the crest, I turn’d in the saddle. Joan was yet standing there, a +black speck on the road. She waved her hand once. + +Billy had turn’d too, and, uncovering, shouted so that the hilltops +echoed. + +“A good lass—a good lass! But what’s become o’ t’other one?” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH. + + +Night came, and found us but midway between Temple and Launceston: for +tho’ my comrade stepp’d briskly beside me, ’twas useless to put Molly +beyond a walk; and besides, the mare was new from her day’s journey. +This troubled me the less by reason of the moon (now almost at the +full), and the extreme whiteness of the road underfoot, so that there +was no fear of going astray. And Billy engaged that by sunrise we should +be in sight of the King’s troops. + +“Nay, Jack,” he said, when by signs I offered him to ride and tie: +“never rode o’ horseback but once, and then ’pon Parson Spinks his red +mare at Bideford. Parson i’ those days was courtin’ the Widow Hambly, +over to Torrington: an’ I, that wanted to fare to Barnstaple, spent that +mornin’ an’ better part o’ th’ afternoon, clawin’ off Torrington. And +th’ end was the larboard halyards broke, an’ the mare gybed, an’ to +Torrington I went before the wind, wi’ an unseemly bloody nose. ‘Lud!’ +cries the widow, ‘’tis the wrong man ’pon the right horse!’ ‘Pardon, +mistress,’ says I, ‘the man is well enow, but ’pon the wrong horse, for +sure.’” + +Now and then, as we went, I would dismount and lead Molly by the bridle +for a mile or so: and all the way to Launceston Billy was recounting his +adventures since our parting. It appeared that, after leaving me, they +had come to Plymouth with a fair passage: but before they could unlade, +had advertisement of the Governor’s design to seize all vessels then +riding in the Sound, for purposes of war; and so made a quick escape by +night into Looe Haven, where they had the fortune to part with the best +part of their cargo at a high profit. ’Twas while unlading here that +Billy had a mind to pay a debt he ow’d to a cousin of his at Altarnun, +and, leaving Matt Soames in charge, had tramped northward through +Liskeard to Launceston, where he found the Cornish forces, and was met +by the news of the Earl of Stamford’s advance in the northeast. Further +meeting, in Sir Bevill’s troop, with some north coast men of his +acquaintance, he fell to talking, and so learn’d about me and my ride +toward Braddock, which (it seem’d) was now become common knowledge. This +led him to seek Sir Bevill, with the result that you know: “for,” as he +wound up, “’tis a desirable an’ rare delight to pay a debt an’ see some +fun, together.” + +We had some trouble at Launceston gate, where were a few burghers posted +for sentries, and, as I could see, ready to take fright at their own +shadows. But Billy gave the watchword (“One and All”), and presently +they let us through. As we pass’d along the street we marked a light +in every window almost, tho’ ’twas near midnight; and the people moving +about behind their curtains. There were groups too in the dark doorways, +gather’d there discussing, that eyed us as we went by, and answered +Billy’s _Good-night, honest men!_ very hoarse and doubtfully. + +But when we were beyond the town, and between hedges again, I think I +must have dozed off in my saddle. For, though this was a road full of +sharp memories, being the last I had traveled with Delia, I have no +remembrance to have felt them; or, indeed, of noting aught but the fresh +night air, and the constellation of the Bear blazing ahead, and Billy’s +voice resonant beside me. + +And after this I can recall passing the tower of Marham Church, with the +paling sky behind it, and some birds chattering in the carved courses: +and soon (it seem’d) felt Billy’s grip on my knee, and open’d my eyes to +see his finger pointing. + +We stood on a ridge above a hollow vale into which the sun, though now +bright, did not yet pierce, but passing over to a high, conical hill +beyond, smote level on line after line of white tents—the prettiest +sight! ’Twas the enemy there encamped on the top and some way down the +sides, the smoke of their trampled watch fires still curling among the +gorsebushes. I heard their trumpets calling and drums beating to arms; +for though, glancing back at the sun, I judged it to be hardly past four +in the morning, yet already the slopes were moving like an ant-hill—the +regiments gathering, arms flashing, horsemen galloping to and fro, and +the captains shouting their commands. In the distance this had a sweet +and cheerful sound, no more disquieting than a ploughboy calling to his +team. + +Looking down into the valley at our feet, at first I saw no sign of our +own troops—only the roofs of a little town, with overmuch smoke spread +above it, like a morning mist. But here also I heard the church bells +clashing and a drum beating, and presently spied a gleam of arms down +among the trees, and then a regiment of foot moving westward along the +base of the hill. ’Twas evident the battle was at hand, and we quicken’d +our pace down into the street. + +It lay on the slope, and midway down we pass’d some watch fires burn’d +out; and then a soldier or two running and fastening their straps; and +last a little child, that seem’d wild with the joy of living amid great +events, but led us pretty straight to the sign of “The Tree,” which +indeed was the only tavern. + +It stood some way back from the street, with a great elm before the +porch: where by a table sat two men, with tankards beside them, and a +small company of grooms and soldiers standing round. Both men were more +than ordinary tall and soldier like: only the bigger wore a scarlet +cloak very richly lac’d, and was shouting orders to his men; while +the other, dress’d in plain buff suit and jack boots, had a map spread +before him, which he studied very attentively, writing therein with a +quill pen. + +“What a plague have we here?” cries the big man, as we drew up. + +“Recruits if it please you, sir,” said I, dismounting and pulling off my +hat, tho’ his insolent tone offended me. + +“S’lid! The boy speaks as if he were a regiment,” growls he, half aloud: +“Can’st fight?” + +“That, with your leave, sir, is what I am come to try.” + +“And this rascal?” He turned on Billy. + +Billy heard not a word, of course, yet answered readily— + +“Why, since your honor is so pleasantly minded—let it be cider.” + +Now the first effect of this, deliver’d with all force of lung, was +to make the big man sit bolt upright and staring: recovering speech, +however, he broke into a volley of blasphemous curses. + +All this while the man in buff had scarce lifted his eyes off the map. +But now he looks up—and I saw at the first glance that the two men +hated each other. + +“I think,” said he quietly, “my Lord Mohun has forgot to ask the +_gentleman’s_ name.” + +“My name is Marvel, sir—John Marvel.” I answer’d him with a bow. + +“Hey!”—and dropping his pen he starts up and grasps my hand—“Then ’tis +you I have never thanked for His Gracious Majesty’s letter.” + +“The General Hopton?” cried I. + +“Even so, sir. My lord,” he went on, still holding my hand and turning +to his companion, “let me present to you the gentleman that in +January sav’d your house of Bocconnoc from burning at the hands of the +rebels—whom God confound this day!” He lifted his hat. + +“Amen,” said I, as his lordship bowed, exceedingly sulky. But I did +not value his rage, being hot with joy to be so beprais’d by the first +captain (as I yet hold) on the royal side. Who now, not without a sly +triumph, flung the price of Billy’s cider on the table and, folding up +his map, address’d me again— + +“Master Marvel, the fight to-day will lie but little with the horse—or +so I hope. You will do well, if your wish be to serve us best, to leave +your mare behind. The troop which my Lord Mohun and I command together +is below. But Sir Bevill Grenville, who has seen and is interested in +you, has the first claim: and I would not deny you the delight to fight +your first battle under so good a master. His men are, with Sir John +Berkeley’s troop, a little to the westward: and if you are ready I will +go some distance with you, and put you in the way to find him. My lord, +may we look for you presently?” + +The Lord Mohun nodded, surly enough: so, Billy’s cider being now drunk +and Molly given over to an ostler, we set out down the hill together, +Billy shouldering a pipe and walking after with the groom that led Sir +Ralph’s horse. Be sure the General’s courtly manner of speech set my +blood tingling. I seem’d to grow a full two inches taller; and when, in +the vale, we parted, he directing me to the left, where through a gap +I could see Sir Bevill’s troop forming at some five hundred paces’ +distance, I felt a very desperate warrior indeed; and set off at a run, +with Billy behind me. + +’Twas an open space we had to cross, dotted with gorsebushes; and the +enemy’s regiments, plain to see, drawn up in battalia on the slope +above, which here was gentler than to the south and west. But hardly had +we gone ten yards than I saw a puff of white smoke above, then another, +and then the summit ring’d with flame; and heard the noise of it roaring +in the hills around. At the first sound I pull’d up, and then began +running again at full speed: for I saw our division already in motion, +and advancing up the hill at a quick pace. + +The curve of the slope hid all but the nearest: but above them I saw +a steep earthwork, and thereon three or four brass pieces of ordnance +glittering whenever the smoke lifted. For here the artillery was plying +the briskest, pouring down volley on volley; and four regiments at least +stood mass’d behind, ready to fall on the Cornish-men; who, answering +with a small discharge of musketry, now ran forward more nimbly. + +To catch up with them, I must now turn my course obliquely up the hill, +where running was pretty toilsome. We were panting along when suddenly a +shower of sand and earth was dash’d in my face, spattering me all over. +Half-blinded, I look’d and saw a great round shot had ploughed a trench +in the ground at my feet, and lay there buried. + +At the same moment, Billy, who was running at my shoulder, plumps down +on his knees and begins to whine and moan most pitiably. + +“Art hurt, dear fellow?” asked I, turning. + +“Oh, Jack, Jack—I have no stomach for this! A cool, wet death at sea +I do not fear; only to have the great hot shot burning in a man’s +belly—’tis terrifying. I _hate_ a swift death! Jack, I be a sinner—I +will confess: I lied to thee yesterday—never kiss’d the three maids +I spoke of—never kiss’d but one i’ my life, an’ her a tap-wench, +that slapp’d my face for ’t, an’ so don’t properly count. I be a very +boastful man!” + +Now I myself had felt somewhat cold inside when the guns began roaring: +but this set me right in a trice. I whipp’d a pistol out of my sash and +put the cold ring to his ear: and he scrambled up; and was a very lion +all the rest of the day. + +But now we had again to change our course, for to my dismay I saw a +line of sharpshooters moving down among the gorsebushes, to take the +Cornishmen in flank. And ’twas lucky we had but a little way further +to go; for these skirmishers, thinking perhaps from my dress and our +running thus that we bore some message open’d fire on us: and tho’ they +were bad marksmen, ’twas ugly to see their bullets pattering into the +turf, to right and left. + +We caught up the very last line of the ascending troop—lean, hungry +looking men, with wan faces, but shouting lustily. I think they were +about three hundred in all. “Come on, lad,” called out a bearded fellow +with a bandage over one eye, making room for me at his side; “there’s +work for plenty more!”—and a minute after, a shot took him in the ribs, +and he scream’d out “Oh, my God!” and flinging up his arms, leap’d a +foot in air and fell on his face. + +Pressing up, I noted that the first line was now at the foot of the +earthwork; and, in a minute, saw their steel caps and crimson sashes +swarming up the face of it, and their pikes shining. But now came a +shock, and the fellow in front was thrust back into my arms. I reeled +down a pace or two and then, finding foothold, stood pushing. And next, +the whole body came tumbling back on me, and down the hill we went +flying, with oaths and cries. Three of the rebel regiments had been +flung on us and by sheer weight bore us before them. At the same time +the sharpshooters pour’d in a volley: and I began to see how a man may +go through a battle, and be beat, without striking a blow. + +But in the midst of this scurry I heard the sound of cheering. ’Twas Sir +John Berkeley’s troop (till now posted under cover of the hedges below) +that had come to our support; and the rebels, fearing to advance too +far, must have withdrawn again behind their earthwork, for after a while +the pressure eas’d a bit, and, to my amaze, the troop which but a minute +since was a mere huddled crowd, formed in some order afresh, and once +more began to climb. This time, I had a thick-set pikeman in front of +me, with a big wen at the back of his neck that seem’d to fix all my +attention. And up we went, I counting the beat of my heart that was +already going hard and short with the work; and then, amid the rattle +and thunder of their guns, we stopp’d again. + +I had taken no notice of it, but in the confusion of the first repulse +the greater part of our men had been thrust past me, so that now I found +myself no further back than the fourth rank, and at the very foot of the +earthwork, up the which our leaders were flung like a wave; and soon I +was scrambling after them, ankle deep in the sandy earth, the man with +the wen just ahead, grinding my instep with his heel and poking his pike +staff between my knees as he slipp’d. + +And just at the moment when the top of our wave was cleaving a small +breach above us, he fell on the flat of his pike, with his nose buried +in the gravel and his hands clutching. Looking up I saw a tall rebel +straddling above him with musket clubb’d to beat his brains out: whom +with an effort I caught by the boot; and, the bank slipping at that +instant, down we all slid in a heap, a jumble of arms and legs, to the +very bottom. + +Before I had the sand well out of my eyes, my comrade was up and had his +pike loose; and in a twinkling, the rebel was spitted through the middle +and writhing. ’Twas sickening: but before I could pull out my pistol +and end his pain (as I was minded), back came our front rank a-top of +us again, and down they were driven like sheep, my companion catching up +the dead man’s musket and ammunition bag, and I followed down the slope +with three stout rebels at my heels. “What will be the end of _this?_” + thought I. + +The end was, that after forty yards or so, finding the foremost close +upon me, I turn’d about and let fly with my pistol at him. He spun round +twice and dropp’d: which I was wondering at (the pistol being but a poor +weapon for aim) when I was caught by the arm and pull’d behind a clump +of bushes handy by. ’Twas the man with the wen, and by his smoking +musket I knew that ’twas he had fired the shot that killed my pursuer. + +“Good turn for good turn,” says he: “quick with thy other pistol!” + +The other two had stopped doubtfully, but at the next discharge of my +pistol they turn’d tail and went up the hill again, and we were left +alone. And suddenly I grew aware that my head was aching fit to split, +and lay down on the turf, very sick and ill. + +My comrade took no notice of this, but, going for the dead man’s musket, +kept loading and firing, pausing now and then for his artillery to cool, +and whistling a tune that runs in my head to this day. And all the time +I heard shouts and cries and the noise of musketry all around, which +made me judge that the attack was going on in many places at once. +When I came to myself ’twas to hear a bugle below calling again to the +charge, and once more came the two troops ascending. At their head was a +slight built man, bare-headed, with the sun (that was by this, high +over the hill) smiting on his brown curls, and the wind blowing them. +He carried a naked sword in his hand, and waved his men forward as +cheerfully as though ’twere a dance and he leading out his partner. + +“Who is that yonder?” asked I, sitting up and pointing. + +“Bless thy innocent heart!” said my comrade, “dostn’t thee know? Tis Sir +Bevill.” + + * * * * * + +’Twould be tedious to tell the whole of this long fight, which, +beginning soon after sunrise, ended not till four in the afternoon, or +thereabouts: and indeed of the whole my recollection is but of continual +advance and repulse on that same slope. And herein may be seen the +wisdom of our generals, in attacking while the main body of the enemy’s +horse was away: for had the Earl of Stamford possessed a sufficient +force of dragoons to let slip on us at the first discomfiture, there is +little doubt he might have ended the battle there and then. As it was, +the horse stood out of the fray, theirs upon the summit of the hill, +ours (under Col. John Digby) on the other slope, to protect the town and +act as reserve. + +The foot, in four parties, was disposed about the hill on all sides; to +the west—as we know—under Sir John Berkeley and Sir Bevill Grenville; +to the south under General Hopton and Lord Mohun; to the east under the +Colonels Tom Basset and William Godolphin; while the steep side to the +north was stormed by Sir Nicholas Slanning and Colonel Godolphin, with +their companies. And as we had but eight small pieces of cannon and were +in numbers less than one to two, all we had to do was to march up the +hill in face of their fire, catch a knock on the head, may be, grin, and +come on again. + +But at three o’clock, we, having been for the sixth time beaten back, +were panting under cover of a hedge, and Sir John Berkeley, near by, was +writing on a drumhead some message to the camp, when there comes a young +man on horseback, his face smear’d with dirt and dust, and rides up to +him and Sir Bevill. ’Twas (I have since learn’d) to say that the powder +was all spent but a barrel or two: but this only the captains knew at +the time. + +“Very well, then,” cries Sir Bevill, leaping up gaily. “Come along, +boys—we must do it this time.” And, the troop forming, once more the +trumpets sounded the charge, and up we went. Away along the slope we +heard the other trumpeters sounding in answer, and I believe ’twas a +_sursum corda!_ to all of us. + +Billy Pottery was ranged on my right, in the first rank, and next to me, +on the other side, a giant, near seven foot high, who said his name was +Anthony Payne and his business to act as body-servant to Sir Bevill. And +he it was that struck up a mighty curious song in the Cornish tongue, +which the rest took up with a will. Twas incredible how it put fire into +them all: and Sir Bevill toss’d his hat into the air, and after him like +schoolboys we pelted, straight for the masses ahead. + +For now over the rampart came a company of red musketeers, and two of +russet-clad pikemen, charging down on us. A moment, and we were crushed +back: another, and the chant rose again. We were grappling, hand to +hand, in the midst of their files. + +But, good lack! What use is swordsmanship in a charge like this? The +first red coat that encounter’d me I had spitted through the lung, +and, carried on by the rush, he twirled me round like a windmill. In an +instant I was pass’d; the giant stepping before me and clearing a space +about him, using his pike as if ’twere a flail. With a wrench I tugg’d +my sword out and followed. I saw Sir Bevill, a little to the left, +beaten to his knee, and carried toward me. Stretching out a hand I +pull’d him on his feet again, catching, as I did so, a crack on the +skull that would have ended me, had not Billy Pottery put up his pike +and broke the force of it. Next, I remember gripping another red coat +by the beard and thrusting at him with shortened blade. Then the giant +ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought to rally round it; and with +that I seem’d caught off my feet and swept forward:—and we were on the +crest. + +Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man’s +breath off a pane. And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across +to where, on the north side, a white standard embroider’d with gold +griffins was mounting. + +“’Tis dear Nick Slanning!” he cried; “God be prais’d—the day is ours +for certain!” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT. + + +The rest of this signal victory (in which 1,700 prisoners were taken, +besides the Major-General Chudleigh; and all the rebels’ camp, cannon +and victuals) I leave historians to tell. For very soon after the rout +was assured (the plain below full of men screaming and running, and Col. +John Digby’s dragoons after them, chasing, cutting, and killing), a wet +muzzle was thrust into my hand, and turning, I found Molly behind me, +with the groom to whom I had given her in the morning. The rogue had +counted on a crown for his readiness, and swore the mare was ready for +anything, he having mix’d half a pint of strong ale with her mash, not +half an hour before. + +So I determin’d to see the end of it, and paying the fellow, climb’d +into the saddle. On the summit the Cornish captains were now met, and +cordially embracing. ’Tis very sad in these latter times to call back +their shouts and boyish laughter, so soon to be quench’d on Lansdowne +slopes, or by Bristol graff. Yet, O favor’d ones!—to chase Victory, to +grasp her flutt’ring skirt, and so, with warm, panting cheeks, kissing +her, to fall, escaping evil days! + +How could they laugh? For me, the late passionate struggle left me +shaken with sobs; and for the starting tears I saw neither moors around, +nor sun, nor twinkling sea. Brushing them away, I was aware of Billy +Pottery striding at my stirrup, and munching at a biscuit he had found +in the rebels’ camp. Said he, “In season, Jack, is in reason. There +be times to sing an’ to dance, to marry and to give in marriage; an’ +likewise times to become as wax: but now, lookin’ about an’ seein’ +no haughty slaughterin’ cannon but has a Cornishman seated ’pon the +touch-hole of the same, says I in my thoughtsome way, ‘Forbear!’” + +Presently he pulls up before a rebel trooper, that was writhing on the +slope with a shatter’d thigh, yet raised himself on his fists to gaze on +us with wide, painful eyes. + +“Good sirs,” gasp’d out the rebel, “can you tell me—where be Nat +Shipward?” + +“Now how should I know?” I answer’d. + +“’A had nutty-brown curls, an’ wore a red jacket—Oh, as straight a +young man as ever pitched hay! ’a sarved in General Chudleigh’s troop—a +very singular straight young man.” + +“Death has taken a many such,” said I, and thought on the man I had run +through in our last charge. + +The fellow groaned. “’A was my son,” he said: and though Billy pull’d +out a biscuit (his pockets bulged with them) and laid it beside him, he +turn’d from it, and sank back on the turf again. + +We left him, and now, the descent being gentler, broke into a run, in +hopes to catch up with Col. John Digby’s dragoons, that already were far +across the next vale. The slope around us was piled with dead and dying, +whereof four out of every five were rebels; and cruelly they cursed us +as we passed them by. Night was coming on apace; and here already we +were in deep shadow, but could see the yellow sun on the hills beyond. +We crossed a stream at the foot, and were climbing again. Behind us the +cheering yet continued, though fainter: and fainter grew the cries and +shouting in front. Soon we turn’d into a lane over a steep hedge, under +the which two or three stout rebels were cowering. As we came tumbling +almost atop of them, they ran yelling: and we let them go in peace. + +The lane gradually led us to westward, out of the main line of the rout, +and past a hamlet where every door was shut and all silent. And at last +a slice of the sea fronted us, between two steeply shelving hills. On +the crest of the road, before it plunged down toward the coast, was +a wagon lying against the hedge, with the horses gone: and beside it, +stretch’d across the road, an old woman. Stopping, we found her dead, +with a sword-thrust through the left breast; and inside the wagon a +young man lying, with his jaw bound up,—dead also. And how this sad +spectacle happened here, so far from the battlefield, was more than we +could guess. + +I was moving away, when Billy, that was kneeling in the road, chanced +to cast his eyes up toward the sea, and dropping the dead woman’s hand +scrambled on his feet and stood looking, with a puzzled face. + +Following his gaze, I saw a small sloop moving under shorten’d canvas, +about two miles from the land. She made a pleasant sight, with the last +rays of sunlight flaming on her sails: but for Billy’s perturbation I +could not account, so turn’d an enquiring glance to him. + +“Suthin’ i’ the wind out yonder,” was his answer: “What’s a sloop doing +on that ratch so close in by the point? Be dang’d! but there she goes +again;”—as the little vessel swung off a point or two further from the +breeze, that was breathing softly up Channel. “Time to sup, lad, for the +both of us,” he broke off shortly. + +Indeed, I was faint with hunger by this time, yet had no stomach to +eat thus close to the dead. So turning into a gate on our left hand, we +cross’d two or three fields, and sat down to sup off Billy’s biscuits, +the mare standing quietly beside us, and cropping the short grass. + +The field where we now found ourselves ran out along the top of a small +promontory, and ended, without fence of any sort, at the cliff’s edge. +As I sat looking southward, I could only observe the sloop by turning my +head: but Billy, who squatted over against me, hardly took his eyes off +her, and between this and his meal was too busy to speak a word. For +me, I had enough to do thinking over the late fight: and being near worn +out, had half a mind to spend the night there on the hard turf: for, +though the sun was now down and the landscape grey, yet the air was +exceeding warm: and albeit, as I have said, there breath’d a light +breeze now and then, ’twas hardly cool enough to dry the sweat off me. +So I stretch’d myself out, and found it very pleasant to lie still; +nor, when Billy stood up and sauntered off toward the far end of the +headland, did I stir more than to turn my head and lazily watch him. + +He was gone half an hour at the least, and the sky by this time was so +dark, that I had lost sight of him, when, rising on my elbow to look +around, I noted a curious red glow at a point where the turf broke off, +not three hundred yards behind me, and a thin smoke curling up in it, as +it seem’d, from the very face of the cliff below. In a minute or so the +smoke ceased almost; but the shine against the sky continued steady, +tho’ not very strong. “Billy has lit a fire,” I guessed, and was +preparing to go and look, when I spied a black form crawling toward me, +and presently saw ’twas Billy himself. + +Coming close, he halted, put a finger to his lip and beckoned: then +began to lead the way back as he had come. + +Thought I, “these are queer doings:” but left Molly to browse, and crept +after him on hands and knees. He turn’d his head once to make sure I was +following, and then scrambled on quicker, but softly, toward the point +where the red glow was shining. + +Once more he pull’d up—as I judg’d, about twelve paces’ distance from +the edge—and after considering for a second, began to move again; only +now he worked a little to the right. And soon I saw the intention of +this: for just here the cliff’s lip was cleft by a fissure—very like +that in Scawfell which we were used to call the _Lord’s Rake_, only +narrower—that ran back into the field and shelved out gently at the +top, so that a man might easily scramble some way down it, tho’ how far +I could not then tell. And ’twas from this fissure that the glow came. + +Along the right lip of this Billy led me, skirting it by a couple of +yards, and wriggling on his belly like a blind worm. Crawling closer now +(for ’twas hard to see him against the black turf), I stopp’d beside him +and strove to quiet the violence of my breathing. Then, after a minute’s +pause, together we pulled ourselves to the edge, and peer’d over. + +The descent of the gully was broken, some eight feet below us, by a +small ledge, sloping outward about six feet (as I guess), and screen’d +by branches of the wild tamarisk. At the back, in an angle of the +solid rock, was now set a pan pierced with holes, and full of burning +charcoal: and over this a man in the rebels’ uniform was stooping. + +He had a small paper parcel in his left hand, and was blowing at the +charcoal with all his might. Holding my breath, I heard him clearly, +but could see nothing of his face, for his back was toward us, all sable +against the glow. The charcoal fumes as they rose chok’d me so, that +I was very near a fit of coughing, when Billy laid one hand on my +shoulder, and with the other pointed out to seaward. + +Looking that way, I saw a small light shining on the sea, pretty close +in. ’Twas a lantern hung out from the sloop, as I concluded on the +instant: and now I began to have an inkling of what was toward. + +But looking down again at the man with the charcoal pan I saw a black +head of hair lifted, and then a pair of red puff’d cheeks, and a pimpled +nose with a scar across the bridge of it—all shining in the glare of +the pan. + +“Powers of Heaven!” I gasped; “’tis that bloody villain Luke Settle!” + +And springing to my feet, I took a jump over the edge and came sprawling +on top of him. The scoundrel was stooping with his nose close to the +pan, and had not time to turn before I lit with a thud on his shoulders, +flattening him on the ledge and nearly sending his face on top of the +live coal. ’Twas so sudden that, before he could so much as think, my +fingers were about his windpipe, and the both of us struggling flat on +the brink of the precipice. For he had a bull’s strength, and heaved and +kicked, so that I fully looked, next moment, to be flying over the edge +into the sea: nor could I loose my grip to get out a pistol, but only +held on and worked my fingers in, and thought how he had strangled the +mastiff that night on the bowling-green, and vowed to serve him the same +if only strength held out. + +But now, just as he had almost twisted his neck free, I heard a stone or +two break away above us, and down came Billy Pottery flying atop of us, +and pinned us to the ledge. + +’Twas short work now. Within a minute, Captain Luke Settle was turned +on his back, his eyes fairly starting with Billy’s clutch on his throat, +his mouth wide open and gasping; till I slipp’d the nozzle of my pistol +between his teeth; and with that he had no more chance, but gave in, and +like a lamb submitted to have his arms truss’d behind him with Billy’s +leathern belt, and his legs with his own. + +“Now,” said I, standing over him, and putting the pistol against his +temple, “you and I, Master Turncoat Settle, have some accounts that +’twould be well to square. So first tell me, what do you here, and where +is Mistress Delia Killigrew?” + +I think that till this moment the bully had no idea his assailants were +more than a chance couple of Cornish troopers. But now seeing the glow +of the burning charcoal on my face, he ripped out a horrid blasphemous +curse, and straightway fell to speaking calmly. + +“Good sirs, the game is yours, with care. S’lid! but you hold a pretty +hand—if only you know how to play it.” + +“’Tis you shall help me, Captain: but let us be clear about the stakes. +For you, ’tis life or death: for me, ’tis to regain Mistress Delia, +failing which I shoot you here through the head, and topple you into the +sea. You are the Knave of trumps, sir, and I play that card: as matters +now stand, only the Queen can save you.” + +“Right: but where be King and Ace?” + +“The King is the Cornish army, yonder: the Ace is my pistol here, which +I hold.” + +“And that’s a very pretty comprehension of the game, sir: I play the +Queen.” + +“Where is she?” + +For answer, he pointed seaward, where the sloop’s lantern lay like a +floating star on the black waters. + +“What!” cried I. “Mistress Delia in that sloop! And who is with her, +pray?” + +“Why, Black Dick, to begin with—and Reuben Gedges—and Jeremy Toy.” + +“All the Knaves left in the pack—God help her!” I muttered, as I look’d +out toward the light, and my heart beat heavily. “God help her!” I said +again, and turning, spied a grin on the Captain’s face. + +“Under Providence,” answered he, “your unworthy servant may suffice. But +what is my reward to be?” + +“Your neck,” said I, “if I can save it when you are led before the +Cornish captains.” + +“That’s fair enough: so listen. These few months the lady has been shut +in Bristol keep, whither, by the advice of our employer, we conveyed her +back safe and sound. This same employer—” + +“A dirty rogue, whom you may as well call by his name—Hannibal +Tingcomb.” + +“Right, young sir: a very dirty rogue, and a niggardly:—I hate a mean +rascal. Well, fearing her second escape from that prison, and being hand +in glove with the Parliament men, he gets her on board a sloop bound for +the Virginias, just at the time when he knows the Earl of Stamford is to +march and crush the Cornishmen. For escort she has the three comrades of +mine that I named: and the captain of the sloop (a fellow that asks no +questions) has orders to cruise along the coast hereabouts till he gets +news of the battle.” + +“Which you were just now about to give him,” cried I, suddenly +enlighten’d. + +“Right again. ’Twas a pretty scheme: for—d’ye see?—if all went +well with the Earl of Stamford, the King’s law would be wiped out in +Cornwall, and Master Tingcomb (with his claims and meritorious services) +might snap his thumb thereat. So, in that case, Mistress Delia was to be +brought ashore here and taken to him, to serve as he fancied. But if the +day should go against us—as it has—she was to sail to the Virginias +with the sloop, and there be sold as a slave. Or worse might happen; but +I swear that is the worst was ever told me.” + +“God knows ’tis vile enough,” said I, scarce able to refrain from +blowing his brains out. “So you were to follow the Earl’s army, and work +the signals. Which are they?” For a quick resolve had come into my head, +and I was casting about to put it into execution. + +“A green light if we won: if not, a red light, to warn the sloop away.” + +I picked up the packet that had dropp’d from his hand when first I +sprang upon him. It was burst abroad, and a brown powder trickling from +it about the ledge. + +“This was the red light—to be sprinkled on the burning charcoal, I +suppose?” + +The fellow nodded. At the same moment, Billy (who as yet had not spoke +a word, and of course, understood nothing) thrust into my hand another +packet that he had found stuck in a corner against the rock. + +“Now tell me—in case the rebels won, where was the landing to be made?” + +“In the cove below here—where the road leads down.” + +“Aye, the road where the wagon stood.” + +Captain Luke Settle blink’d his eyes at this: but nodded after a moment. + +“And how many would escort her?” + +He caught my drift and laughed softly— + +“Be damn’d, sir, but I begin to love you, for you play the game very +proper and soundly. Reuben, Jeremy, and Black Dick alone are in the +plot; so why should more escort her? For the skipper and crew have their +own business to look after.” + +“Then, Master Settle, tho’ it be a sore trial to you, those three Knaves +you must give me, or I play my Ace,” and I pressed the ring of my pistol +sharply against his ear as a reminder. + +“With all my heart, young sir, you shall have them,” says he briskly. + +“And this is ‘honor among thieves,’” thought I: “You would sell your +comrade as you sold your King:” but only said, “If you cry out, or speak +one word to warn them—” + +Before I could get my sentence out, Billy Pottery broke in with a voice +like a trumpet— + +“As folks go, Jack, I be a humorous man. But sittin’ here, an’ ponderin’ +this way an’ that, I says, in my deaf an’ afflicted style, ‘Why not +shoot the ugly rogue, if mirth, indeed, be your object?’ For to wait +till an uglier comes to this untravel’d spot is superfluity.” + +How to explain matters to Billy was more than I could tell: but in a +moment he himself supplied the means. For the rocks here were of some +kind of slate, very hard, but scaly: and finding two pieces, a large and +a small, he handed them to me, bawling that I was to write therewith. So +giving him my pistol, I made shift to scribble a few words. Seeing his +eyes twinkle as he read, I stood up. + +The charcoal by this time was a glowing mass of red: and threw so clear +a light on us that I feared the crew on board the sloop might see +our forms and suspect their misadventure. But the lantern still hung +steadily: so signing to Billy to drag our prisoner behind a tamarisk +bush, I open’d the second packet, and poured some of the powder into my +hand. + +It was composed of tiny crystals, yellow and flaky: and holding it, +for a moment I was possessed with a horrid fear that this might be the +signal to warn the sloop away. I flung a look at the Captain: who read +my thoughts on the instant. + +“Never fear, young sir: am no such hero as to sell my life for that +tag-rag. Only make haste, for your deaf friend has a cursed ugly way of +fumbling his pistol.” + +So taking heart, I tore the packet wide, and shook out the powder on the +coals. + +Instantly there came a dense choking vapor, and a vivid green flare that +turned the rocks, the sky, and our faces to a ghastly brilliance. For +two minutes, at least, this unnatural light lasted. As soon as it died +away and the fumes clear’d, I look’d seaward. + +The lantern on the sloop was moving in answer to the signal. Three times +it was lifted and lower’d: and then in the stillness I heard voices +calling, and soon after the regular splash of oars. + +There was no time to be lost. Pulling the Captain to his feet, we +scrambled up the gully, and out at the top, and across the fields as +fast as our legs would take us. Molly came to my call and trotted beside +me—the Captain following some paces behind, and Billy last, to keep a +safe watch on his movements. + +At the gate, however, where we turned into the road, I tethered the +mare, lest the sound of her hoofs should betray us: and down toward +the sea we pelted, till almost at the foot of the hill I pull’d up and +listen’d, the others following my example. + +We could hear the sound of oars plain above the wash of waves on the +beach. I look’d about me. On either side the road was now bank’d by tall +hills, with clusters of bracken and furze bushes lying darkly on +their slopes. Behind one of these clusters I station’d Billy with the +Captain’s long sword, and a pistol that I by signs forbade him to fire +unless in extremity. Then, retiring some forty paces up the road, I hid +the Captain and myself on the other side. + +Hardly were we thus disposed, before I heard the sound of a boat +grounding on the beach below, and the murmur of voices; and then the +noise of feet trampling the shingle. Upon which I ordered my prisoner to +give a hail, which he did readily. + +“Ahoy, Dick! Ahoy, Reuben Gedges!” + +In a moment or two came the answer— + +“Ahoy, there, Captain—here we be!” + +“Fetch along the cargo!” shouted Captain Settle, on my prompting. + +“Where be you?” + +“Up the road, here—waiting!” + +“One minute, then—wait one minute, Captain!” + +I heard the boat push’d off, some _Good-nights_ call’d, and then (with +tender anguish) the voice of my Delia lifted in entreaty. As I guess’d, +she was beseeching the sailors to take her back to the sloop, nor leave +her to these villains. There follow’d an oath or two growl’d out, a +short scrimmage, and at last, above the splash of the retreating boat, +came the tramp of heavy feet on the road below. + +So fired was I at the sound of Delia’s voice, that ’twas with much ado +I kept quiet behind the bush. Yet I had wit enough left to look to the +priming of my pistol, and also to bid the Captain shout again. As he +did so, a light shone out down the road, and round the corner came a man +bearing a lantern. + +“Can’t be quicker, Captain,” he called: “the jade struggles so that Dick +and Jeremy ha’ their hands full.” + +Sure enough, after him there came in view two stooping forms that bore +my dear maid between them—one by the feet, the other by the shoulders. +I ground my teeth to see it, for she writhed sorely. On they came, +however, until not more than ten paces off; and then that traitor, Luke +Settle, rose up behind our bush. + +“Set her here, boys,” said he, “and tie her pretty ankles.” + +“Well met, Captain!” said the fellow with the lantern—Reuben +Gedges—stepping forward; “Give us your hand!” + +He was holding out his own, when I sprang up, set the pistol close +to his chest, and fired. His scream mingled with the roar of it, and +dropping the lantern, he threw up his hands and tumbled in a heap. At +the same moment, out went the light, and the other rascals, dropping +Delia, turn’d to run, crying, “Sold—sold!” + +But behind them came now a shout from Billy, and a crashing blow that +almost severed Black Dick’s arm at the shoulder: and at the same instant +I was on Master Toy’s collar, and had him down in the dust. Kneeling on +his chest, with my sword point at his throat, I had leisure to glance at +Billy, who in the dark, seem’d to be sitting on the head of his disabled +victim. And then I felt a touch on my shoulder, and a dear face peer’d +into mine. + +“Is it Jack—my sweet Jack?” + +“To be sure,” said I: “and if you but reach out your hand, I will kiss +it, for all that I’m busy with this rogue.” + +“Nay, Jack, I’ll kiss thee on the cheek—so! Dear lad, I am so +frighten’d, and yet could laugh for joy!” + +But now I caught the sound of galloping on the road above, and shouts, +and then more galloping; and down came a troop of horsemen that were +like to have ridden over us, had I not shouted lustily. + +“Who, in the fiend’s name is here?” shouted the foremost, pulling in his +horse with a scramble. + +“Honest men and rebels together,” I answered; “but light the lantern +that you will find handy by, and you shall know one from t’other.” + +By the time ’twas found and lit, there was a dozen of Col. John Digby’s +dragoons about us: and before the two villains were bound, comes a half +dozen more, leading in Captain Settle, that had taken to his heels at +the first blow and climb’d the hill, all tied as he was about the hands, +and was caught in his endeavor to clamber on Molly’s back. So he and +Black Dick and Jeremy Toy were strapp’d up: but Reuben Gedges we left +on the road for a corpse. Yet he did not die (though shot through the +lung), but recovered—heaven knows how: and I myself had the pleasure to +see him hanged at Tyburn, in the second year of his late Majesty’s most +blessed Restoration, for stopping the Bishop of Salisbury’s coach, in +Maidenhead Thicket, and robbing the Bishop himself, with much added +contumely. + +But as we were ready to start, and I was holding Delia steady on Molly’s +back, up comes Billy and bawls in my ear— + +“There’s a second horse, if wanted, that I spied tether’d under a hedge +younder”—and he pointed to the field where we had first found Captain +Settle—“in color a sad black, an’ harness’d like as if he came from a +cart.” + +I look’d at the Captain, who in the light of the lantern blink’d again. +“Thou bloody villain!” muttered I, for now I read the tragedy of the +wagon beside the road, and knew how Master Settle had provided a horse +for his own escape. + +But hereupon the word was given, and we started up the hill, I walking +by Delia’s stirrup and listening to her talk as if we had never been +parted—yet with a tenderer joy, having by loss of it learn’d to +appraise my happiness aright. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE. + + +We came, a little before midnight, to Sir Bevill’s famous great house +of Stow, near Kilkhampton: that to-night was brightly lit and full of +captains and troopers feasting, as well they needed to, after the great +victory. And here, though loth to do so, I left Delia to the care of +Lady Grace Grenville, Sir Bevill’s fond beautiful wife, and of all +gentlewomen I have ever seen the pink and paragon, as well for her loyal +heart as the graces of her mind: who, before the half of our tale was +out, kissed Delia on both cheeks, and led her away. “To you too, sir, +I would counsel bed,” said she, “after you have eaten and drunk, and +especially given God thanks for this day’s work.” + +Sir Bevill I did not see, but striding down into the hall, picked my +way among the drinking and drunken; the servants hurrying with dishes of +roast and baked and great tankards of beer; the swords and pikes flung +down under the forms and settles, and sticking out to trip a man up; and +at length found a groom who led me to a loft over one of the barns: and +here, above a mattress of hay, I slept the first time for many months +between fresh linen that smell’d of lavender, and in thinking how +pleasant ’twas, dropped sound asleep. + +Sure there is no better, sweeter couch than this of linen spread over +hay. Early in the morning, I woke with wits clear as water, and not an +ache or ounce of weariness in my bones: and after washing at the pump +below, went in search of breakfast and Sir Bevill. The one I found, +ready laid, in the hall; the other seated in his writing-room, studying +in a map; and with apology for my haste, handed him Master Tingcomb’s +confession and told my story. + +When ’twas over, Sir Bevill sat pondering, and after a while said, very +frankly—— + +“As a magistrate I can give this warrant; and ’twould be a pleasure, for +well, as a boy, do I remember Deakin Killigrew. Young sir——” he +rose up, and taking a turn across the room, came and laid a hand on my +shoulder, “I have seen his daughter. Is it too late to warn you against +loving her?” + +“Why yes,” I answer’d blushing: “I think it is.” + +“She seems both sweet and quaint. God forbid I should say a word against +one that has so taken me! But in these times a man should stand alone: +to make a friend is to run the chance of a soft heart: to marry a wife +makes the chance sure——” + +He broke off, and went on again with a change of tone—— + +“For many reasons I would blithely issue this warrant. But how am I to +spare men to carry it out? At any moment we may be assail’d.” + +“If that be your concern, sir,” answer’d I, “give me the warrant. I have +a good friend here, a seafaring man, whose vessel lies at this moment +in Looe Haven, with a crew on board that will lay Master Tingcomb by the +heels in a trice. Within three days we’ll have him clapp’d in Launceston +Jail, and there at the next Assize you shall sit on the Grand Jury and +hear his case, by which time, I hope, the King’s law shall run on easier +wheels in Cornwall. The prisoners we have already I leave you to deal +withal: only, against my will, I must claim some mercy for that rogue, +Settle.” + +To this Sir Bevill consented; and, to be short, the three knaves were +next morning pack’d off to Launceston: but in time, no evidence being +brought against them, regained their freedom, which they used to come +to the gallows, each in his own way. Their doings no longer concern this +history, and so I gladly leave them. + +To return, then, to my proper tale, ’twas not ten minutes before I +had the warrant in my pocket. And by eleven o’clock (word having been +carried to Delia, and our plans laid before Billy Pottery, who on the +spot engaged himself to help us) our horses were brought round to the +gate, and my mistress appear’d, all ready for the journey. For tho’ +assured that the work needed not her presence, and that she had best +wait at Stow till Master Tingcomb was smok’d out of his nest, she would +have none of it, but was set on riding with me to see justice done on +this fellow, of whose villainy I had told her much the night before. And +glad I was of her choice, as I saw her standing on the entrance steps, +fresh as a rose, and in a fit habit once more: for Lady Grace had lent +not only her own bay horse, but also a riding dress and hat of grey +velvet to equip her: and stood in the porch to wish us _Godspeed!_ while +Sir Bevill help’d Delia to the saddle. + +So, with Billy tramping behind us, away we rode up the combe, where +Kilkhampton tower stood against the sky; and turning to wave hands at +the top, found our host and hostess still by the gate, watching us, with +hands rais’d to shield their eyes from the sun. + +The whole petty tale of this day’s ride I shall not dwell upon. Indeed, +I scarcely noted the miles as they pass’d. For all the way we were +chattering, Delia telling me how Captain Settle and his gang had hurried +her (tho’ without indignity) across Dartmoor to Ashburton, thence to +Lynton in North Devon, and so along the coast of Somerset to Bristol; +how they there produced a paper, at sight of which Sir Nathaniel +Fiennes, the new Governor, kept her under lock and key. And thus she +remained four months, at the end of which time they convey’d her on +board a sloop, call’d the _Fortitude_, and bound for the Virginias, +with the result that has been told. To all of which I listened greedily, +stealing from time to time a look at her shape, that on horseback was +graceful as a willow, and into her eyes that, under the flapping grey +brim, were gay and fancy-free as ever. + +“And did you,” asked I, “never at heart chide me for leaving you so!” + +“Why no. I never took thee for a conjurer, Jack.” + +“But, at least, you thought of me,” I urged. + +“Oh, dear—oh, dear!” She pull’d rein and look’d at me: “I remember now +that last night I kiss’d thee. Forget it, Jack: last night, so glad was +I to be sav’d, I could have kiss’d a cobbler. Indeed, Jack,” she went +on seriously, “I would that some maid had got hold of thee, in all these +months, to cure thy silly notions!” + +At Launceston, Billy Pottery took leave of us: and now went, due south, +toward Looe, with a light purse and lighter heart, undertaking that +his ship should lie off Gleys, with her crew ready for action, within +eight-and-forty hours. Delia and I rode faster now toward the southwest: +and having by this time recover’d my temper, I was recounting my flight +along this very road, when I heard a sound that brought my heart into my +mouth. + +’Twas the blast of a bugle, and came from behind the hill in front +of us. And at the same moment I understood. It must be Sir George +Chudleigh’s cavalry returning, on news of their comrades’ defeat, and we +were riding straight toward them, as into a trap. + +Now what could have made me forgetful of this danger I cannot explain, +unless it be that our thorough victory over the rebels had given me the +notion that the country behind us was clear of foes. And Sir Bevill +must have had a notion we were going straight to Looe with Billy. At +any rate, there was no time to be lost: for my presence was a danger to +Delia as well. I cast a glance about me. There was no place to hide. + +“Quick!” I cried; “follow me, and ride for dear life!” + +And striking spur into Molly I turn’d sharp off the road and gallop’d +across the moor to the left, with Delia close after me. + +We had gone about two hundred yards only when I heard a shout, and +glancing over my right shoulder, saw a green banner waving on the crest +of the road, and gathered about it the vanguard of the troop—some score +of dragoons: and these, having caught sight of us, were pausing a moment +to watch. + +The shout presently was followed by another; to which I made no answer, +but held on my way, with the nose of Delia’s horse now level with my +stirrup: for I guess’d that my dress had already betrayed us. And this +was the case; for at the next glance I saw five or six dragoons detach +themselves from the main body, and gallop in a direction at an acute +angle to ours. On they came, yelling to us to halt, and scattering over +the moor to intercept us. + +Not choosing, however, to be driven eastward, I kept a straight course +and trusted to our horses’ fleetness to carry us by them, out of reach +of their shot. In the pause of their first surprise we had stolen two +hundred yards more. I counted and found eight men thus in pursuit of +us: and to my joy heard the bugle blown again, and saw the rest of the +troop, now gathering fast above, move steadily along the road without +intention to follow. Doubtless the news of the Cornish success made them +thus wary of their good order. + +[Illustration: two arrows] + +Still, eight men were enough to run from; and now the nearest let fly +with his piece—more to frighten us, belike, than with any other view, +for we were far out of range. But it grew clear that if we held on our +direction they must cut us off: as you may see by these two arrows, the +long thin one standing for our own course, the thicker and shorter for +that of the dragoons. + +Only now with good hope I saw a hill rising not half a mile in front, +and somewhat to the right of our course: and thought I “if we can gain +the hollow to the left of it, and put the hill between us, they must +ride over it or round—in either case losing much time.” So, pointing +this out to Delia, who rode on my left (to leave my pistol arm free and +at the same time be screen’d by me from shot of the dragoons) I drove my +spurs deep and called to Molly to make her best pace. + +The enemy divin’d our purpose: and in a minute ’twas a desperate race +for the entrance to the hollow. But our horses were the faster, and we +the lighter riders; so that we won, with thirty yards to spare, from the +foremost:—not without damage, however; for finding himself baulked, +he sent a bullet at us which cut neatly through my off rein, so that my +bridle was henceforward useless and I could guide Molly with knee and +voice alone. Delia’s bay had shied at the sound of it, and likely enough +saved my mistress’ life by this; for the bullet must have pass’d within +a foot before her. + +Down the hollow we raced with three dragoons at our heels, the rest +going round the hill. But they did little good by so doing, for after +the hollow came a broad, dismal sheet of water (by name Dozmare Pool, +I have since heard) about a mile round and bank’d with black peat. +Galloping along the left shore of this, we cut them off by near half a +mile. But the three behind followed doggedly, though dropping back with +every stride. + +Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, which +we jump’d easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the further side, I +noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes brimful of mirth. + +“Say, Jack,” she cried; “is not this better than love of women?” + +“In Heaven’s name,” I called out, “take care!” + +But ’twas too late. The green valley here melted into a treacherous bog, +in the which her bay was already plunging over his fetlocks, and every +moment sinking deeper. + +“Throw me the rein!” I shouted, and catching the bridle close by the +bit, lean’d over and tried to drag the horse forward. By this, Molly +also was over hoofs in liquid mud. For a minute and more we heav’d and +splashed: and all the while the dragoons, seeing our fix, were shouting +and drawing nearer and nearer. But just as a brace of bullets splashed +into the slough at our feet, we stagger’d to the harder slope, and were +gaining on them again. So for twenty minutes along the spurs of the +hills, we held on, the enemy falling back and hidden, every now and +again, in the hollows—but always following: at the end of which time, +Delia call’d from just behind me— + +“Jack—here’s a to-do: the bay is going lame!” + +There was no doubt of it. I suppose he must have wrung his off hind leg +in fighting through the quag. Any way, ten minutes more would see the +end of his gallop. But at this moment we had won to the top of a +stiff ascent: and now, looking down at our feet, I had the joyfullest +surprise. + +’Twas the moor of Temple spread below like a map, the low sun striking +on the ruin’d huts to the left of us, on the roof of Joan’s cottage, on +the scar of the high road, and the sides of the tall tor above it. + +“In ten minutes,” said I, “we may be safe.” + +So down into the plain we hurried: and I thought for the first time of +the loyal girl waiting in the cottage yonder; of my former ride into +Temple; and (with angry shame) of the light heart with which I left it. +To what had the summoning drums and trumpets led me? Where was the new +life, then so carelessly prevented? But two days had gone, and here was +I running to Joan for help, as a child to his mother. + +Past the peat-ricks we struggled, the sheep-cotes, the straggling +fences—all so familiar; cross’d the stream and rode into the yard. + +“Jump down,” I whisper’d: “we have time, and no more.” Glancing back, I +saw a couple of dragoons already coming over the heights. They had spied +us. + +Dismounting I ran to the cottage door and flung it open. A stream of +light, flung back against the sun, blazed into my eyes. + +I rubbed them and halted for a moment stock-still. + +For Joan stood in front of me, dress’d in the very clothes I had worn +on the day we first met—buff-coat, breeches, heavy boots, and all. Her +back was toward me, and at the shoulder, where the coat had been cut +away from my wound, I saw the rents all darn’d and patch’d with pack +thread. In her hand was the mirror I had given her. + +At the sound of my step on the threshold she turn’d with a short cry—a +cry the like of which I have never heard, so full was it of choking joy. +The glass dropp’d to the floor and was shatter’d. In a second her +arms were about me, and so she hung on my neck, sobbing and laughing +together. + +“’Twas true—’twas true! Dear, dear Jack—dear Jack to come to me: hold +me tighter, tighter—for my very heart is bursting!” + +And behind me a shadow fell on the doorway: and there stood Delia +regarding us. + +“Good lad—all yesterday I swore to be strong and wait for years, if +need be. Fie on womankind, to be so weak! All day I sat an’ sat, an’ did +never a mite o’ work—never set hand to a tool: an’ by sunset I gave in +an’ went, cursing mysel’, over the moor to Warleggan, to Alsie Pascoe, +the wise woman—an’ she taught me a charm—an’ bless her, bless her, +Jack, for’t hath brought thee!” + +“Joan,” said I, hot with shame, taking her arms gently from my neck: +“listen: I come because I am chased. Once more the dragooners are after +me—not five minutes away. You must lend me a horse, and at once.” + +“Nay,” said a voice in the doorway, “the horse, if lent, is for _me!_” + +Joan turn’d, and the two women stood looking at each other;—the one +with dark wonder, the other with cold disdainfulness—and I between them +scarce lifting my eyes. Each was beautiful after her kind, as day and +night: and though their looks cross’d for a full minute like drawn +blades, neither had the mastery. Joan was the first to speak. + +“Jack, is thy mare in the yard?” + +I nodded. + +“Give me thy pistols and thy cloak.” She stepp’d to the window hole at +the end of the kitchen, and look’d out. “Plenty o’ time,” she said; and +pointed to the ladder leading to the loft above—“Climb up there, the +both, and pull the ladder after. Is’t _thou_, they want—or _she?_” + pointing to Delia. + +“Me chiefly they would catch, no doubt—being a man,” I answer’d. + +“Aye—bein’ a man: the world’s full o’ folly. Then Jack do thou look +after _her_, an’ I’ll look after _thee_. If the rebels leave thee in +peace, make for the Jews’ Kitchen and there abide me.” + +She flung my cloak about her, took my pistols and went out at the door. +As she did so, the sun sank and a dull shadow swept over the moor. +“Joan!” I cried, for now I guess’d her purpose and was following to +hinder her: but she had caught Molly’s bridle and was already astride of +her. “Get back!” she call’d softly; and then, “I make a better lad +than wench, Jack,”—leap’d the mare through a gap in the wall, and in a +moment was breasting the hill and galloping for the high road. + +In less than a minute, as it seem’d, I heard a pounding of hoofs, and +had barely time to follow Delia up the ladder and pull it after me, when +two of the dragoons rode skurrying by the house, and pass’d on yelling. +Their cries were hardly faint in the distance before there came another +three. + +“’A’s a lost man, now, for sure,” said one: “Be dang’d if ’a’s not took +the road back to Lan’son!” + +“How ’bout the gal?” ask’d another voice. “Here’s her horse i’ the +yard.” + +“Drat the gal! Sam, go thou an’ tackle her: reckon thou’rt warriors enow +for one ’ooman.” + +The two hasten’d on: and presently I heard the one they call’d “Sam” + dismounting in the yard. Now there was a window hole in the loft, +facing, not on the yard, but toward the country behind; and running +to it I saw that no more were following—the other three having, as I +suppose, early given up the chase. Softly pulling out a loose stone or +two, I widen’d this hole till I could thrust the ladder out of it. To my +joy it just reach’d the ground. I bade Delia squeeze herself through and +climb down. + +But before she was halfway down I heard a wild screech in the kitchen +below, and the voice of Sam shrieking— + +“Help—help! Lord ha’ mercy ’pon me—’tis a black cat—’tis a witch! The +gal’s no gal, but a witch!” + +Laughing softly, I was descending the ladder when the fellow came round +the corner screaming—with Jan Tergagle clawing at his back and spitting +murderously. Delia had just time to slip aside, before he ran into +the ladder and brought me flying on top of him. And there he lay and +bellow’d till I tied him, and gagg’d his noise with a big stone in his +mouth and his own scarf tied round it. + +“Come!” I whisper’d: for Joan and her pursuers were out of sight. +Catching up her long skirt, Delia follow’d me, and up the tor we panted +together, nor rested till we were safe in the Jews’ Kitchen. + +“What think you of this for a hiding place?” ask’d I, with a laugh. + +But Delia did not laugh. Instead, she faced me with blazing eyes, +check’d herself and answer’d, cold as ice— + +“Sir, you have done me a many favors. How I have trusted you in return +it were best for you to remember, and for me to forget.” + + * * * * * + +The dark drew on; the western star grew distinct and hung flashing over +against our hiding; and still we sat there, hour after hour, silent, +angry, waiting for Joan’s return, Delia at the entrance of the den, +chin on hand, scanning the heavens and never once turning toward me; I +further inside, with my arms cross’d, raging against myself and all the +world, yet with a sick’ning dread that Joan would never come back. + +As the time lagg’d by, this terror grew and grew. But, as I think, about +ten o’clock, I heard steps coming over the turf. I ran out. ’Twas Joan +herself and leading Molly by the bridle. She walk’d as if tir’d, and +leaving the mare at the entrance, follow’d me into the cave. Glancing +round, I noted that Delia had slipp’d away. + +“Am glad she’s gone,” said Joan shortly: “How many rebels pass’d this +way, Jack?” + +“Five, counting one that lies gagg’d and bound, down at the cottage.” + +“That leaves four:”—she stretch’d herself on the ground with a +sigh—“four that’ll never trouble thee more, lad.” + +“Why? how—” + +“Listen, lad: sit down an’ let me rest my head ’pon thy knee. Oh, Jack, +I did it bravely! Eight good miles an’ more I took the mare—by the +Four—hol’d Cross, an’ across the moor past Tober an’ Catshole, an’ over +Brown Willy, an’ round Roughtor to the nor’-west: an’ there lies the +bravest quag—oh, a black, bottomless hole!—an’ into it I led them; an’ +there they lie, every horse, an’ every mother’s son, till Judgment Day.” + +“Dead?” + +“Aye—an’ the last twain wi’ a bullet apiece in their skulls. Oh, rare! +Dear heart—hold my head—so, atween thy hands. ‘Put on his cast off +duds,’ said Alsie, ’an’ stand afore the glass, sayin’ “Come, true man!” + nine-an’-ninety time.’ I was mortal ’feard o’ losin’ count; but afore I +got to fifty, I heard thy step an’—hold me closer, Jack.” + +“But Joan, are these men dead, say you?” + +“Surely, yes. Why, lad, what be four rebels, up or down, to make this +coil over? Hast never axed after _me_!” + +“Joan—you are not hurt?” + +In the darkness I sought her eyes, and, peering into them, drew back. + +“Joan!” + +“Hush, lad—bend down thy head, and let me whisper. I went too near—an’ +one, that was over his knees, let fly wi’ his musket—an’ Jack, I have +but a minute or two. Hush lad, hush—there’s no call! Wert never the +man could ha’ tam’d me—art the weaker, in a way: forgie the word, for I +lov’d thee so, boy Jack!” + +Her arms were drawing down my face to her: her eyes dull with pain. + +“Feel, Jack—there—over my right breast. I plugg’d the wound wi’ a peat +turf. Pull it out, for ’tis bleeding inwards, and hurts cruelly—pull it +out!” + +As I hesitated, she thrust her own hand in and drew it forth, leaving +the hot blood to gush. + +“An’ now, Jack, tighter—hold me tighter. Kiss me—oh, what brave times! +Tighter, lad, an’ call wi’ me—‘Church an’ King!’ Call, lad—‘Church +an’—’” + +The warm arms loosen’d: the head sank back upon my lap. + +I look’d up. There was a shadow across the entrance, blotting out the +star of night. ’Twas Delia, leaning there and listening. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE. + + +The day-spring came at last, and in the sick light of it I went down to +the cottage for spade and pickaxe. In the tumult of my senses I hardly +noted that our prisoner, the dragoon, had contrived to slip his bonds +and steal off in the night. + +And then Delia, seeing me return with the sad tools on my shoulder, +spoke for the first time: + +“First, if there be a well near, fetch me two buckets of water, and +leave us for an hour.” + +Her voice was weary and chill: so that I dared not thank her, but did +the errand in silence. Then, but a dozen paces from the spot where +Joan’s father lay, I dug a grave and strew’d it with bracken, and +heather, and gorse petals, that in the morning air smell’d rarely. And +soon after my task was done, Delia call’d me. + +In her man’s dress Joan lay, her arms cross’d, her black tresses +braided, and her face gentler than ever ’twas in life. Over her wounded +breast was a bunch of some tiny pink flower, that grew about the tor. + +So I lifted her softly as once in this same place she had lifted me, +and bore her down the slope to the grave: and there I buried her, while +Delia knelt and pray’d, and Molly browsed, lifting now and then her head +to look. + +When all was done, we turn’d away, dry-eyed, and walked together to the +cottage. The bay horse was feeding on the moor below; and finding him +still too lame to carry Delia, I shifted the saddles, and mending the +broken rein, set her on Molly. The cottage door stood open, but we did +not enter; only look’d in, and seeing Jan Tergagle curl’d beside the +cold hearth, left him so. + +Mile after mile we pass’d in silence, Delia riding, and I pacing beside +her with the bay. At last, tortur’d past bearing, I spoke— + +“Delia, have you nothing to say?” + +For a while she seem’d to consider: then, with her eyes fix’d on the +hills ahead, answered— + +“Much, if I could speak: but all this has changed me somehow—’tis, +perhaps, that I have grown a woman, having been a girl—and need to get +used to it, and think.” + +She spoke not angrily, as I look’d for; but with a painful slowness that +was less hopeful. + +“But,” said I, “over and over you have shown that I am nought to you. +Surely—” + +“Surely I am jealous? ’Tis possible—yes, Jack, I am but a woman, and so +’tis certain.” + +“Why, to be jealous, you must love me!” + +She look’d at me straight, and answered very deliberate— + +“Now that is what I am far from sure of.” + +“But, dear Delia, when your anger has cool’d—” + +“My anger was brief: I am disappointed, rather. With her last breath, +almost, Joan said you were weaker than she: she lov’d you better than I, +and read you clearer. You _are_ weak. Jack”—she drew in Molly, and let +her hand fall on my shoulder very kindly—“we have been comrades for +many a long mile, and I hope are honest good friends; wherefore I loathe +to say a harsh or ungrateful-seeming word. But you could not understand +that brave girl, and you cannot understand me: for as yet you do not +even know yourself. The knowledge comes slowly to a man, I think; to a +woman at one rush. But when it comes, I believe you may be strong. Now +leave me to think, for my head is all of a tangle.” + +Our pace was so slow (by reason of the lame horse), that a great part of +the afternoon was spent before we came in sight of the House of Gleys. +And truly the yellow sunshine had flung some warmth about the naked +walls and turrets, so that Delia’s home-coming seem’d not altogether +cheerless. But what gave us more happiness was to spy, on the blue water +beyond, the bright canvas of the _Godsend_, and to hear the cries and +stir of Billy Pottery’s mariners as they haul’d down the sails. + +And Billy himself was on the lookout with his spyglass. For hardly +were we come to the beach when our signal—the waving of a white +kerchief—was answered by another on board; and within half an hour a +boat puts off, wherein, as she drew nearer, I counted eight fellows. + +They were (besides Billy), Matt. Soames, the master, Gabriel Hutchins, +Ned Masters, the black man Sampson, Ben Halliday, and two whose full +names I have forgot—but one was call’d Nicholas. And, after many warm +greetings, the boat was made fast, and we climbed up along the peninsula +together, in close order, like a little army. + +All this time there was no sign or sound about the House of Gleys to +show that anyone mark’d us or noted our movements. The gate was closed, +the windows stood shutter’d, as on my former visit: even the chimneys +were smokeless. Such effect had this desolation on our spirits, that +drawing near, we fell to speaking in whispers, and said Ned Masters— + +“Now a man would think us come to bury somebody!” + +“He might make a worse guess,” I answer’d. + +Marching up to the gate, I rang a loud peal on the bell; and to my +astonishment, before the echoes had time to die away, the grating was +push’d back, and the key turn’d in the lock. + +“Step ye in—step ye in, good folks! A sorry day,—a day of sobs an’ +tears an’ afflicted blowings of the nose—when the grasshopper is +a burden an’ the mourners go about seeking whom they may devour the +funeral meats. Y’ are welcome, gentlemen.” + +’Twas the voice of my one-eyed friend, as he undid the bolts; and now +he stood in the gateway with a prodigious black sash across his canary +livery, so long that the ends of it swept the flagstones. + +“Is Master Tingcomb within?” I helped Delia to dismount, and gave our +two horses to a stable boy that stood shuffling some paces off. + +“Alas!” the old man heav’d a deep sigh, and with that began to hobble +across the yard. We troop’d after, wondering. At the house door he +turn’d— + +“Sirs, there is cold roasted capons, an’ a ham, an’ radishes in +choice profusion for such as be not troubled wi’ the wind: an’ cordial +wines—alack the day!” + +He squeez’d a frosty tear from his one eye, and led us to a large bare +hall, hung round with portraits; where was a table spread with a plenty +of victuals, and horn-handled knives and forks laid beside plates of +pewter; and at the table a man in black, eating. He had straight hair +and a sallow face; and look’d up as we enter’d, but, groaning, in a +moment fell to again. + +“Eat, sirs,” the old servitor exhorted us: “alas! that man may take +nothing out o’ the world!” + +I know not who of us was most taken aback. But noting Delia’s sad +wondering face, as her eyes wander’d round the neglected room and rested +on the tatter’d portraits, I lost patience. + +“Our business is with Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” said I sharply. + +The straight-hair’d man look’d up again, his mouth full of ham. + +“Hush!”—he held his fork up, and shook his head sorrowfully: and I +wonder’d where I had seen him before. “Hast thou an angel’s wings?” he +ask’d. + +“Why, no, sir; but the devil’s own boots—as you shall find if I be not +answer’d.” + +“Young man—young man,” broke in the one-eyed butler: “our minister is a +good minister, an’ speaks roundabout as such: but the short is, that my +master is dead, an’ in his coffin.” + +“The mortal part,” corrected the minister, cutting another slice. + +“Aye, the immortal is a-trippin’ it i’ the New Jeroosalem: but the +mortal was very lamentably took wi’ a fit, three days back—the same +day, young man, as thou earnest wi’ thy bloody threats.” + +“A fit?” + +“Aye, sir, an’ verily—such a fit as thou thysel’ witness’d. ’Twas the +third attack—an’ he cried, ‘Oh!’ he did, an’ ‘Ah!’—just like that. +‘Oh!’ an’ then ‘Ah!’ Such were his last dyin’ speech. ‘Dear Master,’ +says I, ‘there’s no call to die so hard:’ but might so well ha’ +whistled, for he was dead as nails. A beautiful corpse, sirs, dang my +buttons!” + +“Show him to us.” + +“Willingly, young man.” He led the way to the very room where Master +Tingcomb and I had held our interview. As before, six candles were +burning there: but the table was push’d into a corner, and now their +light fell on a long black coffin, resting on trestles in the centre of +the room. The coffin was clos’d, and studded with silver nails; on +the lid was a silver plate bearing these words written—“_Hannibal +Tingcomb_, MDCXLIII.,” with a text of Scripture below. + +“Why have you nail’d him down?” I asked. + +“Now where be thy bowels, young man, to talk so unfeelin’? An’ where +be thy experience, not to know the ways o’ thy blessed dead in summer +time?” + +“When do you bury him?” + +“To-morrow forenoon. The spot is two mile from here.” He blinked at me, +and hesitated for a minute. “Is it your purpose, sirs, to attend?” + +“Be sure of that,” I said grimly. “So have beds ready to-night for all +our company.” + +“All thy—! Dear sir, consider: where are beds to be found? Sure, thy +mariners can pass the night aboard their own ship?” + +“So then,” thought I, “you have been on the lookout;” but Delia replied +for me— + +“I am Delia Killigrew, and mistress of this house. You will prepare the +beds as you are told.” Whereupon what does that decrepit old sinner but +drop upon his knees? + +“Mistress Delia! O goodly feast for this one poor eye! Oh, that Master +Tingcomb had seen this day!” + +I declare the tears were running down his nose; but Delia march’d out, +cutting short his hypocrisy. + +In the passage she whisper’d— + +“Villainy, Jack!” + +“Hush!” I answered, “and listen: _Master Tingcomb is no more in that +coffin than I._” + +“Then where is he?” + +“That is just what we are to discover.” As I said this a light broke on +me. “By the Lord,” I cried, “’tis the very same!” + +Delia open’d her eyes wide. + +“Wait,” I said: “I begin to touch ground.” + +We returned to the great hall. The straight-hair’d man was still eating, +and opposite sat Billy, that had not budg’d, but now beckoning to me, +very mysterious, whisper’d in a voice that made the plates rattle— + +“That’s—a damned—rogue!” + +’Twas discomposing, but the truth. In fact, I had just solv’d a puzzle. +This holy-speaking minister was no other than the groom I had seen at +Bodmin Fair holding Master Tingcomb’s horses. + +By this, the sun was down, and Delia soon made an excuse to withdraw to +her own room. Nor was it long before the rest followed her example. I +found our chambers prepared, near together, in a wing of the house at +some distance from the hall. Delia’s was next to mine, as I made sure by +knocking at her door: and on the other side of me slept Billy with two +of his crew. My own bed was in a great room sparely furnish’d; and the +linen indifferent white. There was a plenty of clean straw, tho’, on the +floor, had I intended to sleep—which I did not. + +Instead, having blown out my light, I sat on the bed’s edge, listening +to the big clock over the hall as it chim’d the quarters, and waiting +till the fellows below should be at their ease. That Master Tingcomb +rested under the coffin lid, I did not believe, in spite of the +terrifying fit that I could vouch for. But this, if driven to it, we +could discover at the grave. The main business was to catch him; and +to this end I meant to patrol the buildings, and especially watch the +entrance, on the likely chance of his creeping back to the house (if not +already inside), to confer with his fellow-rascals. + +As eleven o’clock sounded, therefore, I tapp’d on Billy’s wall; and +finding that Matt. Soames was keeping watch (as we had agreed upon), +slipp’d off my boots. Our rooms were on the first floor, over a straw +yard; and the distance to the ground an easy drop for a man. But wishing +to be silent as possible, I knotted two blankets together, and strapping +the end round the window mullion, swung myself down by one hand, holding +my boots in the other. + +I dropp’d very lightly, and look’d about. There was a faint moon up and +glimmering on the straw; but under the house was deep shadow, and along +this I crept. The straw yard led into the court before the stables, and +so into the main court. All this way I heard no sound, nor spied so much +as a speck of light in any window. The house door was clos’d, and the +bar fastened on the great gate across the yard. I turn’d the corner to +explore the third side of the house. + +Here was a group of outbuildings jutting out, and between them and the +high outer wall a narrow alley. ’Twas with difficulty I groped my way +here, for the passage was dark as pitch, and rendered the straiter by a +line of ragged laurels planted under the house; so that at every other +step I would stumble, and run my head into a bush. + +I had done this for the eighth time, and was cursing under my breath, +when on a sudden I heard a stealthy footfall coming down the alley +behind me. + +“Master Tingcomb, for a crown!” thought I, and crouch’d to one side +under a bush. The footsteps drew nearer. A dark form parted the laurels: +another moment, and I had it by the throat. + +“Uugh—ugh—grr! For the Lord’s sake, sir,—” + +I loos’d my hold: ’twas Matt. Soames. “Your pardon,” whisper’d I; “but +why have you left your post?” + +“Black Sampson is watchin’, so I took the freedom—ugh! my poor +windpipe!—to—” + +He broke off to catch me by the sleeve and pull me down behind the bush. +About twelve paces ahead I heard a door softly open’d and saw a shaft of +light flung across the path between the glist’ning laurels. As the ray +touch’d the outer wall, I mark’d a small postern gate there, standing +open. + +Cowering lower, we waited while a man might count fifty. Then came +footsteps crunching the gravel, and a couple of men cross’d the path, +bearing a large chest between them. In the light I saw the handle of a +spade sticking out from it: and by his gait I knew the second man to be +my one-ey’d friend. + +“Woe’s my old bones!” he was muttering: “here’s a fardel for a man o’ my +years!” + +“Hold thy breath for the next load!” growl’d the other voice, which as +surely was the good minister’s. + +They pass’d out of the small gate, and by the sounds that follow’d, +we guess’d they were hoisting their burden into a cart. Presently they +re-cross’d the path, and entered the house, shutting the door after +them. + +“Now for it!” said I in Matt’s ear. Gliding forward, I peep’d out at the +postern gate; but drew back like a shot. + +I had almost run my head into a great black hearse, that stood there +with the door open, back’d against the gate, the heavy plumes nodding +above it in the night wind. + +Who held the horses I had not time to see: but whispering to Matt, to +give me a leg up, clamber’d inside. “Quick!” I pull’d him after, and +crept forward. I wonder’d the man did not hear us: but by good luck the +horses were restive, and by his maudlin talk to them I knew he was three +parts drunk—on the funeral wines, doubtless. + +I crept along, and found the tool chest stow’d against the further end: +so, pulling it gently out, we got behind it. Tho’ Matt was the littlest +man of my acquaintance, ’twas the work of the world to stow ourselves in +such compass as to be hidden. By coiling up our limbs we managed it; but +only just before I caught the glimmer of a light and heard the pair of +rascals returning. + +They came very slow, grumbling all the way; and of course, I knew they +carried the coffin. + +“All right, Sim?” ask’d the minister. + +“Aye,” piped a squeaky voice by the horses heads (’twas the shuffling +stable boy), “aye, but look sharp! Lord, what sounds I’ve heerd! The +devil’s i’ the hearse, for sure!” + +“Now, Simmy,” the one-ey’d gaffer expostulated, “thou dostn’ think the +smoky King is a-took in, same as they poor folks upstairs? Tee-hee! +Lord, what a trick!—to come for Master Tingcomb, an’ find—aw +dear!—aw, bless my old ribs, what a thing is humor!” + +“Shut up!” grunted the minister. The end of the coffin was tilted up +into the hearse. “Push, old varmint!” + +“Aye-push, push! Where be my young, active sinews? What a shrivell’d +garment is all my comeliness! ‘The devil inside,’ says Simmy—haw, haw!” + +“Burn the thing! ’twon’t go in for the tool box. Push, thou cackling old +worms!” + +“Now so I be, but my natural strength is abated. ‘Yo-heave ho!’ like the +salted seafardingers upstairs. Push, push!” + +“Oh, my inwards!” groans poor Matt, under his breath, into whom the +chest was squeezing sorely. + +“Right at last!” says the minister. “Now, Simmy, nay lad, hand the reins +an’ jump up. There’s room, an’ you’ll be wanted.” + +The door was clapp’d-to, the three rogues climb’d upon the seat in +front: and we started. + +I hope I may never be call’d to pass such another half hour as that +which follow’d. As soon as the wheels left turf for the hard road, ’twas +jolt, jolt all the way; and this lying mainly down hill, the chest and +coffin came grinding into our ribs, and pressing till we could scarce +breathe. And I dared not climb out over them, for fear the fellows +should hear us; their chuckling voices coming quite plain to us from the +other side of the panel. I held out, and comforted Matt, as well as I +could, feeling sure we should find Master Tingcomb at our journey’s end. +Soon we climb’d a hill, which eas’d us a little; but shortly after were +bumping down again, and suffering worse than ever. + +“Save us,” moan’d Matt, “where will this end?” + +The words were scarce out, when we turn’d sharp to the right, with +a jolt that shook our teeth together, roll’d for a little while over +smooth grass, and drew up. + +I heard the fellows climbing down, and got my pistols out. + +“Simmy,” growl’d the minister, “where’s the lantern?” + +There was a minute or so of silence, and then the snapping of flint and +steel, and the sound of puffing. + +“Lit, Simmy?” + +“Aye, here ’tis.” + +“Fetch it along then.” + +The handle of the door was turn’d, and a light flash’d into the hearse. + +“Here, hold the lantern steady! Come hither, old Squeaks, and help wi’ +the end.” + +“Surely I will. Well was I call’d Young Look-alive when a gay, fleeting +boy. Simmy, my son, thou’rt sadly drunken. O youth, youth! Thou +winebibber, hold the light steady, or I’ll tell thy mammy!” + +“Oh, sir, I do mortally dread the devil an’ all his works!” + +“Now, if ever! The devil,’ says he—an’ Master Tingcomb still livin’, +an’ in his own house awaitin’ us!” + +Be sure, his words were as good as a slap in the face to me. For I had +counted the hearse to lead me straight to Master Tingcomb himself. “In +his own house,” too! A fright seiz’d me for Delia. But first I must deal +with these scoundrels, who already were dragging out the coffin. + +“Steady there!” calls the minister. The coffin was more than halfway +outside. I levell’d my pistol over the edge of the tool chest, and +fetch’d a yell fit to wake a ghost—at the same time letting fly +straight for the minister. + +In the flash of the discharge, I saw him, half-turn’d, his eyes +starting, and mouth agape. He clapp’d his hand to his shoulder. On top +of his wild shriek, broke out a chorus of screams and oaths, in the +middle of which the coffin tilted up and went over with a crash. +“Satan—Satan!” bawled Simmy, and, dropping the lantern, took to his +heels for dear life. At the same moment the horses took fright; and +before I could scramble out, we were tearing madly away over the turf +and into the darkness. I had made a sad mess of it. + +It must have been a full minute before the hedge turn’d them, and gave +me time to drop out at the back and run to their heads. Matt. Soames +was after me, quick as thought, and very soon we mastered them, and +gathering up the reins from between their legs, led them back. As luck +would have it, the lantern had not been quench’d by the fall, but lay +flaring, and so guided us. Also a curious bright radiance seem’d growing +on the sky, for which I could not account. The three knaves were nowhere +to be seen, but I heard their footsteps scampering in the distance, and +Simmy still yelling “Satan!” I knew my bullet had hit the minister; but +he had got away, and I never set eyes on any of the three again. + +Leaving Matt to mind the horses, I caught up the lantern, and look’d +about me. As well as could be seen, we were in a narrow meadow between +two hills, whereof the black slopes rose high above us. Some paces to +the right, my ear caught the noise of a stream running. + +I turn’d the lantern on the coffin, which lay face downward, and with a +gasp took in the game those precious rogues had been playing. For, with +the fall of it, the boards (being but thin) were burst clean asunder; +and on both sides had tumbled out silver cups, silver saltcellars, +silver plates and dishes, that in the lantern’s rays sparkled prettily +on the turf. The coffin, in short, was stuff’d with Delia’s silverware. + +I had pick’d up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the +inscription, when Matt. Soames call’d to me, and pointed over the hill +in front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing. + +“Sure,” said he, “’tis a fire out yonder!” + +“God help us, Matt.—’tis the House of Gleys!” + +It took but two minutes to toss the silver back into the hearse. I +clapp’d-to the door, and snatching the reins, sprang upon the driver’s +seat. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE. + + +We had some ado to find the gate: but no sooner were through, and upon +the high road, than I lash’d the horses up the hill at a gallop. To +guide us between the dark hedges we had only our lantern and the glare +ahead. The dishes and cups clash’d and rattled as the hearse bump’d in +the ruts, swaying wildly: a dozen times Matt, was near being pitch’d +clean out of his seat. With my legs planted firm, I flogg’d away like a +madman; and like mad creatures the horses tore upward. + +On the summit a glance show’d us all—the wild crimson’d sky—the sea +running with lines of fire—and against it the inky headland whereon +the House of Gleys flar’d like a beacon. Already from one wing—_our_ +wing—a leaping column of flame whirl’d up through the roof, and was +swept seaward in smoke and sparks. I mark’d the coast line, the cliff +tracks, the masts and hull of the _Godsend_ standing out, clear as day; +and nearer, the yellow light flickering over the fields of young corn. +We saw all this, and then were plunging down hill, with the blaze +full ahead of us. The heavy reek of it was flung in our nostrils as we +gallop’d. + +At the bottom we caught up a group of men running. ’Twas a boatload come +from the ship to help. As our horses swept past them, one or two came to +a terrified halt; but presently were running hard again after us. + +The great gate stood open. I drove straight into the bright-lit yard, +shouting “Delia!—where is Delia?” + +“Here!” call’d a voice; and from a group that stood under the glare of +the window came my dear mistress running. + +“All safe, Jack! But what—” She drew back from our strange equipage. + +“All in good time. First tell me—how came the fire?” + +“Why, foul work, as it seems. All I know is I was sleeping, and awoke to +hear the black seaman hammering on my door. Jumping up, I found the room +full of smoke, and escap’d. The rooms beneath, they say, were stuff’d +with straw, and the yard outside heap’d also with straw, and blazing. +Ben Halliday found two oil jars lying there—” + +“Are the horses out?” + +“Oh, Jack—I do not know! Shame on me to forget them!” + +I ran toward the stable. Already the roof was ablaze, and the straw +yard, beyond, a very furnace. Rushing in, I found the two horses +cowering in their stalls, bath’d in sweat, and squealing. But ’twas all +fright. So I fetch’d Molly’s saddle, and spoke to her, and set it across +her back: and the sweet thing was quiet in a moment, turning her head to +rub my sleeve gently with her muzzle: and followed me out like a lamb. +The bay gave more trouble; but I sooth’d him in the same manner, and +patting his neck, led him, too, into safety. + +By this, all hope to save the house was over: for the well in the court +yielded but twenty buckets before it ran dry, and after that no water +was to be had. Of the wing where the fire burst out only the walls +stood, and a few oaken rafters, that one by one came tumbling and +crashing. The flames had spread along the roof, and were now licking the +ceiling of the hall and spouting around the clock tower. In the roar and +hubbub, Billy’s men work’d like demons, dragging out chairs, chests, and +furniture of all kinds, which they strew’d in the yard, returning with +shouts for more. One was tearing down the portraits in the hall: another +was pulling out the great dresser from the kitchen: a third had found a +pile of tapestry and came staggering forth under the load of it. + +I had fasten’d the horses by the gate, and was ready to join in the +work, when a shout was rais’d— + +“Billy!—Where’s Billy Pottery? Has any seen the skipper?” + +“Sure,” I call’d, “you don’t say he was never alarm’d!” + +“Black Sampson was in his room—where’s Black Sampson?” + +“Here I be!” cried a voice. “To be sure I woke the skipper before any o’ +ye.” + +“Then where’s he hid? Did any see him come out?” + +“Now, that we have not!” answer’d one or two. + +I stood by the house door shouting these questions to the men inside, +when a hand was laid on my arm, and there in the shadow waited Billy +himself, with a mighty curious twinkle in his eye. He put a finger up +and signed that I should follow. + +We pass’d round the outbuildings where, three hours before, Matt. Soames +and I had hid together. I was minded to stop and pull on my boots, that +were hid here: but (and this was afterward the saving of me) on second +thoughts let them lie, and follow’d Billy, who now led me out by the +postern gate. + +Without speech we stepp’d across the turf, he a pace or two ahead. A +night breeze was blowing here, delicious after the heat of the fire. We +were walking quickly toward the east side of the headland, and soon +the blaze behind flung our shadows right to the cliff’s edge, for which +Billy made straight, as if to fling himself over. + +But when, at the very verge, he pull’d up, I became enlighten’d. At +our feet was an iron bar driven into the soil, and to it a stout rope +knotted, that ran over a block and disappeared down the cliff. I knelt +and, pulling at it softly, look’d up. It came easy in the hand. + +Billy, with the glare in his face, nodded: and bending to my ear, for +once achiev’d a whisper. + +“Saw one stealing hither—an’ follow’d. A man wi’ a limp foot—went over +the side like a cat.” + +I must have appeared to doubt this good fortune, for he added— + +“‘Be a truth speakin’ man i’ the main, Jack—’lay over ’pon my belly, +and spied a ledge—fifty feet down or less—’reckon there be a way +thence to the foot. Dear, now! what a rampin’, tearin’ sweat is this?” + +For, fast as I could tug, I was hauling up the rope. Near sixty feet +came up before I reach’d the end—a thick twisted knot. I rove a long +noose; pull’d it over my head and shoulders, and made Billy understand +he was to lower me. + +“Sit i’ the noose, lad, an’ hold round the knot. For sign to hoist +again, tug the rope hard. I can hold.” + +He paid it out carefully while I stepp’d to the edge. With the noose +about my loins I thrust myself gently over, and in a trice hung swaying. + +On three sides the sky compass’d me—wild and red, save where to +eastward the dawn was paling: on the fourth the dark rocky face seem’d +gliding upward as Billy lower’d. Far below I heard the wash of the sea, +and could just spy the white spume of it glimmering. It stole some of +the heart out of me, and I took my eyes off it. + +Some feet below the top, the cliff fetch’d a slant inward, so that I +dangled a full three feet out from the face. As a boy I had adventured +something of this sort on the north sides of Gable and the Pillar, and +once (after a nest of eaglets) on the Mickledore cliffs: but then ’twas +daylight. Now, tho’ I saw the ledge under me, about a third of the way +down, it look’d, in the darkness, to be so extremely narrow, that ’tis +probable I should have call’d out to Billy to draw me up but for the +certainty that he would never hear: so instead I held very tight and +wish’d it over. + +Down I sway’d (Billy letting out the rope very steady), and at last +swung myself inward to the ledge, gain’d a footing, and took a glance +round before slipping off the rope. + +I stood on a shelf of sandy rock that wound round the cliff some way to +my left, and then, as I thought, broke sharply away. ’Twas mainly about +a yard in width, but in places no more than two feet. In the growing +light I noted the face of the headland ribb’d with several of these +ledges, of varying length, but all hollow’d away underneath (as I +suppose by the sea in former ages), so that the cliff’s summit overhung +the base by a great way: and peering over I saw the waves creeping right +beneath me. + +Now all this while I had not let Master Tingcomb out of my mind. So I +slipp’d off the rope and left it to dangle, while I crept forward to +explore, keeping well against the rock and planting my feet with great +caution. + +I believe I was twenty minutes taking as many steps, when at the point +where the ledge broke off I saw the ends of an iron ladder sticking up, +and close beside it a great hole in the rock, which till now the curve +of the cliff had hid. The ladder no doubt stood on a second shelf below. + +I was pausing to consider this, when a bright ray stream’d across +the sea toward me, and the red rim of the sun rose out of the waters, +outfacing the glow on the headland, and rending the film of smoke that +hung like a curtain about the horizon. ’Twas as if by alchemy that the +red ripples melted to gold; and I stood watching with a child’s delight. + +I heard the sound of a footstep: and fac’d round. + +Before me, not six paces off, stood Hannibal Tingcomb. + +He was issuing from the hole with a sack on his shoulder, and sneaking +to descend the steps, when he threw a glance behind—and saw me! + +Neither spoke. With a face grey as ashes he turn’d very slowly, until in +the unnatural light we look’d straight into each other’s eyes. His never +blink’d, but stared—stared horribly, while the veins swell’d black on +his forehead and his lips work’d, attempting speech. No words came—only +a long drawn sob, deep down in his throat. + +And then, letting slip the sack, he flung his arms up, ran a pace or two +toward me, and tumbled on his face in a fit. His left shoulder hung over +the verge; his legs slipp’d. In a trice he was hanging by his arms, his +old distorted face turn’d up, and a froth about his lips. I made a step +to save him: and then jump’d back, flattening myself against the rock. + +The ledge was breaking. + +I saw a seam gape at my feet. I saw it widen and spread to right and +left. I heard a ripping, rending noise—a rush of stones and earth: and, +clawing the air, with a wild screech, Master Tingcomb pitch’d backward, +head over heels, into space. + +Then follow’d silence: then a horrible splash as he struck the water, +far below: then again a slipping and trickling, as more of the ledge +broke away—at first a pebble or two sliding—a dribble of earth—next, +a crash and a cloud of dust. A last stone ran loose and dropp’d. Then +fell a silence so deep I could catch the roar of the flames on the hill +behind. + +Standing there, my arms thrown back and fingers spread against the rock, +I saw a wave run out, widen, and lose itself on the face of the sea. +Under my feet but eight inches of the cornice remain’d. My toes stuck +forward over the gulf. + +[Illustration: The ledge was breaking.] + +A score of startled gulls with their cries call’d me to myself. I open’d +my eyes, that had shut in sheer giddiness. Close on my left the ledge +was broke back to the very base, cutting me off by twelve feet from that +part where the ladder still rested. No man could jump it, standing. To +the right there was no gap: but in one place only was the footing over +ten inches wide, and at the end my rope hung over the sea, a good yard +away from the edge. + +I shut my eyes and shouted. + +There was no answer. In the dead stillness I could hear the rafters +falling in the House of Gleys, and the shouts of the men at work. The +_Godsend_ lay around the point, out of sight. And Billy, deaf as a +stone, sat no doubt by his rope, placidly waiting my signal. + +I scream’d again and again. The rock flung my voice seaward. Across the +summit vaulted above, there drifted a puff of brown smoke. No one heard. + +A while of weakness followed. My brain reel’d: my fingers dug into the +rock behind till they bled. I bent forward—forward over the heaving +mist through which the sea crawl’d like a snake. It beckon’d me down, +that crawling water.... + +I stiffened my knees and the faintness pass’d. I must not look down +again. It flashed on me that Delia had call’d me weak: and I hardened my +heart to fight it out. I would face round to the cliff and work toward +the rope. + +’Twas a hateful moment while I turned: for to do so I must let go with +one hand. And the rock thrust me outward. But at last I faced the cliff; +waited a moment while my knees shook; and moving a foot cautiously to +the left, began to work my way along, an inch at a time. + +Looking down to guide my feet, I saw the waves twinkling beneath my +heels. My palms press’d the rock. At every three inches I was fain +to rest my forehead against it and gasp. Minute after minute went +by—endless, intolerable, and still the rope seem’d as far away as ever. +A cold sweat ran off me: a nausea possessed me. Once, where the ledge +was widest, I sank on one knee, and hung for a while incapable of +movement. But a black horror drove me on: and after the first dizzy +stupor my wits were mercifully wide awake. Sure, ’twas God’s miracle +preserv’d them to me, who looking at the sea and cliff and pitiless sun, +had almost denied Him and his miracles together. + +All the way I kept shouting: and so, for half an hour, inch by inch, +shuffled forward, until I stood under the rope. Then I had to turn +again. + +The rock, tho’ still overarching, here press’d out less than before: so +that, working round on the ball of my foot, I managed pretty easily. But +how to get the rope? As I said, it hung a good yard beyond the ledge, +the noose dangling some two feet below it. With my finger tips against +the cliff, I lean’d out and clutch’d at it. I miss’d it by a foot. +“Shall I jump?” thought I, “or bide here till help comes?” + +’Twas a giddy, awful leap. But the black horror was at my heels now. In +a minute more ’twould have me; and then my fall was certain. I call’d +up Delia’s face as she had taunted me. I bent my knees, and, leaving my +hold of the rock, sprang forward—out, over the sea. + +I saw it twinkle, fathoms below. My right hand touch’d—grasp’d the +rope: then my left, as I swung far out upon it. I slipp’d an inch—three +inches—then held, swaying wildly. My foot was in the noose. I heard a +shout above: and, as I dropp’d to a sitting posture, the rope began to +rise. + +“Quick! Oh, Billy, pull quick!” + +He could not hear; yet tugg’d like a Trojan. + +“Now, here’s a time to keep a man sittin’!” he shouted, as he caught +my hand, and pull’d me full length on the turf. “Why, lad—hast seen a +ghost?” + +There was no answer. The black horror had overtaken me at last. + + * * * * * + +They carried me to a shed in the great court of Gleys, and set me on +straw: and there, till far into the afternoon, I lay betwixt swooning +and trembling, while Delia bath’d my head in water from the sea, for no +other was to be had. And about four in the afternoon the horror left me, +so that I sat up and told my story pretty steadily. + +“What of the house?” I ask’d, when the tale was done, and a company sent +to search the east cliff from the beach. + +“All perish’d!” said Delia, and then smiling, “I am houseless as ever, +Jack.” + +“And have the same good friends.” + +“That’s true. But listen—for while you have lain here, Billy and I have +put our heads together. He is bound for Brest, he says, and has agreed +to take me and such poor chattels as are saved, to Brittany, where I +know my mother’s kin will have a welcome for me, until these troubles +be pass’d. Already the half of my goods is aboard the _Godsend_, and a +letter writ to Sir Bevill, begging him to appoint an honest man as my +steward. What think you of the plan?” + +“It seems a good plan,” I answer’d slowly: “the England that now is, is +no place for a woman. When do you sail?” + +“As soon as you are recovered, Jack.” + +“Then that’s now.” I got on my feet, and drew on my boots (that Matt. +Soames had found in the laurel bushes and brought). My knees trembled a +bit, but nothing to matter. + +“Art looking downcast, Jack.” + +Said I: “How else should I look, that am to lose thee in an hour or +more?” + +She made no reply to this, but turned away to give an order to the +sailors. + +The last of Delia’s furniture was hardly aboard, when we heard great +shouts of joy, and saw the men returning that had gone to search the +cliff. They bore between them three large oak coffers: which being +broke, we came on an immense deal of old plate and jewels, besides +over L300 in coined money. There were two more left behind, they said, +besides several small bags of gold. The path up the cliff was hard to +climb, and would have been impossible, but for the iron ladder they +found ready fix’d for Master Tingcomb’s descent. In the hole (that could +not be seen from the beach, the shelf hiding it) was tackle for lowering +the chest: and below a boat moor’d, and now left high and dry by the +tide. Doubtless, the arch-rascal had waited for his comrades to return, +whom Matt. Soames and I had scar’d out of all stomach to do so. His body +was nowhere found. + +The sea had wash’d it off: but the sack they recover’d, and found to +hold the choicest of Delia’s heirlooms. Within an hour the remaining +coffers and the money bags were safe in the vessel’s hold. + + * * * * * + +The sun was setting, as Delia and I stood on the beach, beside the boat +that was to take her from me. Aboard the _Godsend_ I could hear the +anchor lifting, and the men singing, as, holding Molly’s bridle, I held +out my hand to the dear maid who with me had shar’d so many a peril. + +“Is there any more to come?” she ask’d. + +“No,” said I, and God knows my heart was heavy: “nothing to come but +‘Farewell!’” + +She laid her small hand in my big palm, and glancing up, said very +pretty and demur— + +“_And shall I leave my best? Wilt not come, too, dear Jack?_” + +“Delia!” I stammer’d. “What is this? I thought you lov’d me not.” + +“And so did I, Jack: and thinking so, I found I loved thee better than +ever. Fie on thee, now! May not a maid change her mind without being +forced to such unseemly, brazen words?” And she heav’d a mock sigh. + +But as I stood and held that little hand, I seem’d across the very mist +of happiness to read a sentence written, and spoke it, perforce and +slow, as with another man’s mouth— + +“Delia, you only have I lov’d, and will love! Blithe would I be to live +with you, and to serve you would blithely die. In sorrow, then, call for +me, or in trust abide me. But go with you now—I may not.” + +She lifted her eyes, and looking full into mine, repeated slowly the +verse we had read at our first meeting— + + “‘In a wife’s lap, as in a grave, + Man’s airy notions mix with earth—’ +—thou hast found it, sweetheart—thou has found the Splendid Spur!” + +She broke off, and clapp’d her hands together very merrily; and then, as +a tear started— + +“But thou’lt come for me, ere long, Jack? Else I am sure to blame some +other woman. Stay—” + +She drew off her ring, and slipp’d it on my little finger. + +“There’s my token! Now give me one to weep and be glad over.” + +Having no trinkets, I gave my glove: and she kiss’d it twice, and put it +in her bosom. + +“I have no need of this ring,” said I: “for look!” and I drew forth +the lock I had cut from her dear head, that morning among the alders by +Kennet side, and worn ever since over my heart. + +“Wilt marry no man till I come?” + +“Now, that’s too hard a promise,” said she, laughing, and shaking her +curls. + +“Too hard!” + +“Why, of course. Listen, sweetheart—a true woman will not change her +mind: but, oh! she dearly loves to be able to! So, bating this, here’s +my hand upon it—now, fie, Jack! and before all these mariners!—well, +then if thou _must_—” + +* * * * * + +I watch’d her standing in the stern and waving, till she was under the +_Godsend’s_ side: then turn’d, and mounting Molly, rode inland to the +wars. + + +THE END. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 6437 ***
\ No newline at end of file diff --git a/6437-h/6437-h.htm b/6437-h/6437-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..987260c --- /dev/null +++ b/6437-h/6437-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10462 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>The Splendid Spur | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<style> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + +.pre {white-space: pre;} +.ph1, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } +.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } +.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 6437 ***</div> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h1> + THE SPLENDID SPUR + </h1> + + <div class="ph4">Being Memoirs of The Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, A Servant of His Late + Majesty King Charles I., In The Years 1642-3: Written by Himself: Edited + in Modern English by Q (Arthur T. Quiller Couch)</div> + + <p> + <br> + </p> + <h2> + By Arthur T. Quiller Couch + </h2> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <h3> + 1897 + </h3> + <h3> + TO + </h3> + <h3> + EDWARD GWYNNE EARDLEY-WILMOT. + </h3> + <h3> + <i>MY DEAR EDDIE,</i> + </h3> + <p> + Whatever view a story-teller may take of his business, ’tis happy when he + can think, “This book of mine will please such and such a friend,” and may + set that friend’s name after the title page. For even if to please (as + some are beginning to hold) should be no part of his aim, at least ’twill + always be a reward: and (in unworthier moods) next to a Writer I would + choose to be a Lamplighter, as the only other that gets so cordial a “God + bless him!” in the long winter evenings. + </p> + <p> + To win such a welcome at such a time from a new friend or two would be the + happiest fortune for my tale. But to you I could wish it to speak + particularly, seeing that under the coat of JACK MARVEL <i>beats the heart + of your friend</i> + </p> + <h3> + Q. + </h3> + <p> + <i>Torquay, August 22d</i>, 1889. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + INTRODUCTORY NOTE. + </h2></div> + <h3> + “Q.” + </h3> + <p> + A year or two ago it was observed that three writers were using the + curiously popular signature “Q.” This was hardly less confusing than that + one writer should use three signatures (Grant Allen, Arbuthnot Wilson, and + Anon), but as none of the three was willing to try another letter, they + had to leave it to the public (whose decision in such matters is final) to + say who is Q to it. The public said, Let him wear this proud letter who + can win it, and for the present at least it is in the possession of the + author of “The Splendid Spur” and “The Blue Pavilions.” It would seem, + too, as if it were his “to keep,” for “Q” is like the competition cups + that are only yours for a season, unless you manage to carry them three + times in succession. Mr. Quiller-Couch has been champion Q since 1890. + </p> + <p> + The interesting question is not so much, What has he done to be the only + prominent Q of these years, as Is he to be the Q of all time? If so, he + will do better work than he has yet done, though several of his latest + sketches—and one in particular—are of very uncommon merit. Mr. + Quiller-Couch is so unlike Mr. Kipling that one immediately wants to + compare them. They are both young, and they have both shown such promise + that it will be almost sad if neither can write a book to live—as, + of course, neither has done as yet. Mr. Kipling is the more audacious, + which is probably a matter of training. He was brought up in India, where + one’s beard grows much quicker than at Oxford, and where you not only + become a man (and a cynic) in a hurry, but see and hear strange things + (and print them) such as the youth of Oxford miss, or, becoming acquainted + with, would not dare insert in the local magazine of the moment. So Mr. + Kipling’s first work betokened a knowledge of the world that is by no + means to be found in “Dead Man’s Rock,” the first book published by Mr. + Quiller-Couch. On the other hand, it cannot truly be said that Mr. + Kipling’s latest work is stronger than his first, while the other writer’s + growth is the most remarkable thing about him. It is precisely the same + Mr. Kipling who is now in the magazines that was writing some years ago in + India (and a rare good Mr. Kipling too), but the Mr. Quiller-Couch of + to-day is the Quiller-Couch of “Dead Man’s Rock” grown out of recognition. + To compare their styles is really to compare the men. Mr. Kipling’s is the + more startling, the stronger (as yet), and the more mannered. Mark Twain, + it appears, said he reads Mr. Kipling for his style, which is really the + same thing as saying you read him for his books, though the American seems + only to have meant that he eats the beef because he likes the salt. It is + a journalistic style, aiming too constantly at sharp effects, always + succeeding in getting them. Sometimes this is contrived at the expense of + grammar, as when (a common trick with the author) he ends a story with + such a paragraph as “Which is manifestly unfair.” Mr. Quiller-Couch has + never sinned in this way, but his first style was somewhat turgid, even + melodramatic, and, compared with Mr. Kipling’s, lacked distinction. From + the beginning Mr. Kipling had the genius for using the right word twice in + three times (Mr. Stevenson only misses it about once in twelve), while Mr. + Quiller-Couch not only used the wrong word, but weighted it with + adjectives. The charge, however, cannot be brought against him to-day, for + having begun by writing like a Mr. Haggard not quite sure of himself (if + one can imagine such a Mr. Haggard), and changing to an obvious imitation + of Mr. Stevenson, he seems now to have made a style for himself. It is + clear and careful, but not as yet strong winged. Its distinctive feature + is that it is curiously musical. + </p> + <p> + “Dead Man’s Rock” is a capital sensational story to be read and at once + forgotten. It was followed by “The Astonishing History of Troy Town,” + which was humorous, and proved that the author owed a debt to Dickens. But + it was not sufficiently humorous to be remarkable for its humor, and it + will go hand in hand with “Dead Man’s Rock” to oblivion. Until “The + Splendid Spur” appeared Mr. Quiller-Couch had done little to suggest that + an artist had joined the ranks of the story-tellers. It is not in anyway a + great work, but it was among the best dozen novels of its year, and as the + production of a new writer it was one of the most notable. About the same + time was published another historical romance of the second class (for to + nothing short of Sir Walter shall we give a first-class in this + department), “Micah Clarke,” by Mr. Conan Doyle. It was as inevitable that + the two books should be compared as that he who enjoyed the one should + enjoy the other. In one respect “Micah Clarke” is the better story. It + contains one character, a soldier of fortune, who is more memorable than + any single figure in “The Splendid Spur.” This, however, is effected at a + cost, for this man is the book. It contains, indeed, two young fellows, + one of them a John Ridd, but no Diana Vernon would blow a kiss to either. + Both stories are weak in pathos, despite Joan, but there are a score of + humorous situations in “The Splendid Spur” that one could not forget if he + would—which he would not—as, for instance, where hero and + heroine are hidden in barrels in a ship, and hero cries through his + bunghole, “Wilt marry me, sweetheart?” to which heroine replies, “Must get + out of this cask first.” Better still is the scene in which Captain Billy + expatiates, with a mop and a bucket, on the merits of his crew. But the + passages are for reading, not for hearing about. Of the characters, this + same Captain Billy is not the worst, but perhaps the best is Joan, Mr. + Quiller-Couch’s first successful picture of a girl. A capital eccentric + figure is killed (some good things are squandered in this book) just when + we are beginning to find him a genuine novelty. Anything that is ready to + leap into danger seems to be thought good enough for the hero of a + fighting romance, so that Jack Marvel will pass (though Delia, as is right + and proper, is worth two of him, despite her coming-on disposition). The + villain is a failure, and the plot poor. Nevertheless there are some + ingenious complications in it. Jack’s escape by means of the hangman’s + rope, which was to send him out of the world in a few hours, is a fine + rollicking bit of sensation. Where Mr. Quiller-Couch and Mr. Conan Doyle + both fail as compared with the great master of romance is in the + introduction of historical figures and episodes. Scott would have been a + great man if he had written no novel but “The Abbott” (one of his second + best), and no part of “The Abbott” but the scene in which Mary signs away + her crown. Mr. Quiller-Couch almost entirely avoids such attempts, and + even Mr. Conan Doyle only dips into them timidly. There is, one has been + told, a theory that the romancist has no right to picture history in this + way. But he makes his rights when he does it as Scott did it. + </p> + <p> + Since “The Splendid Spur,” Mr. Quiller-Couch has published nothing in book + form which can be considered an advance on his best novel, but there have + appeared by him a number of short Cornish sketches, which are perhaps best + considered as experiments. They are perilously slight, and where they are + successful one remembers them as sweet dreams or like a bar of music. All + aim at this effect, so that many should not be taken at a time, and some + (as was to be expected with such delicate work) miss their mark. It might + be said that in several of these melodies Mr. Quiller-Couch has been + writing the same thing again and again, determined to succeed absolutely, + if not this time then the next, and if not the next time then the time + after. In one case he has succeeded absolutely. “The Small People,” is a + prose “Song of the Shirt.” To my mind this is a rare piece of work, and + the biggest thing for its size that has been done in English fiction for + some years. + </p> + <p> + These sketches have been called experiments. They show (as his books + scarcely show) that Mr. Quiller-Couch can feel. They suggest that he may + be able to do for Cornwall what Mr. Hardy has done for Dorset—though + the methods of the two writers are as unlike as their counties. But that + can only be if in filling his notebook with these little comedies and + tragedies Mr. Quiller-Couch is preparing for more sustained efforts. + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Our hope and heart is with thee + We will stand and mark.” + </div> + <h3> + J. M. BARRIE. + </h3> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> INTRODUCTORY NOTE. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>THE SPLENDID SPUR.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. — THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE + “CROWN.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. — THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF + AMBER SATIN, </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. — I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN + BRAWL: AND BARELY ESCAPE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. — I TAKE THE ROAD. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. — MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE + CUPS.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. — THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. — I FIND A COMRADE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. — I LOSE THE KING’S LETTER; + AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. — I BREAK OUT OF PRISON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. — CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN + SETTLE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. — I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND + AM WELL TREATED THERE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. — HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF + THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK DOWN. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. — I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT + BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. — I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF + GLEYS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. — I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE + WARS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. — THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD + HEATH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. — I MEET WITH A HAPPY + ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT.</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. — JOAN DOES ME HER LAST + SERVICE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; + AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + + <div class="ph1">THE SPLENDID SPUR.</div> + + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER I. — THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE “CROWN.” + </h2></div> + <p> + He that has jilted the Muse, forsaking her gentle pipe to follow the drum + and trumpet, shall fruitlessly besiege her again when the time comes to + sit at home and write down his adventures. ’Tis her revenge, as I am + extremely sensible: and methinks she is the harder to me, upon reflection + how near I came to being her lifelong servant, as you are to hear. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas on November 29th, Ao. 1642—a clear, frosty day—that the + King, with the Prince of Wales (newly recovered of the measles), the + Princes Rupert and Maurice, and a great company of lords and gentlemen, + horse and foot, came marching back to us from Reading. I was a scholar of + Trinity College in Oxford at that time, and may begin my history at three + o’clock on the same afternoon, when going (as my custom was) to Mr. Rob. + Drury for my fencing lesson, I found his lodgings empty. + </p> + <p> + They stood at the corner of Ship Street, as you turn into the Corn Market—a + low wainscoted chamber, ill-lighted but commodious. “He is off to see the + show,” thought I as I looked about me; and finding an easy cushion in the + window, sat down to await him. Where presently, being tired out (for I had + been carrying a halberd all day with the scholars’ troop in Magdalen + College Grove), and in despite of the open lattice, I fell sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + It must have been an hour after that I awoke with a chill (as was + natural), and was stretching out a hand to pull the window close, but + suddenly sat down again and fell to watching instead. + </p> + <p> + The window look’d down, at the height of ten feet or so, upon a + bowling-green at the back of the “Crown” Tavern (kept by John Davenant, in + the Corn Market), and across it to a rambling wing of the same inn; the + fourth side—that to my left—being but an old wall, with a + broad sycamore growing against it. ’Twas already twilight; and in the + dark’ning house, over the green, was now one casement brightly lit, the + curtains undrawn, and within a company of noisy drinkers round a table. + They were gaming, as was easily told by their clicking of the dice and + frequent oaths: and anon the bellow of some tipsy chorus would come + across. ’Twas one of these catches, I dare say, that woke me: only just + now my eyes were bent, not toward the singers, but on the still lawn + between us. + </p> + <p> + The sycamore, I have hinted, was a broad tree, and must, in summer, have + borne a goodly load of leaves: but now, in November, these were strewn + thick over the green, and nothing left but stiff, naked boughs. Beneath it + lay a crack’d bowl or two on the rank turf, and against the trunk a garden + bench rested, I suppose for the convenience of the players. On this a man + was now seated. + </p> + <p> + He was reading in a little book; and this first jogged my curiosity: for + ’twas unnatural a man should read print at this dim hour, or, if he had a + mind to try, should choose a cold bowling-green for his purpose. Yet he + seemed to study his volume very attentively, but with a sharp look, now + and then, toward the lighted window, as if the revellers disturb’d him. + His back was partly turn’d to me; and what with this and the growing dusk, + I could but make a guess at his face: but a plenty of silver hair fell + over his fur collar, and his shoulders were bent a great deal. I judged + him between fifty and sixty. For the rest, he wore a dark, simple suit, + very straitly cut, with an ample furr’d cloak, and a hat rather tall, + after the fashion of the last reign. + </p> + <p> + Now, why the man’s behavior so engaged me, I don’t know: but at the end of + half an hour I was still watching him. By this, ’twas near dark, bitter + cold, and his pretence to read mere fondness: yet he persevered—though + with longer glances at the casement above, where the din at times was fit + to wake the dead. + </p> + <p> + And now one of the dicers upsets his chair with a curse, and gets on his + feet. Looking up, I saw his features for a moment—a slight, pretty + boy, scarce above eighteen, with fair curls and flush’d cheeks like a + girl’s. It made me admire to see him in this ring of purple, villainous + faces. ’Twas evident he was a young gentleman of quality, as well by his + bearing as his handsome cloak of amber satin barr’d with black. “I think + the devil’s in these dice!” I heard him crying, and a pretty hubbub all + about him: but presently the drawer enters with more wine, and he sits + down quietly to a fresh game. + </p> + <p> + As soon as ’twas started, one of the crew, that had been playing but was + now dropp’d out, lounges up from his seat, and coming to the casement + pushes it open for fresh air. He was one that till now had sat in full + view—a tall bully, with a gross pimpled nose; and led the catches in + a bull’s voice. The rest of the players paid no heed to his rising; and + very soon his shoulders hid them, as he lean’d out, drawing in the cold + breath. + </p> + <p> + During the late racket I had forgot for a while my friend under the + sycamore, but now, looking that way, to my astonishment I saw him risen + from his bench and stealing across to the house opposite. I say + “stealing,” for he kept all the way to the darker shadow of the wall, and + besides had a curious trailing motion with his left foot as though the + ankle of it had been wrung or badly hurt. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was come beneath the window he stopped and called softly— + </p> + <p> + “Hist!” + </p> + <p> + The bully gave a start and look’d down. I could tell by this motion he did + not look to find anyone in the bowling-green at that hour. Indeed he had + been watching the shaft of light thrown past him by the room behind, and + now moved so as to let it fall on the man that addressed him. + </p> + <p> + The other stands close under the window, as if to avoid this, and calls + again— + </p> + <p> + “Hist!” says he, and beckons with a finger. + </p> + <p> + The man at the window still held his tongue (I suppose because those in + the room would hear him if he spoke), and so for a while the two men + studied one another in silence, as if considering their next moves. + </p> + <p> + After a bit, however, the bully lifted a hand, and turning back into the + lighted room, walks up to one of the players, speaks a word or two and + disappears. + </p> + <p> + I sat up on the window seat, where till now I had been crouching for fear + the shaft of light should betray me, and presently (as I was expecting) + heard the latch of the back perch gently lifted, and spied the heavy form + of the bully coming softly over the grass. + </p> + <p> + Now, I would not have my readers prejudiced, and so may tell them this was + the first time in my life I had played the eavesdropper. That I did so now + I can never be glad enough, but ’tis true, nevertheless, my conscience + pricked me; and I was even making a motion to withdraw when that occurred + which would have fixed any man’s attention, whether he wish’d it or no. + </p> + <p> + The bully must have closed the door behind him but carelessly, for hardly + could he take a dozen steps when it opened again with a scuffle, and the + large house dog belonging to the “Crown” flew at his heels with a vicious + snarl and snap of the teeth. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas enough to scare the coolest. But the fellow turn’d as if shot, and + before he could snap again, had gripped him fairly by the throat. The + struggle that follow’d I could barely see, but I heard the horrible sounds + of it—the hard, short breathing of the man, the hoarse rage working + in the dog’s throat—and it turned me sick. The dog—a mastiff—was + fighting now to pull loose, and the pair swayed this way and that in the + dusk, panting and murderous. + </p> + <p> + I was almost shouting aloud—feeling as though ’twere my own throat + thus gripp’d—when the end came. The man had his legs planted well + apart. + </p> + <p> + I saw his shoulders heave up and bend as he tightened the pressure of his + fingers; then came a moment’s dead silence, then a hideous gurgle, and the + mastiff dropped back, his hind legs trailing limp. + </p> + <p> + The bully held him so for a full minute, peering close to make sure he was + dead, and then without loosening his hold, dragged him across the grass + under my window. By the sycamore he halted, but only to shift his hands a + little; and so, swaying on his hips, sent the carcase with a heave over + the wall. I heard it drop with a thud on the far side. + </p> + <p> + During this fierce wrestle—which must have lasted about two minutes—the + clatter and shouting of the company above had gone on without a break; and + all this while the man with the white hair had rested quietly on one side, + watching. But now he steps up to where the bully stood mopping his face + (for all the coolness of the evening), and, with a finger between the + leaves of his book, bows very politely. + </p> + <p> + “You handled that dog, sir, choicely well,” says he, in a thin voice that + seemed to have a chuckle hidden in it somewhere. + </p> + <p> + The other ceased mopping to get a good look at him. + </p> + <p> + “But sure,” he went on, “’twas hard on the poor cur, that had never heard + of Captain Lucius Higgs—” + </p> + <p> + I thought the bully would have had him by the windpipe and pitched him + after the mastiff, so fiercely he turn’d at the sound of this name. But + the old gentleman skipped back quite nimbly and held up a finger. + </p> + <p> + “I’m a man of peace. If another title suits you better—” + </p> + <p> + “Where the devil got you that name?” growled the bully, and had half a + mind to come on again, but the other put in briskly— + </p> + <p> + “I’m on a plain errand of business. No need, as you hint, to mention + names; and therefore let me present myself as Mr. Z. The residue of the + alphabet is at your service to pick and choose from.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Luke Settle,” said the big man hoarsely (but whether this was + his natural voice or no I could not tell). + </p> + <p> + “Let us say ‘Mr. X.’ I prefer it.” + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman, as he said this, popped his head on one side, laid the + forefinger of his right hand across the book, and seem’d to be + considering. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you throttle that dog a minute ago?” he asked sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Why, to save my skin,” answers the fellow, a bit puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Would you have done it for fifty pounds?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, or half that.” + </p> + <p> + “And how if it had been a <i>puppy</i>, Mr. X?” + </p> + <p> + Now all this from my hiding I had heard very clearly, for they stood right + under me in the dusk. But as the old gentleman paused to let his question + sink in, and the bully to catch the drift of it before answering, one of + the dicers above struck up to sing a catch—— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “With a hey, trolly-lolly! a leg to the Devil, + And answer him civil, and off with your cap: + Sing—Hey, trolly-lolly! Good-morrow, Sir Evil, + We’ve finished the tap, + And, saving your worship, we care not a rap!” + </div> + <p> + While this din continued, the stranger held up one forefinger again, as if + beseeching silence, the other remaining still between the pages of his + book. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty boys!” he said, as the noise died away; “pretty boys! ’Tis easily + seen they have a bird to pluck.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s none of my plucking.” + </p> + <p> + “And if he were, why not? Sure you’ve picked a feather or two before now + in the Low Countries—hey?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you what,” interrupts the big man, “next time you crack one of + your death’s-head jokes, over the wall you go after the dog. What’s to + prevent it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, this,” answers the old fellow, cheerfully. “There’s money to be made + by doing no such thing. And I don’t carry it all about with me. So, as + ’tis late, we’d best talk business at once.” + </p> + <p> + They moved away toward the seat under the sycamore, and now their words + reached me no longer—only the low murmur of their voices or (to be + correct) of the elder man’s: for the other only spoke now and then, to put + a question, as it seemed. Presently I heard an oath rapped out and saw the + bully start up. “Hush, man!” cried the other, and “hark-ye now—”; so + he sat down again. Their very forms were lost within the shadow. I, + myself, was cold enough by this time and had a cramp in one leg—but + lay still, nevertheless. And after awhile they stood up together, and came + pacing across the bowling-green, side by side, the older man trailing his + foot painfully to keep step. You may be sure I strain’d my ears. + </p> + <p> + “—besides the pay,” the stranger was saying, “there’s all you can + win of this young fool, Anthony, and all you find on the pair, which I’ll + wager—” + </p> + <p> + They passed out of hearing, but turned soon, and came back again. The big + man was speaking this time. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll be shot if I know what game <i>you’re</i> playing in this.” + </p> + <p> + The elder chuckled softly. “I’ll be shot if I mean you to,” said he. + </p> + <p> + And this was the last I heard. For now there came a clattering at the door + behind me, and Mr. Robert Drury reeled in, hiccuping a maudlin ballad + about “<i>Tib and young Colin, one fine day, beneath the haycock shade-a</i>,” + &c., &c., and cursing to find his fire gone out, and all in + darkness. Liquor was ever his master, and to-day the King’s health had + been a fair excuse. He did not spy me, but the roar of his ballad had + startled the two men outside, and so, while he was stumbling over chairs, + and groping for a tinder-box, I slipp’d out in the darkness, and + downstairs into the street. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER II. — THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN, + </h2></div> + <p> + Guess, any of you, if these events disturbed my rest that night. ’Twas + four o’clock before I dropp’d asleep in my bed in Trinity, and my last + thoughts were still busy with the words I had heard. Nor, on the morrow, + did it fair any better with me: so that, at rhetoric lecture, our + president—Dr. Ralph Kettle—took me by the ears before the + whole class. He was the fiercer upon me as being older than the gross of + my fellow-scholars, and (as he thought) the more restless under + discipline. “A tutor’d adolescence,” he would say, “is a fair grace before + meat,” and had his hourglass enlarged to point the moral for us. But even + a rhetoric lecture must have an end, and so, tossing my gown to the + porter, I set off at last for Magdalen Bridge, where the new barricado was + building, along the Physic Garden, in front of East Gate. + </p> + <p> + The day was dull and low’ring, though my wits were too busy to heed the + sky; but scarcely was I past the small gate in the city wall when a brisk + shower of hail and sleet drove me to shelter in the Pig Market ( or <i>Proscholium</i>) + before the Divinity School. ’Tis an ample vaulted passage, as I dare say + you know; and here I found a great company of people already driven by the + same cause. + </p> + <p> + To describe them fully ’twould be necessary to paint the whole state of + our city in those distracted times, which I have neither wit nor time for. + But here, to-day, along with many doctors and scholars, were walking + courtiers, troopers, mountebanks, cut-purses, astrologers, rogues and + gamesters; together with many of the first ladies and gentlemen of + England, as the Prince Maurice, the lords Andover, Digby and Colepepper, + my lady Thynne, Mistress Fanshawe, Mr. Secretary Nicholas, the famous Dr. + Harvey, arm-in-arm with my lord Falkland (whose boots were splash’d with + mud, he having ridden over from his house at Great Tew), and many such, + all mix’d in this incredible tag-rag. Mistress Fanshawe, as I remember, + was playing on a lute, which she carried always slung about her shoulders: + and close beside her, a fellow impudently puffing his specific against the + <i>morbus campestris</i>, which already had begun to invade us. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Who’ll buy?</i>” he was bawling. “<i>’Tis from the receipt of a famous + Italian, and never yet failed man, woman, nor child, unless the heart were + clean drown’d in the disease: the lest part of it good muscadine, and has + virtue against the plague, smallpox, or surfeits!</i>” + </p> + <p> + I was standing before this jackanapes, when I heard a stir in the crowd + behind me, and another calling, “<i>Who’ll buy? Who’ll buy?</i>” + </p> + <p> + Turning, I saw a young man, very gaily dressed, moving quickly about at + the far end of the Pig Market, and behind him an old lackey, bent double + with the weight of two great baskets that he carried. The baskets were + piled with books, clothes, and gewgaws of all kinds; and ’twas the young + gentleman that hawked his wares himself. “<i>What d’ye lack?</i>” he kept + shouting, and would stop to unfold his merchandise, holding up now a book, + and now a silk doublet, and running over their merits like any huckster—but + with the merriest conceit in the world. + </p> + <p> + And yet ’twas not this that sent my heart flying into my mouth at the + sight of him. For by his curls and womanish face, no less than the amber + cloak with the black bars, I knew him at once for the same I had seen + yesterday among the dicers. + </p> + <p> + As I stood there, drawn this way and that by many reflections, he worked + his way through the press, selling here and there a trifle from his + baskets, and at length came to a halt in front of me. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” he cried, pulling off his plumed hat, and bowing low, “a scholar, I + perceive. Let me serve you, sir. Here is the ‘History of Saint George,’” + and he picked out a thin brown quarto and held it up; “written by Master + Peter Heylin; a ripe book they tell me (though, to be sure, I never read + beyond the title), and the price a poor two shillings.” + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: “A scholar, I perceive. Let me serve you sir?”—Page + 30.] + </p> + <p> + Now, all this while I was considering what to do. So, as I put my hand in + my pocket, and drew out the shillings, I said very slowly, looking him in + the eyes (but softly, so that the lackey might not hear)—— + </p> + <p> + “So thus you feed your expenses at the dice: and my shilling, no doubt, is + for Luke Settle, as well as the rest.” + </p> + <p> + For the moment, under my look, he went white to the lips; then clapped his + hand to his sword, withdrew it, and answered me, red as a turkey-cock—— + </p> + <p> + “Shalt be a parson, yet, Master Scholar: but art in a damn’d hurry, it + seems.” + </p> + <p> + Now, I had ever a quick temper, and as he turned on his heel, was like to + have replied and raised a brawl. My own meddling tongue had brought the + rebuff upon me: but yet my heart was hot as he walked away. + </p> + <p> + I was standing there and looking after him, turning over in my hand the + “Life of Saint George,” when my fingers were aware of a slip of paper + between the pages. Pulling it out, I saw ’twas scribbled over with writing + and figures, as follows:— + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Anthony Killigrew, his acct for Oct. 25th, MDCXLII.—<i>For + herrings</i>, 2d.; <i>for coffie</i>, 4d.; <i>for scowring my coat</i>, + 6d.; <i>at bowls</i>, 5s. 10d.; <i>for bleading me</i>, 1s. 0d.; <i>for ye + King’s speech</i>, 3d.; <i>for spic’d wine (with Marjory)</i>, 2s. 4d.; <i>for + seeing ye Rhinoceros</i>, 4d.; <i>at ye Ranter-go-round</i>, 6 ¾d.; <i>for + a pair of silver buttons</i>, 2s. 6d.; <i>for apples</i>, 2 ½d.; <i>for + ale</i>, 6d.; <i>at ye dice</i>, L17 5s.; <i>for spic’d wine (again)</i>, + 4s. 6d.” + </p> + <p> + And so on. + </p> + <p> + As I glanced my eye down this paper, my anger oozed away, and a great + feeling of pity came over me, not only at the name of Anthony—the + name I had heard spoken in the bowling-green last night—but also to + see that monstrous item of L17 odd spent on the dice. ’Twas such a boy, + too, after all, that I was angry with, that had spent fourpence to see the + rhinoceros at a fair, and rode on the ranter-go-round (with “Marjory,” no + doubt, as ’twas for her, no doubt, the silver buttons were bought). So + that, with quick forgiveness, I hurried after him, and laid a hand on his + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + He stood by the entrance, counting up his money, and drew himself up very + stiff. + </p> + <p> + “I think, sir,” said I, “this paper is yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you,” he answered, taking it, and eyeing me. “Is there anything, + besides, you wished to say?” + </p> + <p> + “A great deal, maybe, if your name be Anthony.” + </p> + <p> + “Master Anthony Killigrew is my name, sir; now serving under Lord Bernard + Stewart in His Majesty’s troop of guards.” + </p> + <p> + “And mine is Jack Marvel,” said I. “Of the Yorkshire Marvels?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; though but a shoot of that good stock, transplanted to + Cumberland, and there sadly withered.” + </p> + <p> + “’Tis no matter, sir,” said he politely; “I shall be proud to cross swords + with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, bless your heart!” I cried out, full of laughter at this childish + punctilio; “d’ye think I came to fight you?” + </p> + <p> + “If not, sir”—and he grew colder than ever—“you are going a + cursed roundabout way to avoid it.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this, finding no other way out of it, I began my tale at once: but + hardly had come to the meeting of the two men on the bowling-green, when + he interrupts me politely—— + </p> + <p> + “I think, Master Marvel, as yours is like to be a story of some moment, I + will send this fellow back to my lodgings. He’s a long-ear’d dog that I am + saving from the gallows for so long as my conscience allows me. The shower + is done, I see; so if you know of a retir’d spot, we will talk there more + at our leisure.” + </p> + <p> + He dismiss’d his lackey, and stroll’d off with me to the Trinity Grove, + where, walking up and down, I told him all I had heard and seen the night + before. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said I, “can you tell me if you have any such enemy as this + white-hair’d man, with the limping gait?” + </p> + <p> + He had come to a halt, sucking in his lips and seeming to reflect— + </p> + <p> + “I know one man,” he began: “but no—’tis impossible.” + </p> + <p> + As I stood, waiting to hear more, he clapp’d his hand in mine, very quick + and friendly: “Jack,” he cried;—“I’ll call thee Jack—’twas an + honest good turn thou hadst in thy heart to do me, and I a surly rogue to + think of fighting—I that could make mincemeat of thee.” + </p> + <p> + “I can fence a bit,” answer’d I. “Now, say no more, Jack: I love + thee.” + </p> + <p> + He look’d in my face, still holding my hand and smiling. Indeed, there was + something of the foreigner in his brisk graceful ways—yet not + unpleasing. I was going to say I had never seen the like—ah, me! + that both have seen and know the twin image so well. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said I, “you had better be considering what to do.” + </p> + <p> + He laugh’d outright this time; and resting with his legs cross’d, against + the trunk of an elm, twirl’d an end of his long lovelocks, and looked at + me comically. Said he: “Tell me, Jack, is there aught in me that offends + thee?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” I answered. “I think you’re a very proper young man—such + as I should loathe to see spoil’d by Master Settle’s knife.” + </p> + <p> + “Art not quick at friendship, Jack, but better at advising; only in this + case fortune has prevented thy good offices. Hark ye,” he lean’d forward + and glanc’d to right and left, “if these twain intend my hurt—as + indeed ’twould seem—they lose their labor: for this very night I + ride from Oxford.” + </p> + <p> + “And why is that?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell thee, Jack, tho’ I deserve to be shot. I am bound with a letter + from His Majesty to the Army of the West, where I have friends, for my + father’s sake—Sir Deakin Killigrew of Gleys, in Cornwall. ’Tis a + sweet country, they say, tho’ I have never seen it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not seen thy father’s country?” + </p> + <p> + “Why no—for he married a Frenchwoman, Jack, God rest her dear soul!”—he + lifted his hat—“and settled in that country, near Morlaix, in + Brittany, among my mother’s kin; my grandfather refusing to see or speak + with him, for wedding a poor woman without his consent. And in France was + I born and bred, and came to England two years agone; and this last July + the old curmudgeon died. So that my father, who was an only son, is even + now in England returning to his estates: and with him my only sister + Delia. I shall meet them on the way. To think of it!” (and I declare the + tears sprang to his eyes): “Delia will be a woman grown, and ah! to see + dear Cornwall together!” + </p> + <p> + Now I myself was only a child, and had been made an orphan when but nine + years old, by the smallpox that visited our home in Wastdale Village, and + carried off my father, the Vicar, and my dear mother. Yet his simple words + spoke to my heart and woke so tender a yearning for the small stone + cottage, and the bridge, and the grey fells of Yewbarrow above it, that a + mist rose in my eyes too, and I turn’d away to hide it. + </p> + <p> + “’Tis a ticklish business,” said I after a minute, “to carry the King’s + letter. Not one in four of his messengers comes through, they say. But + since it keeps you from the dice——” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true. To-night I make an end.” + </p> + <p> + “To-night!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. To-night I go for my revenge, and ride straight from the inn + door.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I go with you to the ‘Crown,’” I cried, very positive. + </p> + <p> + He dropp’d playing with his curl, and look’d me in the face, his mouth + twitching with a queer smile. + </p> + <p> + “And so thou shalt Jack: but why?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll give no reason,” said I, and knew I was blushing. + </p> + <p> + “Then be at the corner of All Hallows’ Church in Turl Street at seven + to-night. I lodge over Master Simon’s, the glover, and must be about my + affairs. Jack,”—he came near and took my hand—“am sure thou + lovest me.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded, with another cordial smile, and went his way up the grove, his + amber cloak flaunting like a belated butterfly under the leaf less trees; + and so pass’d out of my sight. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER III. — I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL: AND BARELY ESCAPE. + </h2></div> + <p> + It wanted, maybe, a quarter to seven, that evening, when, passing out at + the College Gate on my way to All Hallows’ Church, I saw under the lantern + there a man loitering and talking with the porter. ’Twas Master Anthony’s + lackey; and as I came up, he held out a note for me. + </p> + <p> + Deare Jack + </p> + <p> + Wee goe to the “Crowne” at VI. o’clock, I having mett with Captain Settle, + who is on dewty with the horse tonite, and must to Abendonn by IX. I looke + for you— + </p> + <p> + Your unfayned loving + </p> + <h3> + A. K. + </h3> + <p> + The bearer has left my servise, and his helth conserus me nott. Soe kik + him if he tarrie. + </p> + <p> + This last advice I had no time to carry out with any thoroughness: but + being put in a great dread by this change of hour, pelted off toward the + Corn Market as fast as legs could take me, which was the undoing of a + little round citizen into whom I ran full tilt at the corner of Balliol + College: who, before I could see his face in the darkness, was tipp’d on + his back in the gutter and using the most dismal expressions. So I left + him, considering that my excuses would be unsatisfying to his present + demands, and to his cooler judgment a superfluity. + </p> + <p> + The windows of the “Crown” were cheerfully lit behind their red blinds. A + few straddling grooms and troopers talked and spat in the brightness of + the entrance, and outside in the street was a servant leading up and down + a beautiful sorrel mare, ready saddled, that was mark’d on the near hind + leg with a high white stocking. In the passage, I met the host of the + “Crown,” Master John Davenant, and sure (I thought) in what odd corners + will the Muse pick up her favorites! For this slow, loose-cheek’d vintner + was no less than father to Will Davenant, our Laureate, and had belike + read no other verse in his life but those at the bottom of his own + pint-pots. + </p> + <p> + “Top of the stairs,” says he, indicating my way, “and open the door ahead + of you, if y’are the young gentleman Master Killigrew spoke of.” + </p> + <p> + I had my foot on the bottom step, when from the room above comes the crash + of a table upsetting, with a noise of broken glass, chairs thrust back, + and a racket of outcries. Next moment, the door was burst open, letting + out a flood of light and curses; and down flies a drawer, three steps at a + time, with a red stain of wine trickling down his white face. + </p> + <p> + “Murder!” he gasped out; and sitting down on a stair, fell to mopping his + face, all sick and trembling. + </p> + <p> + I was dashing past him, with the landlord at my heels, when three men came + tumbling out at the door, and downstairs. I squeezed myself against the + wall to let them pass: but Master Davenant was pitch’d to the very foot of + the stairs. And then he picked himself up and ran out into the Corn + Market, the drawer after him, and both shouting “Watch! Watch!” at the top + of their lungs; and so left the three fellows to push by the women already + gathered in the passage, and gain the street at their ease. All this + happen’d while a man could count twenty; and in half a minute I heard the + ring of steel and was standing in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + There was now no light within but what was shed by the fire and two tallow + candles that gutter’d on the mantelshelf. The remaining candlesticks lay + in a pool of wine on the floor, amid broken glasses, bottles, scattered + coins, dice boxes and pewter pots. In the corner to my right cower’d a + potboy, with tankard dangling in his hand, and the contents spilling into + his shoes. His wide terrified eyes were fix’d on the far end of the room, + where Anthony and the brute Settle stood, with a shattered chair between + them. Their swords were cross’d in tierce, and grating together as each + sought occasion for a lunge: which might have been fair enough but for a + dog-fac’d trooper in a frowsy black periwig, who, as I enter’d, was + gathering a handful of coins from under the fallen table, and now ran + across, sword in hand, to the Captain’s aid. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas Anthony that fac’d me, with his heel against the wainscoting, and, + catching my cry of alarm, he call’d out cheerfully over the Captain’s + shoulder, but without lifting his eyes— + </p> + <p> + “Just in time, Jack! Take off the second cur, that’s a sweet boy!” + </p> + <p> + Now I carried no sword; but seizing the tankard from the potboy’s hand, I + hurl’d it at the dog-fac’d trooper. It struck him fair between the + shoulder blades; and with a yell of pain he spun round and came toward me, + his point glittering in a way that turn’d me cold. I gave back a pace, + snatch’d up a chair (that luckily had a wooden seat) and with my back + against the door, waited his charge. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas in this posture that, flinging a glance across the room, I saw the + Captain’s sword describe a small circle of light, and next moment, with a + sharp cry, Anthony caught at the blade, and stagger’d against the wall, + pinn’d through the chest to the wainscoting. + </p> + <p> + “Out with the lights, Dick!” bawl’d Settle, tugging out his point. “Quick, + fool—the window!” + </p> + <p> + Dick, with a back sweep of his hand, sent the candles flying off the + shelf; and, save for the flicker of the hearth, we were in darkness. I + felt, rather than saw, his rush toward me; leap’d aside; and brought down + my chair with a crash on his skull. He went down like a ninepin, but + scrambled up in a trice, and was running for the window. + </p> + <p> + There was a shout below as the Captain thrust the lattice open: another, + and the two dark forms had clambered through the purple square of the + casement, and dropped into the bowling-green below. + </p> + <p> + By this, I had made my way across the room, and found Anthony sunk against + the wall, with his feet outstretched. There was something he held out + toward me, groping for my hand and at the same time whispering in a thick, + choking voice— + </p> + <p> + “Here, Jack, here: pocket it quick!” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a letter, and as my fingers closed on it they met a damp smear, the + meaning of which was but too plain. + </p> + <p> + “Button it—sharp—in thy breast: now feel for my sword.” + </p> + <p> + “First let me tend thy hurt, dear lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay—quickly, my sword! ’Tis pretty, Jack, to hear thee say ‘dear + lad.’ A cheat to die like this—could have laugh’d for years yet. The + dice were cogg’d—hast found it?” + </p> + <p> + I groped beside him, found the hilt, and held it up. + </p> + <p> + “So—’tis thine, Jack: and my mare, Molly, and the letter to take. + Say to Delia—Hark! they are on the stairs. Say to—” + </p> + <p> + With a shout the door was flung wide, and on the threshold stood the + Watch, their lanterns held high and shining in Anthony’s white face, and + on the black stain where his doublet was thrown open. + </p> + <p> + In numbers they were six or eight, led by a small, wrynecked man that held + a long staff, and wore a gilt chain over his furr’d collar. Behind, in the + doorway, were huddled half a dozen women, peering: and Master Davenant at + the back of all, his great face looming over their shoulders like a moon. + </p> + <p> + “Now, speak up, Master Short!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, that I will—that I will: but my head is considering of + affairs,” answered Master Short—he of the wryneck. “One, two, three—” + He look’d round the room, and finding but one capable of resisting (for + the potboy was by this time in a fit), clear’d his throat, and spoke up— + </p> + <p> + “In the king’s name, I arrest you all—so help me God! Now what’s the + matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Murder,” said I, looking up from my work of staunching Anthony’s wound. + </p> + <p> + “Then forbear, and don’t do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Master Short, they’ve been forbearin’ these ten minutes,” a woman’s + voice put in. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, and hear Master Short: he knows the law, an’ all the dubious maxims + of the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, aye: he says forbear i’ the King’s name, which is to say, that other + forbearing is neither law nor grace. Now then, Master Short!” + </p> + <p> + Thus exhorted, the man of law continued— + </p> + <p> + “I charge ye as honest men to disperse!” + </p> + <p> + “Odds truth, Master Short, why you’ve just laid ’em under arrest!” + </p> + <p> + “H’m, true: then let ’em stay so—in the king’s name—and have + done with it.” + </p> + <p> + Master Short, in fact, was growing testy: but now the women push’d by him, + and, by screaming at the sight of blood, put him out of all patience. + Dragging them back by the skirts, he told me he must take the depositions, + and pull’d out pen and ink horn. + </p> + <p> + “Sirs,” said I, laying poor Anthony’s head softly back, “you are too late: + whilst ye were cackling my friend is dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, young man, thou must come along.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along?” + </p> + <p> + “The charge is <i>homocidium</i>, or manslaying, with or without malice + prepense—” + </p> + <p> + “But—” I look’d round. The potboy was insensible, and my eyes fell + on Master Davenant, who slowly shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll say not a word,” said he, stolidly: “lost twenty pound, one time, by + a lawsuit.” + </p> + <p> + “Pack of fools!” I cried, driven beyond endurance. “The guilty ones have + escap’d these ten minutes. Now stop me who dares!” + </p> + <p> + And dashing my left fist on the nose of a watchman who would have seized + me, I clear’d a space with Anthony’s sword, made a run for the casement, + and dropp’d out upon the bowling-green. + </p> + <p> + A pretty shout went up as I pick’d myself off the turf and rush’d for the + back door. ’Twas unbarr’d, and in a moment I found myself tearing down the + passage and out into the Corn Market, with a score or so tumbling + downstairs at my heels, and yelling to stop me. Turning sharp to my right, + I flew up Ship Street, and through the Turl, and doubled back up the High + Street, sword in hand. The people I pass’d were too far taken aback, as I + suppose, to interfere. But a many must have join’d in the chase: for + presently the street behind me was thick with the clatter of footsteps and + cries of “A thief—a thief! Stop him!” + </p> + <p> + At Quater Voies I turn’d again, and sped down toward St. Aldate’s, thence + to the left by Wild Boar Street, and into St. Mary’s Lane. By this, the + shouts had grown fainter, but were still following. Now I knew there was + no possibility to get past the city gates, which were well guarded at + night. My hope reach’d no further than the chance of outwitting the + pursuit for a while longer. In the end I was sure the potboy’s evidence + would clear me, and therefore began to enjoy the fun. Even my certain + expulsion from College on the morrow seem’d of a piece with the rest of + events and (prospectively) a matter for laughter. For the struggle at the + “Crown” had unhinged my wits, as I must suppose and you must believe, if + you would understand my behavior in the next half hour. + </p> + <p> + A bright thought had struck me: and taking a fresh wind, I set off again + round the corner of Oriel College, and down Merton Street toward Master + Timothy Carter’s house, my mother’s cousin. This gentleman—who was + town clerk to the Mayor and Corporation of Oxford—was also in a + sense my guardian, holding in trust about L200 (which was all my + inheritance), and spending the same jealously on my education. He was a + very small, precise lawyer, about sixty years old, shaped like a pear, + with a prodigious self-important manner that came of associating with + great men: and all the knowledge I had of him was pick’d up on the rare + occasions (about twice a year) that I din’d at his table. He had early + married and lost an aged shrew, whose money had been the making of him: + and had more respect for law and authority than any three men in Oxford. + So that I reflected, with a kind of desperate hilarity, on the greeting he + was like to give me. + </p> + <p> + This kinsman of mine had a fine house at the east end of Merton Street as + you turn into Logic Lane: and I was ten yards from the front door, and + running my fastest, when suddenly I tripp’d and fell headlong. + </p> + <p> + Before I could rise, a hand was on my shoulder, and a voice speaking in my + ear— + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, comrade. We are two of a trade, I see.” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a fellow that had been lurking at the corner of the lane, and had + thrust out a leg as I pass’d. He was pricking up his ears now to the cries + of “Thief—thief!” that had already reach’d the head of the street, + and were drawing near. + </p> + <p> + “I am no thief,” said I. “Quick!” He dragged me into the shadow of + the lane. “Hast a crown in thy pocket?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, for a good turn. I’ll fog these gentry for thee. Many thanks, + comrade,” as I pull’d out the last few shillings of my pocket money. “Now + pitch thy sword over the wall here, and set thy foot on my hand. ’Tis a + rich man’s garden, t’other side, that I was meaning to explore myself; but + another night will serve.” + </p> + <p> + “’Tis Master Carter’s,” said I; “and he’s my kinsman.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil!—but never mind, up with thee! Now mark a pretty piece of + play. ’Tis pity thou shouldst be across the wall and unable to see.” + </p> + <p> + He gave a great hoist: catching at the coping of the wall, I pull’d myself + up and sat astride of it. + </p> + <p> + “Good turf below—ta-ta, comrade!” + </p> + <p> + By now, the crowd was almost at the corner. Dropping about eight feet on + to good turf, as the fellow had said, I pick’d myself up and listen’d. + </p> + <p> + “Which way went he?” call’d one, as they came near. + </p> + <p> + “Down the street!” “No: up the lane!’” “Hush!” “Up the lane, I’ll be + sworn.” “Here, hand the lantern!” &c., &c. + </p> + <p> + While they debated, my friend stood close on the other side of the wall: + but now I heard him dash suddenly out, and up the lane for his life. + “There he goes!” “Stop him!” the cries broke out afresh. “Stop him, i’ the + king’s name!” The whole pack went pelting by, shouting, stumbling, + swearing. + </p> + <p> + For two minutes or more the stragglers continued to hurry past by ones and + twos. As soon as their shouts died away, I drew freer breath and look’d + around. + </p> + <p> + I was in a small, turfed garden, well stock’d with evergreen shrubs, at + the back of a tall house that I knew for Master Carter’s. But what puzzled + me was a window in the first floor, very brightly lit, and certain sounds + issuing therefrom that had no correspondence with my kinsman’s reputation. + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “It was a frog leap’d into a pool— + Fol—de—riddle, went souse in the middle! + Says he, This is better than moping in school. + With a—” + </div> + <p> + “—Your Royal Highness, have some pity! What hideous folly! Oh, dear, + dear—” + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “With a fa-la-tweedle-tweedle, + Tiddifol-iddifol-ido!” + </div> + <p> + “—Your Royal Highness, I <i>cannot</i> sing the dreadful stuff! + Think of my grey hairs!” + </p> + <p> + “Tush! Master Carter—nonsense; ’tis choicely well sung. Come, + brother, the chorus!” + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “With a fa-la—” + </div> + <p> + And the chorus was roar’d forth, with shouts of laughter and clinking of + glasses. Then came an interval of mournful appeal, and my kinsman’s voice + was again lifted—— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “He scattered the tadpoles, and set ’em agog, + Hey! nod-noddy-all head and no body! + Oh, mammy! Oh, minky!—” + </div> + <p> + “—O, mercy, mercy! it makes me sweat for shame.” + </p> + <p> + Now meantime I had been searching about the garden, and was lucky enough + to find a tool shed, and inside of this a ladder hanging, which now I + carried across and planted beneath the window. I had a shrewd notion of + what I should find at the top, remembering now to have heard that the + Princes Rupert and Maurice were lodging with Master Carter: but the truth + beat all my fancies. + </p> + <p> + For climbing softly up and looking in, I beheld my poor kinsman perch’d on + his chair a-top of the table, in the midst of glasses, decanters, and + desserts: his wig askew, his face white, save where, between the eyes, a + medlar had hit and broken, and his glance shifting wildly between the two + princes, who in easy postures, loose and tipsy, lounged on either side of + him, and beat with their glasses on the board. + </p> + <p> + “Bravissimo! More, Master Carter—more!” + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “O mammy, O nunky, here’s cousin Jack Frog— + With a fa-la—” + </div> + <p> + I lifted my knuckles and tapp’d on the pane; whereon Prince Maurice starts + up with an oath, and coming to the window, flings it open. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, your Highness,” said I, and pull’d myself past him into the room, + as cool as you please. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas worth while to see their surprise. Prince Maurice ran back to the + table for his sword: his brother (being more thoroughly drunk) dropped a + decanter on the floor, and lay back staring in his chair. While as for my + kinsman, he sat with mouth wide and eyes starting, as tho’ I were a very + ghost. In the which embarrassment I took occasion to say, very politely— + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, nunky!” + </p> + <p> + “Who the devil is this?” gasps Prince Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Why the fact is, your Highnesses,” answered I, stepping up and laying my + sword on the table, while I pour’d out a glass, “Master Timothy Carter + here is my guardian, and has the small sum of L200 in his possession for + my use, of which I happen to-night to stand in immediate need. So you see—” + I finished the sentence by tossing off a glass. “This is rare stuff!” I + said. + </p> + <p> + “Blood and fury!” burst out Prince Rupert, fumbling for his sword, and + then gazing, drunk and helpless. + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred pound! Thou jackanapes—” began Master Carter. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll let you off with fifty to-night,” said I. “Ten thousand—!” + </p> + <p> + “No, fifty. Indeed, nunky,” I went on, “’tis very simple. I was at the + ‘Crown’ tavern—” + </p> + <p> + “At a tavern!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, at a game of dice—” + </p> + <p> + “Dice!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, and a young man was killed—” + </p> + <p> + “Thou shameless puppy! A man murder’d!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, nunky; and the worst is they say ’twas I that kill’d him.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s mad. The boy’s stark raving mad!” exclaim’d my kinsman. “To come + here in this trim!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, truly, nunky, thou art a strange one to talk of appearances. Oh, + dear!” and I burst into a wild fit of laughing, for the wine had warm’d me + up to play the comedy out. “To hear thee sing + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “‘With a fa—la—tweedle—tweedle!’ +</div> + <p> + and—Oh, nunky, that medlar on thy face is so funny!” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven’s name, stop!” broke in the Prince Maurice. “Am I mad, or only + drunk? Rupert, if you love me, say I am no worse than drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord knows,” answer’d his brother. “I for one was never this way before.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, your Highnesses be only drunk,” said I, “and able at that to sign + the order that I shall ask you for.” + </p> + <p> + “An order!” + </p> + <p> + “To pass the city gates to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, stop him somebody,” groan’d Prince Rupert: “my head is whirling.” + </p> + <p> + “With your leave,” I explain’d, pouring out another glassful: “tis the + simplest matter, and one that a child could understand. You see, this + young man was kill’d, and they charg’d me with it; so away I ran, and the + Watch after me; and therefore I wish to pass the city gates. And as I may + have far to travel, and gave my last groat to a thief for hoisting me over + Master Carter’s wall—” + </p> + <p> + “A thief—my wall!” repeated Master Carter. “Oh well is thy poor + mother in her grave!” + </p> + <p> + “—Why, therefore I came for money,” I wound up, sipping the wine, + and nodding to all present. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas at this moment that, catching my eye, the Prince Maurice slapp’d his + leg, and leaning back, broke into peal after peal of laughter. And in a + moment his brother took the jest also; and there we three sat and shook, + and roar’d unquenchably round Master Carter, who, staring blankly from one + to another, sat gaping, as though the last alarm were sounding in his + ears. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! oh! Hit me on the back, Maurice!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! I cannot—’tis killing me—Master Carter, for pity’s + sake, look not so; but pay the lad his money.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Highness——” + </p> + <p> + “Pay it I say; pay it: ’tis fairly won.” + </p> + <p> + “Fifty pounds!” + </p> + <p> + “Every doit,” said I: “I’m sick of schooling.” + </p> + <p> + “Be hang’d if I do!” snapp’d Master Carter. + </p> + <p> + “Then be hang’d, sir, but all the town shall hear to-morrow of the frog + and the pool! No, sir: I am off to see the world—— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “‘Says he: “This is better than moping in school!”’” + </div> + <p> + “Your Highnesses,” pleaded the unhappy man, “if, to please you, I sang + that idiocy, which, for fifty years now, I had forgotten——” + </p> + <p> + “Exc’ll’nt shong,” says Prince Rupert, waking up; “less have’t again!” + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + To be short, ten o’clock was striking from St. Mary’s spire when, with a + prince on either side of me, and thirty guineas in my pocket (which was + all the loose gold he had), I walked forth from Master Carter’s door. To + make up the deficiency, their highnesses had insisted on furnishing me + with a suit made up from the simplest in their joint wardrobes—riding-boots, + breeches, buff-coat, sash, pistols, cloak, and feather’d hat, all of which + fitted me excellently well. By the doors of Christ Church, before we came + to the south gate, Prince Rupert, who had been staggering in his walk, + suddenly pull’d up, and leaned against the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Why—odd’s my life—we’ve forgot a horse for him!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, your Highness,” I answered, “if my luck holds the same, I shall + find one by the road.” (How true this turned out you shall presently + hear.) + </p> + <p> + There was no difficulty at the gate, where the sentry recogniz’d the two + princes and open’d the wicket at once. Long after it had clos’d behind me, + and I stood looking back at Oxford towers, all bath’d in the winter + moonlight, I heard the two voices roaring away up the street: + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “It was a frog leap’d into a pool—” + </div> + <p> + At length they died into silence; and, hugging the king’s letter in my + breast, I stepped briskly forward on my travels. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER IV. — I TAKE THE ROAD. + </h2></div> + <p> + So puffed up was I by the condescension of the two princes, and my head so + busy with big thoughts, that not till I was over the bridges and climbing + the high ground beyond South Hincksey, with a shrewd northeast wind at my + back, could I spare time for a second backward look. By this, the city lay + spread at my feet, very delicate and beautiful in a silver network, with a + black clump or two to southward, where the line of Bagley trees ran below + the hill. I pulled out the letter that Anthony had given me. In the + moonlight the brown smear of his blood was plain to see, running across + the superscription: + </p> + <p> + “<i>To our trusty and well beloved Sir Ralph Hopton, at our Army in + Cornwall—these.</i>” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas no more than I look’d for; yet the sight of it and the king’s red + seal, quicken’d my step as I set off again. And I cared not a straw for + Dr. Kettle’s wrath on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay around + Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape my course for + Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. ’Tis not my purpose to + describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to reserve my pen for + those more moving events that overtook me later. Only in the uncertain + light I must have taken a wrong turn to the left (I think near + Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for, coming about daybreak + to a considerable town, I found it to be, not Faringdon, but Wantage. + There was no help for it, so I set about enquiring for a bed. The town was + full, and already astir with preparations for cattle-fair; and neither at + the “Bear” nor the “Three Nuns” was there a bed to be had. But at length + at the “Boot” tavern—a small house, I found one just vacated by a + couple of drovers, and having cozen’d the chambermaid to allow me a clean + pair of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in five minutes was + sleeping sound. + </p> + <p> + I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of womankind. + </p> + <p> + “He’s waking,” said one. + </p> + <p> + “Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus—and he such a pretty young + man!” + </p> + <p> + This came from the landlady, who stood close, her hand shaking my shoulder + roughly. + </p> + <p> + “What’s amiss?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Why, ’tis three of the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ll get up, as soon as you retire.” + </p> + <p> + “Lud! we’ve been trying to wake thee this hour past; but ’twas sleep—sleep!” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll get up, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thought thee’d ha’ slept through the bed and right through to the floor,” + said the chambermaid by the door, tittering. + </p> + <p> + “Unless you pack and go, I’ll step out amongst you all!” + </p> + <p> + Whereat they fled with mock squeals, calling out that the very thought + made them blush: and left me to dress. + </p> + <p> + Downstairs I found a giant’s breakfast spread for me, and ate the hole, + and felt the better for it: and thereupon paid my scot, resisting the + landlady’s endeavor to charge me double for the bed, and walked out to see + the town. + </p> + <p> + “Take care o’ thysel’,” the chambermaid bawled after me; “nor flourish thy + attainments abroad, lest they put thee in a show!” + </p> + <p> + Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended purchasing + a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over, the cattle-pens + broken up, and the dealers gather’d round the fiddlers, ballad singers, + and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming booths, too, driving a brisk + trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and Costly Colors; and an eating tent, + whence issued a thick reek of cooking and loud rattle of plates. Over the + entrance, I remember, was set a notice: “<i>Dame Alloway from Bartholomew + Fair. Here are the best geese, and she does them as well as ever she did</i>.” + I jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my pockets, for fear of + cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the street, there arose the + noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward it; and in a minute I was + left alone, standing before a juggler who had a sword halfway down his + throat, and had to draw it out again before he could with any sufficiency + curse the defection of his audience; but offered to pull out a tooth for + me if I wanted it. + </p> + <p> + I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn’d the cause of this + tumult. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking pockets: + and they were dragging him off to be duck’d. Now in the heart of Wantage + the little stream that runs through the town is widen’d into a cistern + about ten feet square, and five in depth, over which hung a ducking stool + for scolding wives. And since the townspeople draw their water from this + cistern, ’tis to be supposed they do not fear the infection. A long beam + on a pivot hangs out over the pool, and to the end is a chair fasten’d; + into which, despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped this poor + wretch, whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him. + </p> + <p> + Souse! he was plunged: hauled up choking and dripping: then—just as + he found tongue to shriek—souse! again. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a dismal punishment; and this time they kept him under for a full + half minute. But as the beam was lifted again, I heard a hullaballoo and a + cry— + </p> + <p> + “The bear! the bear!” + </p> + <p> + And turning, I saw a great brown form lumbering down the street behind, + and driving the people before it like chaff. + </p> + <p> + The crowd at the brink of the pool scatter’d to right and left, yelling. + Up flew the beam of the ducking stool, reliev’d of their weight, and down + with a splash went the pickpocket at the far end. As well for my own + skin’s sake as out of pity to see him drowning, I jumped into the water. + In two strokes I reach’d him, gained footing, and with Anthony’s sword cut + the straps away and pull’d him up. And there we stood, up to our necks, + coughing and spluttering; while on the deserted brink the bear sniff’d at + the water and regarded us. + </p> + <p> + No doubt we appear’d contemptible enough: for after a time he turned with + a louder sniff, and went his way lazily up the street again. He had broken + out from the pit wherein, for the best part of the day, they had baited + him; yet seemed to bear little malice. For he saunter’d about the town for + an hour or two, hurting no man, but making a clean sweep of every sweet + stall in his way; and was taken at last very easily, with his head in a + treacle cask, by the bear ward and a few dogs. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the pickpocket and I had scrambled out by the further bank and + wrung our clothes. He seemed to resent his treatment no more than did the + bear. + </p> + <p> + “Ben cove—’tis a good world. My thanks!” + </p> + <p> + And with this scant gratitude he was gone, leaving me to make my way back + to the sign of “The Boot,” where the chambermaid led me upstairs, and took + away my clothes to dry by the fire. I determin’d to buy a horse on the + morrow, and with my guineas and the King’s letter under the pillow, + dropp’d off to slumber again. + </p> + <p> + My powers of sleep must have been nois’d abroad by the hostess: for next + morning at the breakfast ordinary, the dealers and drovers laid down knife + and fork to stare as I enter’d. After a while one or two lounged out and + brought in others to look: so that soon I was in a ring of stupid faces, + all gazing like so many cows. + </p> + <p> + For a while I affected to eat undisturbed: but lost patience at last and + addressed a red-headed gazer—— + </p> + <p> + “If you take me for a show, you ought to pay.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s fair,” said the fellow, and laid a groat on the board. This came + near to putting me in a passion, but his face was serious. “’Tis a real + pleasure,” he added heartily, “to look on one so gifted.” + </p> + <p> + “If any of you,” I said, “could sell me a horse——” + </p> + <p> + At once there was a clamor, all bidding in one breath for my custom. So + finishing my breakfast, I walked out with them to the tavern yard, where I + had my pick among the sorriest-looking dozen of nags in England, and + finally bought from the red-haired man, for five pounds, bridle, saddle, + and a flea-bitten grey that seem’d more honestly raw-boned than the rest. + And the owner wept tears at the parting with his beast, and thereby added + a pang to the fraud he had already put upon me. And I rode from the tavern + door suspecting laughter in the eyes of every passer-by. + </p> + <p> + The day (’twas drawing near noon as I started) was cold and clear, with a + coating of rime over the fields: and my horse’s feet rang cheerfully on + the frozen road. His pace was of the soberest: but, as I was no skilful + rider, this suited me rather than not. Only it was galling to be told so, + as happened before I had gone three miles. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas my friend the pickpocket: and he sat before a fire of dry sticks a + little way back from the road. His scanty hair, stiff as a badger’s, now + stood upright around his batter’d cap, and he look’d at me over the + bushes, with his hook’d nose thrust forward like a bird’s beak. + </p> + <p> + “Bien lightmans, comrade—good day! ’Tis a good world; so stop and + dine.” + </p> + <p> + I pull’d up my grey. + </p> + <p> + “Glad you find it so,” I answered; “you had a nigh chance to compare it + with the next, last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Shan’t do so well i’ the next, I fear,” he said with a twinkle: “but I + owe thee something, and here’s a hedgehog that in five minutes’ll be baked + to a turn. ’Tis a good world, and the better that no man can count on it. + Last night my dripping duds helped me to a cant tale, and got me a silver + penny from a man of religion. Good’s in the worst; and life’s like hunting + the squirrel—a man gets much good exercise thereat, but seldom what + he hunts for.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s as good morality as Aristotle’s,” said I. “’Tis better for + <i>me</i>, because ’tis mine.” While I tether’d my horse he blew at the + embers, wherein lay a good-sized ball of clay, baking. After a while he + look’d up with red cheeks. “They were so fast set on drowning me,” he + continued with a wink, “they couldn’t spare time to look i’ my pocket—the + ruffin cly them!” + </p> + <p> + He pull’d the clay ball out of the fire, crack’d it, and lo! inside was a + hedgehog cook’d, the spikes sticking in the clay, and coming away with it. + So he divided the flesh with his knife, and upon a slice of bread from his + wallet it made very delicate eating: tho’ I doubt if I enjoyed it as much + as did my comrade, who swore over and over that the world was good, and as + the wintry sun broke out, and the hot ashes warm’d his knees, began to + chatter at a great pace. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir, but for the pretty uncertainty of things I’d as lief die here + as I sit——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off at the sound of wheels, and a coach with two postillions spun + past us on the road. + </p> + <p> + I had just time to catch a glimpse of a figure huddled in the corner, and + a sweet pretty girl with chestnut curls seated beside it, behind the + glass. After the coach came a heavy broad-shoulder’d servant riding on a + stout grey; who flung us a sharp glance as he went by, and at twenty + yards’ distance turn’d again to look. + </p> + <p> + “That’s luck,” observed the pickpocket, as the travelers disappear’d down + the highway: “To-morrow, with a slice of it, I might be riding in such a + coach as that, and have the hydropsy, to boot. Good lack! when I was ta’en + prisoner by the Turks a-sailing i’ the <i>Mary</i> of London, and sold for + a slave at Algiers, I escap’d, after two months, with Eli Sprat, a + Gravesend man, in a small open boat. Well, we sail’d three days and + nights, and all the time there was a small sea bird following, flying + round and round us, and calling two notes that sounded for all the world + like ‘Wind’ard! Wind’ard!’ So at last says Eli, ‘’Tis heaven’s voice + bidding us ply to wind’ard.’ And so we did, and on the fourth day made + Marseilles; and who should be first to meet Eli on the quay but a + Frenchwoman he had married five years before, and left. And the jade had + him clapp’d in the pillory, alongside of a cheating fishmonger with a + collar of stinking smelts, that turn’d poor Eli’s stomach completely. Now + there’s somewhat to set against the story of Whittington next time ’tis + told you.” + </p> + <p> + I was now for bidding the old rascal good-bye. But he offer’d to go with + me as far as Hungerford, where we should turn into the Bath road. At first + I was shy of accepting, by reason of his coat, wherein patches of blue, + orange-tawny and flame-color quite overlaid the parent black: but closed + with him upon his promise to teach me the horsemanship that I so sadly + lacked. And by time we enter’d Hungerford town I was advanced so far, and + bestrode my old grey so easily, that in gratitude I offer’d him supper and + bed at an inn, if he would but buy a new coat: to which he agreed, saying + that the world was good. + </p> + <p> + By this, the day was clouded over and the rain coming down apace. So that + as soon as my comrade was decently array’d at the first slopshop we came + to, ’twas high time to seek an inn. We found quarters at “The Horn,” and + sought the travelers’ room, and a fire to dry ourselves. + </p> + <p> + In this room, at the window, were two men who look’d lazily up at our + entrance. They were playing at a game, which was no other than to race two + snails up a pane of glass and wager which should prove the faster. + </p> + <p> + “A wet day!” said my comrade, cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + The pair regarded him. “I’ll lay you a crown it clears within the hour!” + said one. + </p> + <p> + “And I another,” put in the other; and with that they went back to their + sport. + </p> + <p> + Drawing near, I myself was soon as eager as they in watching the snails, + when my companion drew my notice to a piece of writing on the window over + which they were crawling. ’Twas a set of verses scribbled there, that must + have been scratch’d with a diamond: and to my surprise—for I had not + guess’d him a scholar—he read them out for my benefit. Thus the + writing ran, for I copied it later: + </p> + <p> + “<i>Master Ephraim Tucker</i>, his dying councell to wayfardingers; to + seek <i>The Splendid Spur</i>. + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Not on the necks of prince or hound, + Nor on a woman’s finger twin’d, + May gold from the deriding ground + Keep sacred that we sacred bind + Only the heel + Of splendid steel + Shall stand secure on sliding fate, + When golden navies weep their freight. + + “The scarlet hat, the laurell’d stave + Are measures, not the springs, of worth; + In a wife’s lap, as in a grave, + Man’s airy notions mix with earth. + Seek other spur + Bravely to stir + The dust in this loud world, and tread + Alp-high among the whisp’ring dead. + + “<i>Trust in thyself</i>,—then spur amain: + So shall Charybdis wear a grace, + Grim Aetna laugh, the Lybian plain + Take roses to her shrivell’d face. + This orb—this round + Of sight and sound— + Count it the lists that God hath built + For haughty hearts to ride a-tilt. +</div> + <p> + “FINIS-Master Tucker’s Farewell.” + </p> + <p> + “And a very pretty moral on four gentlemen that pass their afternoon a + setting snails to race!” + </p> + <p> + At these words, spoken in a delicate foreign voice we all started round: + and saw a young lady standing behind us. + </p> + <p> + Now that she was the one who had passed us in the coach I saw at once. But + describe her—to be plain—I cannot, having tried a many times. + So let me say only that she was the prettiest creature on God’s earth + (which, I hope, will satisfy her); that she had chestnut curls and a mouth + made for laughing; that she wore a kirtle and bodice of grey silk taffety, + with a gold pomander-box hung on a chain about her neck; and held out a + drinking glass toward us with a Frenchified grace. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, my father is sick, and will taste no water but what is freshly + drawn. I ask you not to brave Charybdis or Aetna, but to step out into the + rainy yard and draw me a glassful from the pump there: for our servant is + abroad in the town.” + </p> + <p> + To my deep disgust, before I could find a word, that villainous old + pickpocket had caught the glass from her hand and reached the door. But I + ran after; and out into the yard we stepp’d together, where I pump’d while + he held the glass to the spout, flinging away the contents time after + time, till the bubbles on the brim, and the film on the outside, were to + his liking. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas he, too, that gain’d the thanks on our return. + </p> + <p> + “Mistress,” said he with a bow, “my young friend is raw, but has a good + will. Confess, now, for his edification—for he is bound on a long + journey westward, where, they tell me, the maidens grow comeliest—that + looks avail naught with womankind beside a dashing manner.” + </p> + <p> + The young gentlewoman laughed, shaking her curls. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll give him in that case three better counsels yet: first (for by his + habit I see he is on the King’s side), let him take a circuit from this + place to the south, for the road between Marlboro’ and Bristol is, they + tell me, all held by the rebels; next, let him avoid all women, even tho’ + they ask but an innocent cup of water; and lastly, let him shun thee, + unless thy face lie more than thy tongue. Shall I say more?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no—perhaps better not,” replied the old rogue hastily, but + laughing all the same. “That’s a clever lass,” he added, as the door shut + behind her. + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, I was fain, next morning, to agree to this. For, awaking, I + found my friend (who had shar’d a room with me) already up and gone, and + discovered the reason in a sheet of writing pinn’d to my clothes—— + </p> + <p> + “Young Sir,—I convict myself of ingratitude: but habit is hard to + break. So I have made off with the half of thy guineas and thy horse. The + residue, and the letter thou bearest, I leave. ’Tis a good world, and + experience should be bought early. This golden lesson I leave in return + for the guineas. Believe me, ’tis of more worth. Read over those verses on + the windowpane before starting, digest them, and trust me, thy obliged, + </p> + <p> + “Peter, The Jackman. + </p> + <p> + “Raise not thy hand so often to thy breast: ’tis a sure index of hidden + valuables.” + </p> + <p> + Be sure I was wroth enough: nor did the calm interest of the two snail + owners appease me, when at breakfast I told them a part of the story. But + I thought I read sympathy in the low price at which one of them offer’d me + his horse. ’Twas a tall black brute, very strong in the loins, and I + bought him at once out of my shrunken stock of guineas. At ten o’clock, I + set out, not along the Bath road, but bearing to the south, as the young + gentlewoman had counselled. I began to hold a high opinion of her advice. + </p> + <p> + By twelve o’clock I was back at the inn door, clamoring to see the man + that sold me the horse, which had gone dead lame after the second mile. + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart!” cried the landlord; “they are gone, the both, this hour and + a half. But they are coming again within the fortnight; and I’m expressly + to report if you return’d, as they had a wager about it.” + </p> + <p> + I turn’d away, pondering. Two days on the road had put me sadly out of + conceit with myself. For mile upon mile I trudged, dragging the horse + after me by the bridle, till my arms felt as if coming from their sockets. + I would have turn’d the brute loose, and thought myself well quit of him, + had it not been for the saddle and bridle he carried. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + ’Twas about five in the evening, and I still laboring along, when, over + the low hedge to my right, a man on a sorrel mare leap’d easily as a + swallow, and alighted some ten paces or less in front of me; where he + dismounted and stood barring my path. The muzzle of his pistol was in my + face before I could lay hand to my own. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening!” said I. “You have money about you, doubtless,” + growled the man curtly, and in a voice that made me start. For by his + voice and figure in the dusk I knew him for Captain Settle: and in the + sorrel with the high white stocking I recognized the mare, Molly, that + poor Anthony Killigrew had given me almost with his last breath. + </p> + <p> + The bully did not know me, having but seen me for an instant at “The + Crown,” and then in very different attire. + </p> + <p> + “I have but a few poor coins,” I answer’d. + </p> + <p> + “Then hand ’em over.” + </p> + <p> + “Be shot if I do!” said I in a passion; and pulling out a handful from my + pocket, I dash’d them down in the road. + </p> + <p> + For a moment the Captain took his pistol from my face, and stooped to + clutch at the golden coins as they trickled and ran to right and left. The + next, I had struck out with my right fist, and down he went staggering. + His pistol dropped out of his hand and exploded between my feet. I rush’d + to Molly, caught her bridle, and leap’d on her back. ’Twas a near thing, + for the Captain was rushing toward us. But at the call of my voice the + mare gave a bound and turn’d: and down the road I was borne, light as a + feather. + </p> + <p> + A bullet whizz’d past my ear: I heard the Captain’s curse mingle with the + report: and then was out of range, and galloping through the dusk. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER V. — MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE CUPS.” + </h2></div> + <p> + Secure of pursuit, and full of delight in the mare’s easy motion, I must + have travelled a good six miles before the moon rose. In the frosty sky + her rays sparkled cheerfully, and by them I saw on the holsters the silver + demi-bear that I knew to be the crest of the Killigrews, having the fellow + to it engraved on my sword-hilt. So now I was certain ’twas Molly that I + bestrode: and took occasion of the light to explore the holsters and + saddle flap. + </p> + <p> + Poor Anthony’s pistols were gone—filched, no doubt, by the Captain: + but you may guess my satisfaction, when on thrusting my hand deeper, I + touched a heap of coins, and found them to be gold. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas certainly a rare bargain I had driven with Captain Settle. For the + five or six gold pieces I scatter’d on the road, I had won close on thirty + guineas, as I counted in the moonlight; not to speak of this incomparable + Molly. And I began to whistle gleefully, and taste the joke over again and + laugh to myself, as we cantered along with the north wind at our backs. + </p> + <p> + All the same, I had no relish for riding thus till morning. For the night + was chill enough to search my very bones after the heat of the late + gallop: and, moreover, I knew nothing of the road, which at this hour was + quite deserted. So that, coming at length to a tall hill with a black + ridge of pine wood standing up against the moon like a fish’s fin, I was + glad enough to note below it, and at some distance from the trees, a + window brightly lit; and pushed forward in hope of entertainment. + </p> + <p> + The building was an inn, though a sorry one. Nor, save for the lighted + window, did it wear any grace of hospitality, but thrust out a bare + shoulder upon the road, and a sign that creaked overhead and look’d for + all the world like a gallows. Round this shoulder of the house, and into + the main yard (that turn’d churlishly toward the hillside), the wind + howled like a beast in pain. I climb’d off Molly, and pressing my hat down + on my head, struck a loud rat-tat on the door. + </p> + <p> + Curiously, it opened at once; and I saw a couple of men in the lighted + passage. + </p> + <p> + “Heard the mare’s heels on the road, Cap—. Hillo! What in the + fiend’s name is this?” + </p> + <p> + Said I: “If you are he that keeps this house, I want two things of you—first, + a civil tongue, and next a bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye’ll get neither, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sign says that you keep an inn.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—the ‘Three Cups’: but we’re full.” + </p> + <p> + “Your manner of speech proves that to be a lie.” + </p> + <p> + I liked the fellow’s voice so little that ’tis odds I would have + re-mounted Molly and ridden away; but at this instant there floated down + the stairs and out through the drink-smelling passage a sound that made me + jump. ’Twas a girl’s voice singing—— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Hey nonni—nonni—no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is’t not fine to laugh and sing + When the bells of death do ring——” + </div> + <p> + There was no doubt upon it. The voice belonged to the young gentlewoman I + had met at Hungerford. I turned sharply toward the landlord, and was met + by another surprise. The second man, that till now had stood well back in + the shadow, was peering forward, and devouring Molly with his gaze. ’Twas + hard to read his features, but then and there I would have wagered my life + he was no other than Luke Settle’s comrade, Black Dick. + </p> + <p> + My mind was made up. “I’ll not ride a step further, to-night,” said I. + “Then bide there and freeze,” answer’d the landlord. + </p> + <p> + He was for slamming the door in my face, when the other caught him by the + arm and, pulling him a little back, whisper’d a word or two. I guess’d + what this meant, but resolved not to draw back; and presently the + landlord’s voice began again, betwixt surly and polite—— + </p> + <p> + “Have ye too high a stomach to lie on straw?” + </p> + <p> + “Oho!” thought I to myself, “then I am to be kept for the mare’s sake, but + not admitted to the house:” and said aloud that I could put up with a + straw bed. + </p> + <p> + “Because there’s the stable loft at your service. As ye hear” (and in fact + the singing still went on, only now I heard a man’s voice joining in the + catch) “our house is full of company. But straw is clean bedding, and the + mare I’ll help to put in stall.” + </p> + <p> + “Agreed,” I said, “on one condition—that you send out a maid to me + with a cup of mulled sack: for this cold eats me alive.” + </p> + <p> + To this he consented: and stepping back into a side room with the other + fellow, returned in a minute alone, and carrying a lantern which, in spite + of the moon, was needed to guide a stranger across that ruinous yard. The + flare, as we pick’d our way along, fell for a moment on an open cart shed + and, within, on the gilt panels of a coach that I recogniz’d. In the + stable, that stood at the far end of the court, I was surprised to find + half a dozen horses standing, ready saddled, and munching their fill of + oats. They were ungroom’d, and one or two in a lather of sweat that on + such a night was hard to account for. But I asked no questions, and my + companion vouchsafed no talk, though twice I caught him regarding me + curiously as I unbridled the mare in the only vacant stall. Not a word + pass’d as he took the lantern off the peg again, and led the way up a + ramshackle ladder to the loft above. He was a fat, lumbering fellow, and + made the old timbers creak. At the top he set down the light, and pointed + to a heap of straw in the corner. + </p> + <p> + “Yon’s your bed,” he growled; and before I could answer, was picking his + way down the ladder again. + </p> + <p> + I look’d about, and shiver’d. The eaves of my bedchamber were scarce on + speaking terms with the walls, and through a score of crannies at least + the wind poured and whistled, so that after shifting my truss of straw a + dozen times I found myself still the centre of a whirl of draught. The + candle-flame, too, was puffed this way and that inside the horn sheath. I + was losing patience when I heard footsteps below; the ladder creak’d, and + the red hair and broad shoulders of a chambermaid rose into view. She + carried a steaming mug in her hand, and mutter’d all the while in no very + choice talk. + </p> + <p> + The wench had a kind face, tho’; and a pair of eyes that did her more + credit than her tongue. + </p> + <p> + “And what’s to be my reward for this, I want to know?” she panted out, + resting her left palm on her hip. + </p> + <p> + “Why, a groat or two,” said I, “when it comes to the reckoning.” + </p> + <p> + “Lud!” she cried, “what a dull young man!” + </p> + <p> + “Dull?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—to make me ask for a kiss in so many words:” and with the back + of her left hand she wiped her mouth for it frankly, while she held out + the mug in her right. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” I said, “I beg your pardon, but my wits are frozen up, I think. + There’s two, for interest: and another if you tell me whom your master + entertains to-night, that I must be content with this crib.” + </p> + <p> + She took the kisses with composure and said— + </p> + <p> + “Well—to begin, there’s the gentlefolk that came this afternoon with + their own carriage and heathenish French servant: a cranky old grandee and + a daughter with more airs than a peacock: Sir Something-or-other Killigew—Lord + bless the boy!” + </p> + <p> + For I had dropp’d the mug and spilt the hot sack all about the straw, + where it trickled away with a fragrance reproachfully delicious. + </p> + <p> + “Now I beg your pardon a hundred times: but the chill is in my bones worse + than the ague;” and huddling my shoulders up, I counterfeited a shivering + fit with a truthfulness that surpris’d myself. + </p> + <p> + “Poor lad!” + </p> + <p> + “—And ’tis first hot and then cold all down my spine.” + </p> + <p> + “There, now!” + </p> + <p> + “-And goose flesh and flushes all over my body.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart-and to pass the night in this grave of a place!” + </p> + <p> + “—And by morning I shall be in a high fever: and oh! I feel I shall + die of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t—don’t!” The honest girl’s eyes were full of tears. “I wonder, + now—” she began: and I waited, eager for her next words. “Sure, + master’s at cards in the parlor, and ’ll be drunk by midnight. Shalt pass + the night by the kitchen fire, if only thou make no noise.” + </p> + <p> + “But your mistress—what will she say?” + </p> + <p> + “Is in heaven these two years: and out of master’s speaking distance + forever. So blow out the light and follow me gently.” + </p> + <p> + Still feigning to shiver, I follow’d her down the ladder, and through the + stable into the open. The wind by this time had brought up some heavy + clouds, and mass’d them about the moon: but ’twas freezing hard, + nevertheless. The girl took me by the hand to guide me: for, save from the + one bright window in the upper floor, there was no light at all in the + yard. Clearly, she was in dread of her master’s anger, for we stole across + like ghosts, and once or twice she whisper’d a warning when my toe kick’d + against a loose cobble. But just as I seem’d to be walking into a stone + wall, she put out her hand, I heard the click of a latch, and stood in a + dark, narrow passage. + </p> + <p> + The passage led to a second door that open’d on a wide, stone-pav’d + kitchen, lit by a cheerful fire, whereon a kettle hissed and bubbled as + the vapor lifted the cover. Close by the chimney corner was a sort of + trap, or buttery hatch, for pushing the hot dishes conveniently into the + parlor on the other side of the wall. Besides this, for furniture, the + room held a broad deal table, an oak dresser, a linen press, a rack with + hams and strings of onions depending from it, a settle and a chair or two, + with (for decoration) a dozen or so of ballad sheets stuck among the dish + covers along the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Sit,” whisper’d the girl, “and make no noise, while I brew a rack-punch + for the men-folk in the parlor.” She jerked her thumb toward the buttery + hatch, where I had already caught the mur-mer of voices. + </p> + <p> + I took up a chair softly, and set it down between the hatch and the + fireplace, so that while warming my knees I could catch any word spoken + more than ordinary loud on the other side of the wall. The chambermaid + stirr’d the fire briskly, and moved about singing as she fetch’d down + bottles and glasses from the dresser—— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Lament ye maids an’ darters + For constant Sarah Ann, + Who hang’d hersel’ in her garters + All for the love o’ man, + All for the—” + </div> + <p> + She was pausing, bottle in hand, to take the high note: but hush’d + suddenly at the sound of the voices singing in the room upstairs— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Vivre en tout cas + C’est le grand soulas + Des honnetes gens!” + </div> + <p> + “That’s the foreigners,” said the chambermaid, and went on with her ditty—— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “All for the love of a souljer + Who christening name was Jan.” + </div> + <p> + A volley of oaths sounded through the buttery hatch. + </p> + <p> + “—And that’s the true-born Englishmen, as you may tell by their + speech. ’Tis pretty company the master keeps, these days.” + </p> + <p> + She was continuing her song, when I held up a finger for silence. In fact, + through the hatch my ear had caught a sentence that set me listening for + more with a still heart. + </p> + <p> + “D—n the Captain,” the landlord’s gruff voice was saying; “I warn’d + ’n agen this fancy business when sober, cool-handed work was toward.” + </p> + <p> + “Settle’s way from his cradle,” growl’d another; “and times enough I’ve + told ’n: ‘Cap’n,’ says I, ‘there’s no sense o’ proportions about ye.’ A + master mind, sirs, but ’a ’ll be hang’d for a hen-roost, so sure as my + name’s Bill Widdicomb.” + </p> + <p> + “Ugly words-what a creeping influence has that same mention o’ hanging!” + piped a thinner voice. + </p> + <p> + “Hold thy complaints, Old Mortification,” put in a speaker that I + recogniz’d for Black Dick; “sure the pretty maid upstairs is tender game. + Hark how they sing!” + </p> + <p> + And indeed the threatened folk upstairs were singing their catch very + choicely, with a girl’s clear voice to lead them— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Comment dit papa + —Margoton, ma mie?” + </div> + <p> + “Heathen language, to be sure,” said the thin voice again, as the chorus + ceased: “thinks I to mysel’ ‘they be but Papisters,’ an’ my doubting mind + is mightily reconcil’d to manslaughter.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like beginning ’ithout the Cap’n,” observed Black Dick: “though I + doubt something has miscarried. Else, how did that young spark ride in + upon the mare?” + </p> + <p> + “An’ that’s what thy question should ha’ been, Dick, with a pistol to his + skull.” + </p> + <p> + “He’ll keep till the morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll give Settle half-an-hour more,” said the landlord: “Mary!” he + push’d open the hatch, so that I had barely time to duck my head out of + view, “fetch in the punch, girl. How did’st leave the young man i’ the + loft?’ + </p> + <p> + “Asleep, or nearly,” answer’d Mary— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Who hang’d hersel’ in her gar-ters, + All for the love o’ man—” + </div> + <p> + “—Anon, anon, master: wait only till I get the kettle on the boil.” + </p> + <p> + The hatch was slipp’d to again. I stood up and made a step toward the + girl. + </p> + <p> + “How many are they?” I ask’d, jerking a finger in the direction of the + parlor. + </p> + <p> + “A dozen all but one.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the foreign guests’ room?” + </p> + <p> + “Left hand, on the first landing.” + </p> + <p> + “The staircase?” + </p> + <p> + “Just outside the door.” + </p> + <p> + “Then sing—go on singing for your life.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Sing!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart, they’ll murder thee! Oh! for pity’s sake, let go my wrist— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “‘Lament, ye maids an’ darters—’” + </div> + <p> + I stole to the door and peep’d out. A lantern hung in the passage, and + showed the staircase directly in front of me. I stay’d for a moment to + pull off my boots, and, holding them in my left hand, crept up the stairs. + In the kitchen, the girl was singing and clattering the glasses together. + Behind the door, at the head of the stairs, I heard voices talking. I + slipp’d on my boots again and tapp’d on the panel. + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + Let me try to describe that on which my eyes rested as I push’d the door + wide. ’Twas a long room, wainscoted half up the wall in some dark wood, + and in daytime lit by one window only, which now was hung with red + curtains. By the fireplace, where a brisk wood fire was crackling, lean’d + the young gentlewoman I had met at Hungerford, who, as she now turn’d her + eyes upon me, ceas’d fingering the guitar or mandoline that she held + against her waist, and raised her pretty head not without curiosity. + </p> + <p> + But ’twas on the table in the centre of the chamber that my gaze settled; + and on two men beside it, of whom I must speak more particularly. + </p> + <p> + The elder, who sat in a high-back’d chair, was a little, frail, deform’d + gentleman of about fifty, dress’d very richly in dark velvet and furs, and + wore on his head a velvet skullcap, round which his white hair stuck up + like a ferret’s. But the oddest thing about him was a complexion that any + maid of sixteen would give her ears for—of a pink and white so + transparent that it seem’d a soft light must be glowing beneath his skin. + On either cheek bone this delicate coloring centred in a deeper flush. + This is as much as I need say about his appearance, except that his eyes + were very bright and sharp, and his chin stuck out like a vicious mule’s. + </p> + <p> + The table before him was cover’d with bottles and flasks, in the middle of + which stood a silver lamp burning, and over it a silver saucepan that sent + up a rare fragrance as the liquid within it simmer’d and bubbled. So eager + was the old gentleman in watching the progress of his mixture, that he + merely glanc’d up at my entrance, and then, holding up a hand for silence, + turn’d his eyes on the saucepan again. + </p> + <p> + The second man was the broad-shouldered lackey I had seen riding behind + the coach: and now stood over the saucepan with a twisted flask in his + hand, from which he pour’d a red syrup very gingerly, drop by drop, with + the tail of his eye turn’d on his master’s face, that he might know when + to cease. + </p> + <p> + Now it may be that my entrance upset this experiment in strong drinks. At + any rate, I had scarce come to a stand about three paces inside the door, + when the little old gentleman bounces up in a fury, kicks over his chair, + hurls the nearest bottles to right and left, and sends the silver saucepan + spinning across the table to my very feet, where it scalded me clean + through the boot, and made me hop for pain. + </p> + <p> + “Spoil’d—spoil’d!” he scream’d: “drench’d in filthy liquor, when it + should have breath’d but a taste!” + </p> + <p> + And, to my amazement, he sprang on the strapping servant like a wild-cat, + and began to beat, cuff, and belabor him with all the strength of his puny + limbs. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas like a scene out of Bedlam. Yet all the while the girl lean’d + quietly against the mantelshelf, and softly touched the strings of her + instrument; while the servant took the rain of blows and slaps as though + ’twere a summer shower, grinning all over his face, and making no + resistance at all. + </p> + <p> + Then, as I stood dumb with perplexity, the old gentleman let go his hold + of the fellow’s hair, and, dropping on the floor, began to roll about in a + fit of coughing, the like of which no man can imagine. ’Twas hideous. He + bark’d, and writhed, and bark’d again, till the disorder seem’d to search + and rack every innermost inch of his small frame. And in the intervals of + coughing his exclamations were terrible to listen to. + </p> + <p> + “He’s dying!” I cried; and ran forward to help. + </p> + <p> + The servant pick’d up the chair, and together we set him in it. By degrees + the violence of the cough abated, and he lay back, livid in the face, with + his eyes closed, and his hands clutching the knobs of the chair. I turn’d + to the girl. She had neither spoken nor stirr’d, but now came forward, and + calmly ask’d my business. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said I, “that your name is Killigrew?” + </p> + <p> + “I am Delia Killigrew, and this is my father, Sir Deakin.” + </p> + <p> + “Now on his way to visit his estates in Cornwall?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Then I have to warn you that your lives are in danger.” And, gently as + possible, I told her what I had seen and heard downstairs. In the middle + of my tale, the servant stepp’d to the door, and return’d quietly. There + was no lock on the inside. After a minute he went across, and drew the red + curtains. The window had a grating within, of iron bars as thick as a + man’s thumb, strongly clamp’d in the stonework, and not four inches apart. + Clearly, he was a man of few words; for, returning, he merely pull’d out + his sword, and waited for the end of my tale. + </p> + <p> + The girl, also, did not interrupt me, but listen’d in silence. As I + ceas’d, she said—— + </p> + <p> + “Is this all you know?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answer’d I, “it is not. But the rest I promise to tell you if we + escape from this place alive. Will this content you?” + </p> + <p> + She turn’d to the servant, who nodded. Whereupon she held out her hand + very cordially. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, listen: we are travelers bound for Cornwall, as you know, and have + some small possessions, that will poorly reward the greed of these violent + men. Nevertheless, we should be hurrying on our journey did we not await + my brother Anthony, who was to have ridden from Oxford to join us here, + but has been delayed, doubtless on the King’s business——” + </p> + <p> + She broke off, as I started: for below I heard the main door open, and + Captain Settle’s voice in the passage. The arch villain had return’d. + </p> + <p> + “Mistress Delia,” I said hurriedly, “the twelfth man has enter’d the + house, and unless we consider our plans at once, all’s up with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Tush!” said the old gentleman in the chair, who (it seems) had heard all, + and now sat up brisk as ever. “I, for my part shall mix another glass, and + leave it all to Jacques. Come, sit by me, sir, and you shall see some + pretty play. Why, Jacques is the neatest rogue with a small sword in all + France!” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” I put in, “they are a round dozen in all, and your life at present + is not worth a penny’s purchase.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a lie! ’Tis worth this bowl before me, that, with or without you, + I mean to empty. What a fool thing is youth! Sir, you must be a dying man + like myself to taste life properly.” And, as I am a truthful man, he + struck up quavering merrily— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Hey, nonni—nonni—no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is’t not fine to laugh and sing + When the bells of death do ring? + Is’t not fine to drown in wine, + And turn upon the toe, + And sing, hey—nonni—no? + Hey, nonni—nonni—” + </div> + <p> + “—Come and sit, sir, nor spoil sport. You are too raw, I’ll wager, + to be of any help; and boggling I detest.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir,” I broke in, now thoroughly anger’d, “I can use the small + sword as well as another.” + </p> + <p> + “Tush! Try him, Jacques.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques, still wearing a stolid face, brought his weapon to the guard. + Stung to the quick, I wheel’d round, and made a lunge or two, that he put + aside as easily as though I were a babe. And then—I know not how it + happened, but my sword slipp’d like ice out of my grasp, and went flying + across the room. Jacques, sedately as on a matter of business, stepp’d to + pick it up, while the old gentleman chuckled. + </p> + <p> + I was hot and asham’d, and a score of bitter words sprang to my + tongue-tip, when the Frenchman, as he rose from stooping, caught my eye, + and beckon’d me across to him. + </p> + <p> + He was white as death, and pointed to the hilt of my sword and the + demi-bear engrav’d thereon. + </p> + <p> + “He is dead,” I whisper’d: “hush!—turn your face aside—killed + by those same dogs that are now below.” + </p> + <p> + I heard a sob in the true fellow’s throat. But on the instant it was + drown’d by the sound of a door opening and the tramp of feet on the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER VI. — THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD. + </h2></div> + <p> + By the sound of their steps I guess’d one or two of these dozen rascals to + be pretty far gone in drink, and afterward found this to be the case. I + look’d round. Sir Deakin had pick’d up the lamp and was mixing his bowl of + punch, humming to himself without the least concern—— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Vivre en tout cas + C’est le grand soulas”— +</div> + <p> + with a glance at his daughter’s face, that was white to the lips, but + firmly set. + </p> + <p> + “Hand me the nutmeg yonder,” he said, and then, “why, daughter, what’s + this?—a trembling hand?” + </p> + <p> + And all the while the footsteps were coming up. + </p> + <p> + There was a loud knock on the door. + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” call’d Sir Deakin. + </p> + <p> + At this, Jacques, who stood ready for battle by the entrance, wheeled + round, shot a look at his master, and dropping his point, made a sign to + me to do the same. The door was thrust rudely open, and Captain Settle, + his hat cock’d over one eye, and sham drunkenness in his gait, lurched + into the room, with the whole villainous crew behind him, huddled on the + threshold. Jacques and I stepp’d quietly back, so as to cover the girl. + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: The door was thrust rudely open.—Page 88.] + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind waiting a moment?” inquir’d Sir Deakin, without looking + up, but rubbing the nutmeg calmly up and down the grater: “a fraction too + much, and the whole punch will be spoil’d.” + </p> + <p> + It took the Captain aback, and he came to a stand, eyeing us, who look’d + back at him without saying a word. And this discomposed him still further. + </p> + <p> + There was a minute during which the two parties could hear each other’s + breathing. Sir Deakin set down the nutmeg, wiped his thin white fingers on + a napkin, and address’d the Captain sweetly— + </p> + <p> + “Before asking your business, sir, I would beg you and your company to + taste this liquor, which, in the court of France”—the old gentleman + took a sip from the mixing ladle—“has had the extreme honor to be + pronounced divine.” He smack’d his lips, and rising to his feet, let his + right hand rest on the silver foot of the lamp as he bowed to the Captain. + </p> + <p> + Captain Settle’s bravado was plainly oozing away before this polite + audacity: and seeing Sir Deakin taste the punch, he pull’d off his cap in + a shamefaced manner and sat down by the table with a word of thanks. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, sirs—come in!” call’d the old gentleman; “and follow your + friend’s example. ’Twill be a compliment to make me mix another bowl when + this is finish’d.” He stepped around the table to welcome them, still + resting his hand on the lamp, as if for steadiness. I saw his eye twinkle + as they shuffled in and stood around the chair where the Captain was + seated. + </p> + <p> + “Jacques, bring glasses from the cupboard yonder! And, Delia, fetch up + some chairs for our guests—no, sirs, pray do not move!” + </p> + <p> + He had waved his hand lightly to the door as he turned to us: and in an + instant the intention as well as the bright success of this comedy flash’d + upon me. There was now no one between us and the stairs, and as for Sir + Deakin himself, he had already taken the step of putting the table’s width + between him and his guests. + </p> + <p> + I touch’d the girl’s arm, and we made as if to fetch a couple of chairs + that stood against the wainscot by the door. As we did so, Sir Deakin + push’d the punch bowl forward under the Captain’s nose. + </p> + <p> + “Smell, sir,” he cried airily, “and report to your friends on the + foretaste.” + </p> + <p> + Settle’s nose hung over the steaming compound. With a swift pass of the + hand, the old gentleman caught up the lamp and had shaken a drop of + burning oil into the bowl. A great blaze leap’d to the ceiling. There was + a howl—a scream of pain; and as I push’d Mistress Delia through the + doorway and out to the head of the stairs, I caught a backward glimpse of + Sir Deakin rushing after us, with one of the stoutest among the robbers at + his heels. + </p> + <p> + “Downstairs, for your life!” I whisper’d to the girl, and turning, as her + father tumbled past me, let his pursuer run on my sword, as on a spit. At + the same instant, another blade pass’d through the fellow transversely, + and Jacques stood beside me, with his back to the lintel. + </p> + <p> + As we pull’d our swords out and the man dropp’d, I had a brief view into + the room, where now the blazing liquid ran off the table in a stream. + Settle, stamping with agony, had his palms press’d against his scorch’d + eyelids. The fat landlord, in trying to beat out the flames, had increased + them by upsetting two bottles of aqua vitae, and was dancing about with + three fingers in his mouth. The rest stood for the most part + dumbfounder’d: but Black Dick had his pistol lifted. + </p> + <p> + Jacques and I sprang out for the landing and round the doorway. Between + the flash and the report I felt a sudden scrape, as of a red-hot wire, + across my left thigh and just above the knee. + </p> + <p> + “Tenez, camarade,” said Jacques’ voice in my ear; “a moi la porte—a + vous le maitre, la-bas:” and he pointed down the staircase, where, by the + glare of the conflagration that beat past us, I saw the figures of Sir + Deakin and his daughter standing. + </p> + <p> + “But how can you keep the door against a dozen?” + </p> + <p> + The Frenchman shrugg’d his shoulders with a smile— + </p> + <p> + “Mais-comme ca!” + </p> + <p> + For at this moment came a rush of footsteps within the room. I saw a fat + paunch thrusting past us, a quiet pass of steel, and the landlord was + wallowing on his face across the threshold. Jacques’ teeth snapp’d + together as he stood ready for another victim: and as the fellows within + the room tumbled back, he motion’d me to leave him. + </p> + <p> + I sprang from his side, and catching the rail of the staircase, reach’d + the foot in a couple of bounds. + </p> + <p> + “Hurry!” I cried, and caught the old baronet by the hand. His daughter + took the other, and between us we hurried him across the passage for the + kitchen door. + </p> + <p> + Within, the chambermaid was on her knees by the settle, her face and apron + of the same hue. I saw she was incapable of helping, and hasten’d across + the stone floor, and out toward the back entrance. + </p> + <p> + A stream of icy wind blew in our faces as we stepp’d over the threshold. + The girl and I bent our heads to it, and stumbling, tripping, and panting, + pull’d Sir Deakin with us out into the cold air. + </p> + <p> + The yard was no longer dark. In the room above someone had push’d the + casement open, letting in the wind: and by this ’twas very evident the + room was on fire. Indeed, the curtains had caught, and as we ran, a pennon + of flame shot out over our heads, licking the thatch. In the glare of it + the outbuildings and the yard gate stood clearly out from the night. I + heard the trampling of feet, the sound of Settle’s voice shouting an + order, and then a dismal yell and clash of steel as we flung open the + gate. + </p> + <p> + “Jacques!” scream’d the old gentleman: “my poor Jacques! Those dogs will + mangle him with their cut and thrust—” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas very singular and sad, but as if in answer to Sir Deakin’s cry, we + heard the brave fellow’s voice; and a famous shout it must have been to + reach us over the roaring of the flames— + </p> + <p> + “Mon maitre-mon maitre!” he call’d twice, and then “Sauve toi!” in a + fainter voice, yet clear. And after that only a racket of shouts and + outcries reach’d us. Without doubt the villains had overpower’d and slain + this brave servant. In spite of our peril (for they would be after us at + once), ’twas all we could do to drag the old man from the gate and up the + road: and as he went he wept like a child. + </p> + <p> + After about fifty yards, we turn’d in at a gate, and began to cut across a + field: for I hop’d thus not only to baffle pursuit for a while, but also + to gain the wood that we saw dimly ahead. It reach’d to the top of the + hill, and I knew not how far beyond: and as I was reflecting that there + lay our chance of safety, I heard the inn door below burst open with loud + cries, and the sound of footsteps running up the road after us. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, to complete our fix, the clouds that had been scurrying across + the moon’s face, now for a minute left a clear interval of sky about her: + so that right in our course there lay a great patch brilliantly lit, + whereon our figures could be spied at once by anyone glancing into the + field. Also, it grew evident that Sir Deakin’s late agility was but a + short and sudden triumph of will over body: for his poor crooked legs + began to trail and lag sadly. So turning sharp about, we struck for the + hedge’s shadow, and there pull’d him down in a dry ditch, and lay with a + hand on his mouth to stifle his ejaculations, while we ourselves held our + breathing. + </p> + <p> + The runners came up the road, pausing for a moment by the gate. I heard it + creak, and saw two or three dark forms enter the field—the remainder + tearing on up the road with a great clatter of boots. + </p> + <p> + “Alas, my poor Jacques!” moan’d Sir Deakin: “and to be butcher’d so, that + never in his days kill’d a man but as if he lov’d him!” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” I whisper’d harshly, “if you keep this noise I must gag you.” And + with that he was silent for awhile. + </p> + <p> + There was a thick tangle of brambles in the ditch where we lay: and to + this we owe our lives. For one of the men, coming our way, pass’d within + two yards of us, with the flat of his sword beating the growth over our + heads. + </p> + <p> + “Reu-ben! Reuben Gedges!” call’d a voice by the gate. + </p> + <p> + The fellow turn’d; and peeping between the bramble twigs, I saw the + moonlight glittering on his blade. A narrow, light-hair’d man he was, with + a weak chin: and since then I have paid him out for the fright he gave us. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the coil?” he shouted back. + </p> + <p> + “The stable roofs ablaze—for the Lord’s sake come and save the + hosses!” + </p> + <p> + He strode back, and in a minute the field was clear. Creeping out with + caution, I grew aware of two mournful facts: first, that the stable was + indeed afire, as I perceiv’d by standing on tiptoe and looking over the + hedge; and second, that my knee was hurt by Black Dick’s bullet. The + muscles had stiffened while we were crouching, and now pain’d me badly. + Yet I kept it to myself as we started off again to run. + </p> + <p> + But at the stile that, at the top of the field, led into the woods, I + pull’d up— + </p> + <p> + “Sorry I am to say it, but you must go on without me.” + </p> + <p> + “O—oh!” cried the girl. + </p> + <p> + “’Tis for your safety. See, I leave a trail of blood behind me, so that + when day rises they will track us easily.” + </p> + <p> + And sure enough, even by the moon, ’twas easy to trace the dark spots on + the grass and earth beside the stile. My left boot, too, was full of + blood. + </p> + <p> + She was silent for awhile. Down in the valley we could hear the screams of + the poor horses. The light of the flames lit up the pine trunks about us + to a bright scarlet. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you hold our gratitude cheaply.” + </p> + <p> + She unwound the kerchief from her neck, and making me sit on the stile, + bound up my knee skillfully, twisting a short stick in the bandage to stop + the bleeding. + </p> + <p> + I thank’d her, and we hurried on into the depths of the wood, treading + silently on the deep carpet of pine needles. The ground rose steeply all + the way: and all the way, tho’ the light grew feebler, the roar and + outcries in the valley follow’d us. + </p> + <p> + Toward the hill’s summit the trees were sparser. Looking upward, I saw + that the sky had grown thickly overcast. We cross’d the ridge, and after a + minute or so were in thick cover again. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas here that Sir Deakin’s strength gave out. Almost without warning, he + sank down between our hands, and in a second was taken with that hateful + cough, that once already this night had frightened me for his life. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ah!” he groaned, between the spasms, “I’m not fit—I’m not fit + for it!” and was taken again, and roll’d about barking, so that I fear’d + the sound would bring all Settle’s gang on our heels. “I’m not fit for + it!” he repeated, as the cough left him, and he lay back helpless, among + the pine needles. + </p> + <p> + Now, I understood his words to bear on his unfitness for death, and judg’d + them very decent and properly spoken: and took occasion to hint this in my + attempts to console him. + </p> + <p> + “Why, bless the boy!” he cried, sitting up and staring, “for what d’ye + think I’m unsuited?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to die, sir—to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “Holy Mother!” he regarded me with surprise, contempt and pity, all + together: “was ever such a dunderhead! If ever man were fit to die, I am + he—and that’s just my reasonable complaint. Heart alive! ’tis unfit + to <i>live</i> I am, tied to this absurd body!” + </p> + <p> + I suppose my attitude express’d my lack of comprehension, for he lifted a + finger and went on— + </p> + <p> + “Tell me—can you eat beef, and drink beer, and enjoy them?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And fight—hey? and kiss a pretty girl, and be glad you’ve done it? + Dear, dear, how I do hate a fool and a fool’s pity! Lift me up and carry + me a step. This night’s work has kill’d me: I feel it in my lungs. ’Tis a + pity, too; for I was just beginning to enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + I lifted him as I would a babe, and off we set again, my teeth shutting + tight on the pain of my hurt. And presently, coming to a little dingle, + about half a mile down the hillside, well hid with dead bracken and + blackberry bushes, I consulted with the girl. The place was well shelter’d + from the wind that rock’d the treetops, and I fear’d to go much further, + for we might come on open country at any moment and so double our peril. + It seem’d best, therefore, to lay the old gentleman snugly in the bottom + of this dingle and wait for day. And with my buff-coat, and a heap of + dried leaves, I made him fairly easy, reserving my cloak to wrap about + Mistress Delia’s fair neck and shoulders. But against this at first she + protested. + </p> + <p> + “For how are you to manage?” she ask’d. + </p> + <p> + “I shall tramp up and down, and keep watch,” answer’d I, strewing a couch + for her beside her father: “and ’tis but fair exchange for the kerchief + you gave me from your own throat.” + </p> + <p> + At last I persuaded her, and she crept close to her father, and under the + edge of the buff-coat for warmth. There was abundance of dry bracken in + the dingle, and with this and some handfuls of pine needles, I cover’d + them over, and left them to find what sleep they might. + </p> + <p> + For two hours and more after this, I hobbled to and fro near them, as well + as my wound would allow, looking up at the sky through the pine tops, and + listening to the sobbing of the wind. Now and then I would swing my arms + for warmth, and breathe on my fingers, that were sorely benumb’d; and all + the while kept my ears on the alert, but heard nothing. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas, as I said, something over two hours after, that I felt a soft cold + touch, and then another, like kisses on my forehead. I put up my hand, and + looked up again at the sky. As I did so, the girl gave a long sigh, and + awoke from her doze— + </p> + <p> + “Sure, I must have dropp’d asleep,” she said, opening her eyes, and spying + my shadow above her: “has aught happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” replied I, “something is happening that will wipe out our traces + and my bloody track.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Snow: see, ’tis falling fast.” + </p> + <p> + She bent over, and listen’d to her father’s breathing. + </p> + <p> + “’Twill kill him,” she said simply. + </p> + <p> + I pull’d some more fronds of the bracken to cover them both. She thank’d + me, and offer’d to relieve me in my watch: which I refus’d. And indeed, by + lying down I should have caught my death, very likely. + </p> + <p> + The big flakes drifted down between the pines: till, as the moon paled, + the ground about me was carpeted all in white, with the foliage black as + ink above it. Time after time, as I tramp’d to and fro, I paus’d to brush + the fresh-forming heap from the sleepers’ coverlet, and shake it gently + from the tresses of the girl’s hair. The old man’s face was covered + completely by the buff-coat: but his breathing was calm and regular as any + child’s. + </p> + <p> + Day dawn’d. Awaking Mistress Delia, I ask’d her to keep watch for a time, + while I went off to explore. She crept out from her bed with a little + shiver of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “Run about,” I advis’d, “and keep the blood stirring.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded: and looking back, as I strode down the hill, I saw her moving + about quickly, swinging her arms, and only pausing to wave a hand to me + for goodspeed. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + ’Twas an hour before I return’d: and plenty I had to tell. Only at the + entrance to the dingle the words failed from off my tongue. The old + gentleman lay as he had lain throughout the night. But the bracken had + been toss’d aside, and the girl was kneeling over him. I drew near, my + step not arousing her. Sir Deakin’s face was pale and calm: but on the + snow that had gather’d by his head, lay a red streak of blood. ’Twas from + his lungs, and he was quite dead. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER VII. — I FIND A COMRADE. + </h2></div> + <h3> + But I must go back a little and tell you what befell in my expedition. + </h3> + <p> + I had scarce trudged out of sight of my friends, down the hill, when it + struck me that my footprints in the snow were in the last degree dangerous + to them, and might lead Settle and his crew straight to the dingle. Here + was a fix. I stood for some minutes nonpluss’d, when above the stillness + of the wood (for the wind had dropp’d) a faint sound as of running water + caught my ear, and help’d me to an idea. + </p> + <p> + The sound seem’d to come from my left. Turning aside I made across the + hill toward it, and after two hundred paces or so came on a tiny brook, + not two feet across, that gush’d down the slope with a quite considerable + chatter and impatience. The bed of it was mainly earth, with here and + there a large stone or root to catch the toe: so that, as I stepped into + the water and began to thread my way down between the banks of snow, ’twas + necessary to look carefully to my steps. + </p> + <p> + Here and there the brook fetch’d a leap down a sharper declivity, or shot + over a hanging stone: but, save for the wetting I took in these places, my + progress was easy enough. I must have waded in this manner for half a + mile, keeping the least possible noise, when at an angle ahead I spied a + clearing among the pines, and to the right of the stream, on the very + verge, a hut of logs standing, with a wood rick behind it. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a low building, but somewhat long, and I guess’d it to be, in summer + time, a habitation for the woodcutters. But what surpris’d me was to hear + a dull, moaning noise, very regular and disquieting, that sounded from the + interior of the hut. I listen’d, and hit on the explication. ’Twas the + sound of snoring. + </p> + <p> + Drawing nearer with caution, I noticed, in that end of the hut which stood + over the stream, a gap, or window hole. The sound issued through this like + the whirring of a dozen looms. “He must be an astonishing fellow,” thought + I, “that can snore in this fashion. I’ll have a peep before I wake him.” I + waded down till I stood under the sill, put both hands upon it, and + pulling myself up quiet as a mouse, stuck my face in at the window—and + then very nearly sat back into the brook for fright. + </p> + <p> + For I had gazed straight down into the upturn’d faces of Captain Settle + and his gang. + </p> + <p> + How long I stood there, with the water rushing past my ankles and my body + turning from cold to hot, and back again, I cannot tell you. But ’twas + until, hearing no pause in the sleepers’ chorus, I found courage for + another peep: and that must have been some time. + </p> + <p> + There were but six rascals beside the Captain (so that Jacques must have + died hard, thought I), and such a raffle of arms and legs and swollen + up-turn’d faces as they made I defy you to picture. For they were pack’d + close as herrings; and the hut was fill’d up with their horses, ready + saddled, and rubbing shoulder to loin, so narrow was the room. It needed + the open window to give them air: and even so, ’twas not over-fresh + inside. + </p> + <p> + I had no mind to stay: but before leaving found myself in the way of + playing these villains a pretty trick. To right and left of the window, + above their heads, extended two rude shelves that now were heap’d with + what I conjectured to be the spoils of the larder of the “Three Cups.” + Holding my breath and thrusting my head and shoulders into the room, I ran + my hand along and was quickly possess’d of a boil’d ham, two capons, a + loaf, the half of a cold pie, and a basket holding three dozen eggs. All + these prizes I filched one by one, with infinite caution. + </p> + <p> + I was gently pulling the basket through the window hole, when I heard one + of the crew yawn and stretch himself in his sleep. So, determining to risk + no more, I quietly pack’d the basket, slung it on my right arm, and with + the ham grasp’d by the knuckle in my left, made my way up the stream. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas thus laden that I enter’d the dingle, and came on the sad sight + therein. I set down the ham as a thing to be asham’d of, and bar’d my + head. The girl lifted her face, and turning, all white and tragical, saw + me. + </p> + <p> + “My father is dead, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I stoop’d and pil’d a heap of fresh snow over the blood stains. There was + no intent in this but to hide the pity that chok’d me. She had still to + hear about her brother, Anthony. Turning, as by a sudden thought, I took + her hand. She look’d into my eyes, and her own filled with tears. ’Twas + the human touch that loosen’d their flow, I think: and sinking down again + beside her father, she wept her fill. + </p> + <p> + “Mistress Killigrew,” I said, as soon as the first violence of her tears + was abated, “I have still some news that is ill hearing. Your enemies are + encamp’d in the woods, about a half mile below this”—and with that I + told my story. + </p> + <p> + “They have done their worst, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with a question on her lip. + </p> + <p> + Said I, “you must believe me yet a short while without questioning.” + </p> + <p> + Considering for a moment, she nodded. “You have a right, sir, to be + trusted, tho’ I know not so much as your name. Then we must stay close in + hiding?” she added very sensibly, tho’ with the last word her voice + trail’d off, and she began again to weep. + </p> + <p> + But in time, having cover’d the dead baronet’s body with sprays of the + wither’d bracken, I drew her to a little distance and prevail’d on her to + nibble a crust of the loaf. Now, all this while, it must be remembered, I + was in my shirt sleeves, and the weather bitter cold. Which at length her + sorrow allow’d her to notice. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are shivering, sore!” she said, and running, drew my buff-coat + from her father’s body, and held it out to me. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” I answer’d, “I was thinking of another expedition to warm my + blood.” And promising to be back in half an hour, I follow’d down my + former tracks toward the stream. + </p> + <p> + Within twenty minutes I was back, running and well-nigh shouting with joy. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” I cried to her, “come and see for yourself!” + </p> + <p> + What had happen’d was this:—Wading cautiously down the brook, I had + cause suddenly to prick up my ears and come to a halt. ’Twas the muffled + tramp of hoofs that I heard, and creeping a bit further, I caught a + glimpse, beyond the hut, of a horse and rider disappearing down the woods. + He was the last of the party, as I guess’d from the sound of voices and + jingling of bits further down the slope. Advancing on the hut with more + boldness, I found it deserted. I scrambled up on the bank and round to the + entrance. The snow before it was trampled and sullied by the footmarks of + men and horses: and as I noted this, came Settle’s voice calling up the + slope—— + </p> + <p> + “Jerry—Jerry Toy!” + </p> + <p> + A nearer voice hail’d in answer. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s Reuben?” + </p> + <p> + “Coming, Captain—close behind!” + </p> + <p> + “Curse him for a loitering idiot! We’ve wasted time enough, as ’tis,” + called back the Captain. “How in thunder is a man to find the road out of + this cursed wood?” + </p> + <p> + “Straight on, Cap’n—you can’t miss it,” shouted another voice, not + two gunshots below. + </p> + <p> + A volcano of oaths pour’d up from Settle. I did not wait for the end of + them: but ran back for Mistress Delia. + </p> + <p> + Together we descended to the hut. By this time the voices had faded away + in distance. Yet to make sure that the rascals had really departed, we + follow’d their tracks for some way, beside the stream; and suddenly came + to a halt with cries of joyful surprise. + </p> + <p> + The brook had led us to a point where, over a stony fall veil’d with brown + bracken, it plunged into a narrow ravine. Standing on the lip, where the + water took a smoother glide before leaping, we saw the line of the ravine + mark’d by a rift in the pines, and through this a slice of the country + that lay below. ’Twas a level plain, well watered, and dotted here and + there with houses. A range of wooded hills clos’d the view, and toward + them a broad road wound gently, till the eye lost it at their base. All + this was plain enough, in spite of the snow that cover’d the landscape. + For the sun had burst out above, and the few flakes that still fell looked + black against his brilliance and the dazzling country below. + </p> + <p> + But what caus’d our joy was to see, along the road, a small cavalcade + moving away from us, with many bright glances of light and color, as their + steel caps and sashes took the sunshine—a pretty sight, and the + prettier because it meant our present deliverance. + </p> + <p> + The girl beside me gave a cry of delight, then sigh’d; and after a minute + began to walk back toward the hut: where I left her, and ran up hill for + the basket and ham. On my return, I found her examining a heap of rusty + tools that, it seem’d, she had found on a shelf of the building. ’Twas no + light help to the good fellowship that afterward united us, that from the + first I could read her thoughts often without words; and for this reason, + that her eyes were as candid as the noonday. + </p> + <p> + So now I answer’d her aloud— + </p> + <p> + “This afternoon we may venture down to the plain, where no doubt we shall + find a clergyman to sell us a patch of holy ground—” + </p> + <p> + “Holy ground?” She look’d at me awhile and shook her head. “I am not of + your religion,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “And your father?” + </p> + <p> + “I think no man ever discovered my father’s religion. Perhaps there was + none to discover: but he was no bad father” she steadied her voice and + went on:—“He would prefer the hillside to your ‘holy ground.’” + </p> + <p> + So, an hour later, I delv’d his grave in the frosty earth, close by the + spot where he lay. Somehow, I shiver’d all the while, and had a cruel + shooting pain in my wound that was like to have mastered me before the + task was ended. But I managed to lower the body softly into the hole and + to cover it reverently from sight: and afterward stood leaning on my spade + and feeling very light in the head, while the girl knelt and pray’d for + her father’s soul. + </p> + <p> + And the picture of her as she knelt is the last I remember, till I open’d + my eyes, and was amazed to find myself on my back, and staring up at + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “What has happen’d?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are very ill,” said a voice: “can you lean on me, and reach + the hut?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes: that is, I think so. Why is everything dark?” + </p> + <p> + “The sun has been down for hours. You have been in a swoon first, and then + talk’d—oh, such nonsense! Shame on me, to let you catch this chill!” + </p> + <p> + She help’d me to my feet and steadied me: and how we reached the hut I + cannot tell you. It took more than one weary hour, as I now know; but, at + the time, hours and minutes were one to me. + </p> + <p> + In that hut I lay four nights and four days, between ague fit and fever. + And that is all the account I can give of the time, save that, on the + second day, the girl left me alone in the hut and descended to the plain, + where, after asking at many cottages for a physician, she was forced to be + content with an old woman reputed to be amazingly well skill’d in herbs + and medicines; whom, after a day’s trial, she turn’d out of doors. On the + fourth day, fearing for my life, she made another descent, and coming to a + wayside tavern, purchased a pint of aqua vitae, carried it back, and mix’d + a potion that threw me into a profuse sweat. The same evening I sat up, a + sound man. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, so thoroughly was I recover’d that, waking early next morning, and + finding my sweet nurse asleep from sheer weariness, in a corner of the + hut, I stagger’d up from my bed of dried bracken, and out into the pure + air. Rare it was to stand and drink it in like wine. A footstep arous’d + me. ’Twas Mistress Delia: and turning, I held out my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Now this is famous,” said she: “a day or two will see you as good a man + as ever.” + </p> + <p> + “A day or two? To-morrow at latest, I shall make trial to start.” I noted + a sudden change on her face, and added: “Indeed, you must hear my reasons + before setting me down for an ingrate;” and told her of the King’s letter + that I carried. “I hoped that for a while our ways might lie together,” + said I; and broke off, for she was looking me earnestly in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, as you know, my brother Anthony was to have met me—nay, for + pity’s sake, turn not your face away! I have guess’d—the sword you + carry—I mark’d it. Sir, be merciful, and tell me!” + </p> + <p> + I led her a little aside to the foot of a tall pine; and there, tho’ it + rung my heart, told her all; and left her to wrestle with this final + sorrow. She was so tender a thing to be stricken thus, that I who had + dealt the blow crept back to the hut, covering my eyes. In an hour’s time + I look’d out. She was gone. + </p> + <p> + At nightfall she return’d, white with grief and fatigue; yet I was glad to + see her eyes red and swol’n with weeping. Throughout our supper she kept + silence; but when ’twas over, look’d up and spoke in a steady tone—— + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I have a favor to ask, and must risk being held importunate—” + </p> + <p> + “From you to me,” I put in, “all talk of favors had best be dropp’d.” + </p> + <p> + “No—listen. If ever it befel you to lose father or mother or dearly + loved friend, you will know how the anguish stuns—Oh sir! to-day the + sun seem’d fallen out of heaven, and I a blind creature left groping in + the void. Indeed, sir, ’tis no wonder: I had a father, brother, and + servant ready to die for me—three hearts to love and lean on: and + to-day they are gone.” + </p> + <p> + I would have spoken, but she held up a hand. + </p> + <p> + “Now when you spoke of Anthony—a dear lad!—I lay for some time + dazed with grief. By little and little, as the truth grew plainer, the + pain grew also past bearing. I stood up and stagger’d into the woods to + escape it. I went fast and straight, heeding nothing, for at first my + senses were all confus’d: but in a while the walking clear’d my wits, and + I could think: and thinking, I could weep: and having wept, could fortify + my heart. Here is the upshot, sir—tho’ ’tis held immodest for a maid + to ask even far less of a man. We are both bound for Cornwall—you on + an honorable mission, I for my father’s estate of Gleys, wherefrom (as + your tale proves) some unseen hands are thrusting me. Alike we carry our + lives in our hands. You must go forward: I may not go back. For from a + King who cannot right his own affairs there is little hope; and in + Cornwall I have surer friends than he. Therefore take me, sir—take + me for a comrade! Am I sad? Do you fear a weary journey? I will smile—laugh—sing—put + sorrow behind me. I will contrive a thousand ways to cheat the milestones. + At the first hint of tears, discard me, and go your way with no prick of + conscience. Only try me—oh, the shame of speaking thus!” + </p> + <p> + Her voice had grown more rapid toward the close: and now, breaking off, + she put both hands to cover her face, that was hot with blushes. I went + over and took them in mine: + </p> + <p> + “You have made me the blithest man alive,” said I. She drew back a + pace with a frighten’d look, and would have pull’d her hands away. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” I went on quickly, “you have paid me this high compliment, to + trust me. Proud was I to listen to you; and merrily will the miles pass + with you for comrade. And so I say—Mistress Killigrew, take me for + your servant.” + </p> + <p> + To my extreme discomposure, as I dropp’d her hands, her eyes were + twinkling with laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Dear now; I see a dull prospect ahead if we use these long titles!” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir, please yourself. Only as I intend to call you ‘Jack’ perhaps + ‘Delia’ will be more of a piece than ‘Mistress Killigrew.’” She dropp’d me + a mock curtsey. “And now, Jack, be a good boy, and hitch me this quilt + across the hut. I bought it yesterday at a cottage below here——” + </p> + <p> + She ended the sentence with the prettiest blush imaginable; and so, having + fix’d her screen, we shook hands on our comradeship, and wish’d each other + good night. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER VIII. — I LOSE THE KING’S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL. + </h2></div> + <p> + Almost before daylight we were afoot, and the first ray of cold sunshine + found us stepping from the woods into the plain, where now the snow was + vanished and a glistening coat of rime spread over all things. Down here + the pines gave way to bare elms and poplars, thickly dotted, and among + them the twisting smoke of farmstead and cottage, here and there, and the + morning stir of kitchen and stable very musical in the crisp air. + </p> + <p> + Delia stepped along beside me, humming an air or breaking off to chatter. + Meeting us, you would have said we had never a care. The road went + stretching away to the northwest and the hills against the sky there; + whither beyond, we neither knew nor (being both young, and one, by this + time, pretty deep in love) did greatly care. Yet meeting with a waggoner + and his team, we drew up to enquire. + </p> + <p> + The waggoner had a shock of whitish hair and a face purple-red above, by + reason of the cold, and purple-black below, for lack of a barber. He + purs’d up his mouth and look’d us slowly up and down. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said I, “you are not deaf, I hope, nor dumb.” + </p> + <p> + “Send I may niver!” the fellow ejaculated, slowly and with contemplation: + “’tis an unseemly sight, yet tickling to the mirthfully minded. Haw—haw!” + He check’d his laughter suddenly and stood like a stone image beside his + horses. + </p> + <p> + “Good sir,” said Delia, laying a hand on my arm (for I was growing + nettled), “your mirth is a riddle: but tell us our way and you are free to + laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Scarlet—Scarlet!” answer’d he: “and to me, that am a man o’ + blushes from my cradle!” + </p> + <p> + Convinced by this that the fellow must be an idiot, I told him so, and + left him staring after us; nor heard the sound of his horses moving on + again for many minutes. + </p> + <p> + After this we met about a dozen on the road, and all paus’d to stare. But + from one—an old woman—we learn’d we were walking toward + Marlboro’, and about noon were over the hills and looking into the valley + beyond. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas very like the other vale; only a pleasant stream wound along the + bottom, by the banks of which the road took us. Here, by a bridge, we came + to an inn bearing the sign of “The Broad Face,” and entered: for Captain + Settle’s stock of victuals was now done. A sour-fac’d woman met us at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Do you stay here,” Delia advis’d me, “and drink a mug of beer while I + bargain with the hostess for fresh food.” She follow’d the sour-fac’d + woman into the house. + </p> + <p> + But out she comes presently with her cheeks flaming and a pair of bright + eyes. “Come!” she commanded, “come at once!” Setting down my half emptied + mug, I went after her across the bridge and up the road, wondering. In + this way we must have walk’d for a mile or more before she turn’d and + stamp’d her little foot— + </p> + <p> + “Horrible!” she cried. “Horrible—wicked—shameful! Ugh!” There + were tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What is shameful?” + </p> + <p> + She made no reply, but walk’d on again quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I am getting hungry, for my part,” sigh’d I, after a little. + </p> + <p> + “Then you must starve!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + She wheel’d round again. + </p> + <p> + “Jack, this will never do. If you are to have a comrade, let it be a boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, I am very passably content as things are.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense: at Marlboro’, I mean, you must buy me a suit of boy’s clothes. + What are you hearkening to?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I heard the noise of guns—or is it thunder?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Jack, don’t say ’tis thunder! I do mortally fear thunder—and + mice.” + </p> + <p> + “’Twouldn’t be thunder at this time of year. No, ’tis guns firing.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?—not that I mind guns.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahead of us.” + </p> + <p> + On the far side of the valley we enter’d a wood, thinking by this to + shorten our way: for the road here took a long bend to eastward. Now, at + first this wood seem’d of no considerable size, but thicken’d and spread + as we advanced. ’Twas only, however, after passing the ridge, and when + daylight began to fail us, that I became alarm’d. For the wood grew + denser, with a tangle of paths criss-crossing amid the undergrowth. And + just then came the low mutter of cannon again, shaking the earth. We began + to run forward, tripping in the gloom over brambles, and stumbling into + holes. + </p> + <p> + For a mile or so this lasted: and then, without warning, I heard a sound + behind me, and look’d back, to find Delia sunk upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Jack, here’s a to-do!” + </p> + <p> + “What’s amiss?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I am going to swoon!” + </p> + <p> + The words were scarce out, when there sounded a crackling and snapping of + twigs ahead, and two figures came rushing toward us—a man and a + woman. The man carried an infant in his arms: and tho’ I call’d on them to + stop, the pair ran by us with no more notice than if we had been stones. + Only the woman cried, “Dear Lord, save us!” and wrung her hands as she + pass’d out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “This is strange conduct,” thought I: but peering down, saw that Delia’s + face was white and motionless. She had swoon’d, indeed, from weariness and + hunger. So I took her in my arms and stumbled forward, hoping to find the + end of the wood soon. For now the rattle of artillery came louder and + incessant through the trees, and mingling with it, a multitude of dull + shouts and outcries. At first I was minded to run after the man and woman, + but on second thought, resolv’d to see the danger before hiding from it. + </p> + <p> + The trees, in a short while, grew sparser, and between the stems I mark’d + a ruddy light glowing. And then I came out on an open space upon the + hillside, with a dip of earth in front; and beyond, a long ridge of pines + standing up black, because of a red glare behind them; and saw that this + came not from any setting sun, but was the light of a conflagration. + </p> + <p> + The glare danced and quiver’d in the sky, as I cross’d the hollow. It made + even Delia’s white cheek seem rosy. Up amid the pines I clamor’d, and + along the ridge to where it broke off in a steep declivity. And lo! in a + minute I look’d down as ’twere into the infernal pit. + </p> + <p> + There was a whole town burning below. And in the streets men were + fighting, as could be told by their shouts and the rattle and blaze of + musketry. For a garment of smoke lay over all and hid them: only the + turmoil beat up as from a furnace, and the flames of burning thatches, and + quick jets of firearms like lightning in a thundercloud. Great sparks + floated past us, and over the trees at our back. A hot blast breath’d on + our cheeks. Now and then you might hear a human shriek distinct amid the + din, and this spoke terribly to the heart. + </p> + <p> + Now the town was Marlboro’, and the attacking force a body of royal troops + sent from Oxford to oust the garrison of the Parliament, which they did + this same night, with great slaughter, driving the rebels out of the + place, and back on the road to Bristol. Had we guess’d this, much ill luck + had been spared us; but we knew nought of it, nor whether friends or foes + were getting the better. So (Delia being by this time recover’d a little) + we determined to pass the night in the woods, and on the morrow to give + the place a wide berth. + </p> + <p> + Retreating, then, to the hollow (that lay on the lee side of the ridge, + away from the north wind), I gather’d a pile of great stones, and spread + my cloak thereover for Delia. To sleep was impossible, even with the will + for it. For the tumult and fighting went on, and only died out about an + hour before dawn: and once or twice we were troubled to hear the sound of + people running on the ridge above. So we sat and talked in low voices till + dawn; and grew more desperately hunger’d than ever. + </p> + <p> + With the chill of daybreak we started, meaning to get quit of the + neighborhood before any espied us; and fetch’d a compass to the south + without another look at Marlboro’. At the end of two hours, turning + northwest again, we came to some water meadows beside a tiny river (the + Kennet, as I think), and saw, some way beyond, a high road that cross’d to + our side (only the bridge was now broken down), and further yet, a thick + smoke curling up; but whence this came I could not see. Now we had been + avoiding all roads this morning, and hiding at every sound of footsteps. + But hunger was making us bold. I bade Delia crouch down by the stream’s + bank, where many alders grew, and set off toward this column of smoke. + </p> + <p> + By the spot where the road cross’d I noted that many men and horses had + lately pass’d hereby to westward, and, by their footmarks, at a great + speed. A little further, and I came on a broken musket flung against the + hedge, with a nauseous mess of blood and sandy hairs about the stock of + it; and just beyond was a dead horse, his legs sticking up like bent poles + across the road. ’Twas here that my blood went cold on a sudden, to hear a + dismal groaning not far ahead. I stood still, holding my breath, and then + ran forward again. + </p> + <p> + The road took a twist that led me face to face with a small whitewashed + cottage, smear’d with black stains of burning. For seemingly it had been + fir’d in one or two places, only the flames had died out: and from the + back, where some out-building yet smoulder’d, rose the smoke that I spied. + But what brought me to a stand was to see the doorway all crack’d and + charr’d, and across it a soldier stretch’d—a green-coated rebel—and + quite dead. His face lay among the burn’d ruins of the door, that had + wofully singed his beard and hair. A stain of blood ran across the door + stone and into the road. + </p> + <p> + I was gazing upon him and shuddering, when again I heard the groans. They + issued from the upper chamber of the cottage. I stepped over the dead + soldier and mounted the ladder that led upstairs. + </p> + <p> + The upper room was but a loft. In it were two beds, whereof one was empty. + On the edge of the other sat up a boy of sixteen or thereabouts, stark + naked and moaning miserably. With one hand he seem’d trying to cover a big + wound that gaped in his chest: the other, as my head rose over the ladder, + he stretch’d out with all the fingers spread. And this was his last + effort. As I stumbled up, his fingers clos’d in a spasm of pain; his hands + dropp’d, and the body tumbled back on the bed, where it lay with the legs + dangling. + </p> + <p> + The poor lad must have been stabb’d as he lay asleep. For by the bedside I + found his clothes neatly folded and without a speck of blood. They were + clean, though coarse; so thinking they would serve for Delia, I took them, + albeit with some scruples at robbing the dead, and covering the body with + a sheet, made my way downstairs. + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: “Oh, Jack—they do not fit at all!”—Page 121.] + </p> + <p> + Here, on a high shelf at the foot of the ladder, I discover’d a couple of + loaves and some milk, and also, lying hard by, a pair of shepherd’s + shears, which I took also, having a purpose for them. By this time, being + sick enough of the place, I was glad to make all speed back to Delia. + </p> + <p> + She was still waiting among the leafless alders, and clapp’d her hands to + see the two loaves under my arm. + </p> + <p> + Said I, flinging down the clothes, and munching at my share of the bread— + </p> + <p> + “Here is the boy’s suit that you wish’d for.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! ’tis not a very choice one.” Her face fell. + </p> + <p> + “All the better for escaping notice.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but I <i>like</i> to be notic’d!” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when breakfast was done, she consented to try on the + clothes. I left her eyeing them doubtfully, and stroll’d away by the + river’s bank. In a while her voice call’d to me— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack—they do not fit at all!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, ’tis admirable!” said I, returning, and scanning her. Now this was a + lie: but she took me more than ever, so pretty and comical she look’d in + the dress. + </p> + <p> + “And I cannot walk a bit in them!” she pouted, strutting up and down. + </p> + <p> + “Swing your arms more, and let them hang looser.” + </p> + <p> + “And my hair. Oh, Jack, I have such beautiful hair!” + </p> + <p> + “It must come off,” said I, pulling the shears out of my pocket. + </p> + <p> + “And look at these huge boots!” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, this was the main trouble, for I knew they would hurt her in + walking: yet she made more fuss about her hair, and only gave in when I + scolded her roundly. So I took the shears and clipp’d the chestnut curls, + one by one, while she cried for vexation; and took occasion of her tears + to smuggle the longest lock inside my doublet. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + But, an hour after, she was laughing again, and had learned to cock the + poor country lad’s cap rakishly over one eye: and by evening was walking + with a swagger and longing (I know) to meet with folks. For, to spare her + the sight of the ruin’d cottage, I had taken her round through the fields, + and by every bypath that seem’d to lead westward. ’Twas safer to journey + thus; and all the way she practic’d a man’s carriage and airs, and how to + wink and whistle and swing a stick. And once, when she left one of her + shoes in a wet ditch, she said “d—n!” as natural as life: and then— + </p> + <p> + We jump’d over a hedge, plump into an outpost of rebels, as they sat + munching their supper. + </p> + <p> + They were six in all, and must have been sitting like mice: for all I know + of it is this. I had climb’d the hedge first, and was helping Delia over, + when out of the ground, as it seem’d, a voice shriek’d, “Run—run!—the + King’s men are on us!” and then, my foot slipping, down I went on to the + shoulders of a thick-set man, and well-nigh broke his neck as he turn’d to + look up at me. + </p> + <p> + At first, the whole six were for running, I believe. But seeing only a lad + stretch’d on his face, and a second on the hedge, they thought better of + it. Before I could scramble up, one pair of hands was screw’d about my + neck, another at my heels, and in a trice there we were pinion’d. + </p> + <p> + “Fetch the lantern, Zacchaeus.” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas quickly lit, and thrust into my face; and very foolish I must have + look’d. The fellows were all clad in green coats, much soil’d with mud and + powder. And they grinn’d in my face till I long’d to kick them. + </p> + <p> + “Search the malignant!” cried one. “Question him,” call’d out another; and + forthwith began a long interrogatory concerning the movements of his + Majesty’s troops, from which, indeed, I learn’d much concerning the late + encounter: but of course could answer nought. ’Twas only natural they + should interpret this silence for obstinacy. + </p> + <p> + “March ’em off to Captain Stubbs!” + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” shouted a pockmarked trooper, that had his hand thrust in on my + breast: “bring the lantern close here. What’s this?” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas, alas! the King’s letter: and I bit my lip while they cluster’d + round, turning the lantern’s yellow glare upon the superscription. + </p> + <p> + “Lads, there’s promotion in this!” shouted the thick-set man I had tumbled + on (who, it seem’d, was the sergeant in the troop): “hand me the letter, + there! Zacchaeus Martin and Tom Pine—you two bide here on duty: + t’other three fall in about the prisoners—quick march!’ The wicked + have digged a pit—’” + </p> + <p> + The rogue ended up with a tag from the Psalmist. + </p> + <p> + We were march’d down the road for a mile or more, till we heard a loud + bawling, as of a man in much bodily pain, and soon came to a small + village, where, under a tavern lamp, by the door, was a man perch’d up on + a tub, and shouting forth portions of the Scripture to some twenty or more + green-coats assembled round. Our conductor pushed past these, and enter’d + the tavern. At a door to the left in the passage he halted, and knocking + once, thrust us inside. + </p> + <p> + The room was bare and lit very dimly by two tallow candles, set in + bottles. Between these, on a deal table, lay a map outspread, and over it + a man was bending, who look’d up sharply at our entrance. + </p> + <p> + He was thin, with a blue nose, and wore a green uniform like the rest: + only his carriage proved him a man of authority. + </p> + <p> + This Captain Stubbs listened, you may be sure, with a bright’ning eye to + the sergeant’s story; and at the close fix’d an inquisitive gaze on the + pair of us, turning the King’s letter over and over in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “How came this in your possession?” he ask’d at length. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said I, “I must decline to tell.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated a moment; then, re-seating himself, broke the seal, spread + the letter upon the map, and read it slowly through. For the first time I + began heartily to hope that the paper contain’d nothing of moment. But the + man’s face was no index of this. He read it through twice, folded it away + in his breast, and turn’d to the sergeant— + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow at six in the morning we continue our march. Meanwhile keep + these fellows secure. I look to you for this.” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant saluted and we were led out. That night we pass’d in + handcuffs, huddled with fifty soldiers in a hayloft of the inn and + hearkening to their curious talk, that was half composed of Holy Writ and + half of gibes at our expense. They were beaten men and, like all such, + found comfort in deriding the greater misfortunes of others. + </p> + <p> + Before daylight the bugles began to sound, and we were led down to the + green before the tavern door, where already were close upon five hundred + gather’d, that had been billeted about the village and were now forming in + order of march—a soil’d, batter’d crew, with torn ensigns and little + heart in their movements. The sky began a cold drizzle as we set out, and + through this saddening whether we trudged all day, Delia and I being kept + well apart, she with the vanguard and I in the rear, seeing only the + winding column, the dejected heads bobbing in front as they bent to the + slanting rain, the cottagers that came out to stare as we pass’d; and + hearing but the hoarse words of command, the low mutterings of the men, + and always the monotonous <i>tramp-tramp</i> through the slush and mire of + the roads. + </p> + <p> + ’Tis like a bad dream to me, and I will not dwell on it. That night we + pass’d at Chippenham—a small market town—and on the morrow + went tramping again through worse weather, but always amid the same sights + and sounds. There were moments when I thought to go mad, wrenching at my + cords till my wrists bled, yet with no hope to escape. But in time, by + good luck, my wits grew deaden’d to it all, and I march’d on with the rest + to a kind of lugubrious singsong that my brain supplied. For hours I went + thus, counting my steps, missing my reckoning, and beginning again. + </p> + <p> + Daylight was failing when the towers of Bristol grew clear out of the + leaden mist in front; and by five o’clock we halted outside the walls and + beside the ditch of the castle, waiting for the drawbridge to be let down. + Already a great crowd had gather’d about us, of those who had come out to + learn news of the defeat, which, the day before some fugitives had carried + to Bristol. To their questions, as to all else, I listen’d like a man in a + trance: and recall this only—that first I was shivering out in the + rain and soon after was standing beside Delia, under guard of a dozen + soldiers, and shaking with cold, beneath a gateway that led between the + two wards of the castle. And there, for an hour at least, we kick’d our + heels, until from the inner ward Captain Stubbs came striding and + commanded us to follow. + </p> + <p> + Across the court we went in the rain, through a vaulted passage, and + passing a screen of carved oak found ourselves suddenly in a great hall, + near forty yards long (as I reckon it), and rafter’d with oak. At the far + end, around a great marble table, were some ten or more gentlemen seated, + who all with one accord turn’d their eyes upon us, as the captain brought + us forward. + </p> + <p> + The table before them was litter’d with maps, warrants, and papers; and + some of the gentlemen had pens in their hands. But the one on whom my eyes + fastened was a tall, fair soldier that sat in the centre, and held his + Majesty’s letter, open, in his hand: who rose and bow’d to me as I came + near. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he said, “the fortune of war having given you into our hands, you + will not refuse, I hope, to answer our questions.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I have nought to tell,” answer’d I, bowing in return. + </p> + <p> + With a delicate white hand he wav’d my words aside. He had a handsome, + irresolute mouth, and was, I could tell, of very different degree from the + merchants and lawyers beside him. + </p> + <p> + “You act under orders from the—the—” + </p> + <p> + “Anti-Christ,” put in a snappish little fellow on his right. + </p> + <p> + “I do nothing of the sort,” said I. “Well, then, sir, from King + Charles.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not.” + </p> + <p> + “Tush!” exclaim’d the snappish man, and then straightening himself up—“That + boy with you—that fellow disguis’d as a countryman—look at his + boots!—he’s a Papist spy!” + </p> + <p> + “There, sir, you are wrong!” + </p> + <p> + “I saw him—I’ll be sworn to his face—I saw him, a year back, + at Douai, helping at the mass! I never forget faces.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what nonsense!” cried I, and burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t mock at me, sir!” he thunder’d, bringing down his fist on the + table. “I tell you the boy is a Papist!” He pointed furiously at Delia, + who, now laughing also, answer’d him very demurely— + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir—” + </p> + <p> + “I saw you, I say.” + </p> + <p> + “You are bold to make so certain of a Papist—” + </p> + <p> + “I saw you!” + </p> + <p> + “That cannot even tell maid from man!” + </p> + <p> + “What is meant by that?” asks the tall soldier, opening his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Why, simply this, sir: I am no boy at all, but a girl!” + </p> + <p> + There was a minute, during which the little man went purple in the face, + and the rest star’d at Delia in blank astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack,” she whisper’d in my ear, “I am so very, very sorrow: but I <i>cannot</i> + wear these hateful clothes much longer.” + </p> + <p> + She fac’d the company with a rosy blush. + </p> + <p> + “What say you to this?” ask’d Colonel Essex—for ’twas he—turning + round on the little man. + </p> + <p> + “Say? What do I say? That the fellow is a Papist, too. I knew it from the + first, and this proves it!” + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER IX. — I BREAK OUT OF PRISON. + </h2></div> + <p> + You are now to be ask’d to pass over the next four weeks in as many + minutes: as would I had done at the time! For I spent them in a bitter + cold cell in the main tower of Bristol keep, with a chair and a pallet of + straw for all my furniture, and nothing to stay my fast but the bread and + water that the jailer—a sour man, if ever there were one—brought + me twice a day. + </p> + <p> + This keep lies in the northwest corner of the outer ward of the castle—a + mighty tall pile and strongly built, the walls (as the jailer told me) + being a full twenty-five feet thick near the foundations, tho’ by time you + ascended to the towers this thickness had dwindled to six feet and no + more. In shape ’twas a quadrilateral, a little shorter from north to south + than from east to west (in which latter direction it measured sixty feet, + about), and had four towers standing at the four corners, whereof mine was + five fathoms higher than the rest. + </p> + <p> + Guess, then, how little I thought of escape, having but one window, a + hundred feet (I do believe) above the ground, and that so narrow that, + even without the iron bar across it, ’twould barely let my shoulders pass. + What concern’d me more was the cold that gnaw’d me continually these + winter nights, as I lay thinking of Delia (whom I had not seen since our + examination), or gazing out on the patch of frosty heaven that was all my + view. ’Twas thus I had heard Bristol bells ringing for Christmas in the + town below. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Essex had been thrice to visit me, and always offer’d many excuses + for my treatment; but when he came to question me, why of course I had + nothing to tell, so that each visit but served to vex him more. Clearly I + was suspected to know a great deal beyond what appear’d in the letter: and + no doubt poor Anthony Killigrew had receiv’d some verbal message from His + Majesty which he lived not long enough to transmit to me. As ’twas, I kept + silence; and the Colonel in return would tell me nothing of what had + befallen Delia. + </p> + <p> + One fine, frosty morning, then, when I had lain in this distress just four + weeks, the door of my cell open’d, and there appear’d a young woman, not + uncomely, bringing in my bread and water. She was the jailer’s daughter, + and wore a heavy bunch of keys at her girdle. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good morning!” said I: for till now her father only had visited me, + and this was a welcome change. + </p> + <p> + Instead of answering cheerfully (as I look’d for), she gave a little nod + of the head, rather sorrowful, and answered:— + </p> + <p> + “Father’s abed with the ague.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you cannot expect me to be sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” she said; and I caught her looking at me with something like + compassion in her blue eyes, which mov’d me to cry out suddenly— + </p> + <p> + “I think you are woman enough to like a pair of lovers.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, aye: but where’s t’other half of the pair?” + </p> + <p> + “You’re right. The young gentlewoman that was brought hither with me—I + know not if she loves me: but this I do know—I would give my hand to + learn her whereabouts, and how she fares.” + </p> + <p> + “Better eat thy loaf,” put in the girl very suddenly, setting down the + plate and pitcher. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas odd, but I seem’d to hear a sob in her voice. However, her back was + toward me as I glanc’d up. And next moment she was gone, locking the iron + door behind her. + </p> + <p> + I turn’d from my breakfast with a sigh, having for the moment tasted the + hope to hear something of Delia. But in a while, feeling hungry, I pick’d + up the loaf beside me, and broke it in two. + </p> + <p> + To my amaze, out dropp’d something that jingled on the stone floor. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a small file: and examining the loaf again, I found a clasp-knife + also, and a strip of paper, neatly folded, hidden in the bread. + </p> + <p> + “Deare Jack, + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Essex, finding no good come of his interrogatories, hath set me + at large; tho’ I continue under his eye, to wit, with a dowager of his + acquaintance, a Mistress Finch. Wee dwell in a private house midway down + St. Thomas his street, in Redcliffe: and she hath put a dismal dress upon + me (Jack, ’tis <i>hideous</i>), but otherwise uses me not ill. But take + care of thyself, my deare friend: for tho’ the Colonel be a gentilman, he + is press’d by them about him, and at our last interview I noted a mischief + in his eye. Canst use this file?—(but take care: all the gates I saw + guarded with troopers to-day.) This by one who hath been my friend: for + whose sake tear the paper up. And beleeve your cordial, loving comrade + </p> + <h3> + “D. K.” + </h3> + <p> + After reading this a dozen times, till I had it by heart, I tore the + letter into small pieces and hid them in my pocket. This done, I felt + lighter-hearted than for many a day, and (rather for employment than with + any farther view) began lazily to rub away at my window bar. The file + work’d well. By noon the bar was half sever’d, and I broke off to whistle + a tune. ’Twas— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Vivre en tout cas, + C’est le grand soulas—” + </div> + <p> + and I broke off to hear the key turning in my lock. + </p> + <p> + The jailer’s daughter enter’d with my second meal. Her eyes were red with + weeping. + </p> + <p> + Said I, “Does your father beat you?” + </p> + <p> + “He has, before now,” she replied: “but not to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why do you weep?” + </p> + <p> + “Not for that.” + </p> + <p> + “For what then?” + </p> + <p> + “For you—oh, dear, dear! How shall I tell it? They are going to—to—” + She sat down on the chair, and sobb’d in her apron. + </p> + <p> + “What is’t they are going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “To—to—h-hang you.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil! When?” + </p> + <p> + “Tut-tut-to-morrow mo-horning!” + </p> + <p> + I went suddenly very cold all over. There was silence for a moment, and + then I heard the noise of some one dropping a plank in the courtyard + below. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “The gug-gug—” + </p> + <p> + “Gallows?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You are but a weak girl,” said I, meditating. + </p> + <p> + “Aye: but there’s a dozen troopers on the landing below.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, my dear, you must lock me up,” I decided gloomily, and fell to + whistling—— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “Vivre en tout cas, + C’est le grand soulas—” + </div> + <p> + A workman’s hammer in the court below chim’d in, beating out the tune, and + driving the moral home. I heard a low sob behind me. The jailer’s daughter + was going. + </p> + <p> + “Lend me your bodkin, my dear, for a memento.” + </p> + <p> + She pull’d it out and gave it to me. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, and now good-bye! Stop: here’s a kiss to take to my dear + mistress. They shan’t hang me, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + The girl went out, sobbing, and lock’d the door after her. + </p> + <p> + I sat down for a while, feeling doleful. For I found myself extremely + young to be hang’d. But soon the <i>whang—whang!</i> of the hammer + below rous’d me. “Come,” I thought, “I’ll see what that rascal is doing, + at any rate,” and pulling the file from my pocket, began to attack the + window bar with a will. I had no need for silence, at this great height + above the ground: and besides, the hammering continued lustily. + </p> + <p> + Daylight was closing as I finish’d my task and, pulling the two pieces of + the bar aside, thrust my head out at the window. + </p> + <p> + Directly under me, and about twenty feet from the ground, I saw a beam + projecting, about six feet long, over a sort of doorway in the wall. Under + this beam, on a ladder, was a carpenter fellow at work, fortifying it with + two supporting timbers that rested on the sill of the doorway. He was + merry enough over the job, and paused every now and again to fling a + remark to a little group of soldiers that stood idling below, where the + fellow’s workbag and a great coil of rope rested by the ladder’s foot. + </p> + <p> + “Reckon, Sammy,” said one, pulling a long tobacco pipe from his mouth and + spitting, “’tis a long while since thy last job o’ the sort.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, lad: terrible disrepair this place has fall’n into. But send us a + cheerful heart, say I! Instead o’ the viper an’ owl, shall henceforward be + hangings of men an’ all manner o’ diversion.” + </p> + <p> + I kept my head out of sight and listen’d. + </p> + <p> + “What time doth ’a swing?” ask’d another of the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + “I heard the Colonel give orders for nine o’clock to-morrow,” answer’d the + first soldier, spitting again. + </p> + <p> + The clock over the barbican struck four: and in a minute was being + answer’d from tower after tower, down in the city. + </p> + <p> + “Four o’clock!” cried the man on the ladder: “time to stop work, and here + goes for the last nail!” He drove it in and prepar’d to descend. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” shouted a soldier, “you’ve forgot the rope.” + </p> + <p> + “That’ll wait till to-morrow. There’s a staple to drive in, too. I tell + you I’m dry, and want my beer.” + </p> + <p> + He whipp’d his apron round his waist, and gathering up his nails, went + down the ladder. At the foot he pick’d up his bag, shoulder’d the ladder, + and loung’d away, leaving the coil of rope lying there. Presently the + soldiers saunter’d off also, and the court was empty. + </p> + <p> + Now up to this moment I had but one idea of avoiding my fate, and that was + to kill myself. ’Twas to this end I had borrow’d the bodkin of the maid. + Afterward I had a notion of flinging myself from the window as they came + for me. But now, as I look’d down on that coil of rope lying directly + below, a prettier scheme struck me. I sat down on the floor of my cell and + pull’d off my boots and stockings. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas such a pretty plan that I got into a fever of impatience. Drawing + off a stocking and picking out the end of the yarn, I began to unravel the + knitting for dear life, until the whole lay, a heap of thread, on the + floor. I then serv’d the other in the same way: and at the end had two + lines, each pretty near four hundred yards in length: which now I divided + into eight lines of about a hundred yards each. + </p> + <p> + With these I set to work, and by the end of twenty minutes had plaited a + rope—if rope, indeed, it could be called—weak to be sure, but + long enough to reach the ground with plenty to spare. Then, having bent my + bodkin to the form of a hook, I tied it to the end of my cord, weighted it + with a crown from my pocket, and clamber’d up to the window. I was going + to angle for the hangman’s rope. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas near dark by this; but I could just distinguish it on the paving + stones below, and looking about the court, saw that no one was astir. I + wriggled first my head, then a shoulder, through the opening, and let the + line run gently through my hand. There was still many yards left, that + could be paid out, when I heard my coin tinkle softly on the pavement. + </p> + <p> + Then began my difficulty. A dozen times I pull’d my hook across the coil + before it hitch’d; and then a full three score of times the rope slipped + away before I had rais’d it a dozen yards. My elbow was raw, almost, with + leaning on the sill, and I began to lose heart and head, when, to my + delight, the bodkin caught and held. It had fasten’d on a kink in the + rope, not far from the end. I began to pull up, hand over hand, trembling + all the while like a leaf. + </p> + <p> + For I had two very reasonable fears. First, the rope might slip away and + tumble before it reach’d my grasp. Secondly, it might, after all, prove a + deal too short. It had look’d to me a new rope of many fathoms, not yet + cut for to-morrow’s purpose; but eyesight might well deceive at that + distance, and surely enough I saw that the whole was dangling off the + ground long before it came to my hand. + </p> + <p> + But at last I caught it, and slipping back into the room, pull’d it after + me, yard upon yard. My heart went loud and fast. There was nothing to + fasten it to but an iron staple in the door, that meant losing the width + of my cell, some six feet. This, however, must be risk’d, and I made the + end fast, lower’d the other out of window again, and climbing to a sitting + posture on the window sill, thrust out my legs over the gulf. + </p> + <p> + Thankful was I that darkness had fallen before this, and hidden the giddy + depths below me. I gripp’d the rope and push’d myself inch by inch through + the window, and out over the ledge. For a moment I dangled, without + courage to move a hand. Then, wreathing my legs round the rope, I loosed + my left hand, and caught with it again some six inches lower. And so, down + I went. + </p> + <p> + Minute follow’d minute, and left me still descending, six inches at a + time, and looking neither above nor below, but always at the grey wall + that seem’d sliding up in front of me. The first dizziness was over, but a + horrible aching of the arms had taken the place of it. ’Twas growing + intolerable, when suddenly my legs, that sought to close round the rope, + found space only. I had come to the end. + </p> + <p> + I look’d down. A yard below my feet the beam of the gallows gleam’d palely + out of the darkness. Here was my chance. I let my hands slip down the last + foot or so of rope, hung for a moment, then dropp’d for the beam. + </p> + <p> + My feet miss’d it, as I intended they should; but I flung both arms out + and caught it, bringing myself up with a jerk. While yet I hung clawing, I + heard a footstep coming through the gateway between the two wards. + </p> + <p> + Here was a fix. With all speed and silence I drew myself up to the beam, + found a hold with one knee upon it, got astride, and lay down at length, + flattening my body down against the timber. Yet all the while I felt sure + I must have been heard. + </p> + <p> + The footsteps drew nearer, and pass’d almost under the gallows. ’Twas an + officer, for, as he pass’d, he called out— + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant Downs! Sergeant Downs!” + </p> + <p> + A voice from the guardroom in the barbican answer’d him through the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Why is not the watch set?” + </p> + <p> + “In a minute, sir: it wants a minute to six.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought the Colonel order’d it at half past five?” + </p> + <p> + In the silence that follow’d, the barbican clock began to strike, and half + a dozen troopers tumbled out from the guardroom, some laughing, some + grumbling at the coldness of the night. The officer return’d to the inner + ward as they dispersed to their posts: and soon there was silence again, + save for the <i>tramp-tramp</i> of a sentry crossing and recrossing the + pavement below me. + </p> + <p> + All this while I lay flatten’d along the beam, scarce daring to breathe. + But at length, when the man had pass’d below for the sixth time, I found + heart to wriggle myself toward the doorway over which the gallows + protruded. By slow degrees, and pausing whenever the fellow drew near, I + crept close up to the wall: then, waiting the proper moment, cast my legs + over, dangled for a second or two swinging myself toward the sill, flung + myself off, and, touching the ledge with one toe, pitch’d forward in the + room. + </p> + <p> + The effect of this was to give me a sound crack as I struck the flooring, + which lay about a foot below the level of the sill. I pick’d myself up and + listen’d. Outside, the regular tramp of the sentry prov’d he had not heard + me; and I drew a long breath, for I knew that without a lantern he would + never spy, in the darkness, the telltale rope dangling from the tower. + </p> + <p> + In the room where I stood all was right. But the flooring was uneven to + the foot, and scatter’d with small pieces of masonry. ’Twas one of the + many chambers in the castle that had dropp’d into disrepair. Groping my + way with both hands, and barking my shins on the loose stones, I found a + low vaulted passage that led me into a second chamber, empty as the first. + To my delight, the door of this was ajar, with a glimmer of light slanting + through the crack. I made straight toward it, and pull’d the door softly. + It open’d, and show’d a lantern dimly burning, and the staircase of the + keep winding past me, up into darkness. + </p> + <p> + My chance was, of course, to descend: which I did on tiptoe, hearing no + sound. The stairs twisted down and down, and ended by a stout door with + another lamp shining above it. After listening a moment I decided to be + bold, and lifted the latch. A faint cry saluted me. + </p> + <p> + I stood face to face with the jailer’s daughter. + </p> + <p> + The room was a small one, well lit, and lin’d about the walls with cups + and bottles. ’Twas, as I guess’d, a taproom for the soldiers: and the girl + had been scouring one of the pewter mugs when my entrance startled her. + She stood up, white as if painted, and gasp’d— + </p> + <p> + “Quick—quick! Down here behind the counter for your life!” + </p> + <p> + There was scarce time to drop on my knees before a couple of troopers + loung’d in, demanding mull’d beer. The girl bustled about to serve them, + while the pair lean’d their elbows on the counter, and in this easy + attitude began to chat. + </p> + <p> + “A shrewd night!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, a very freezing frost! Lucky that soldiering is not all sentry work, + or I for one ‘ud ensue my natural trade o’ plumbing. But let’s be + cheerful: for the voice o’ the turtle is heard i’ the land.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” + </p> + <p> + The man took a pull at his hot beer before explaining. + </p> + <p> + “The turtle signifieth the Earl o’ Stamford, that is to-night visiting + Colonel Essex in secret: an’ this is the import—war, bloody war. + Mark me.” + </p> + <p> + “Stirring, striving times!” + </p> + <p> + “You may say so! ’A hath fifteen thousand men, the Earl, no farther off + than Taunton—why, my dear, how pale you look, to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “’Tis my head that aches,” answer’d the girl. + </p> + <p> + The men finish’d their drink, and saunter’d out. I crept from under the + counter, and look’d at her. + </p> + <p> + “Father’ll kill me for this!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you shall say—Is it forward or back I must go?” + </p> + <p> + “Neither.” She pull’d up a trap close beside her feet, and pointed out a + ladder leading down to the darkness. “The courts are full of troopers,” + she added. + </p> + <p> + “The cellar?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! There’s a door at the far end. It leads to the crypt of St. John’s + Chapel. You’ll find the key beside it, and a lantern. Here is flint and + steel.” She reach’d them down from a shelf beside her. “Crouch down, or + they’ll spy you through the window. From the crypt a passage takes you to + the governor’s house. How to escape then, God knows! ’Tis the best I can + think on.” + </p> + <p> + I thank’d her, and began to step down the ladder. She stood for a moment + to watch, leaving the trap open for better light. Between the avenue of + casks and bins I stumbled toward the door and lantern that were just to be + discern’d at the far end of the cellar. As I struck steel on flint, I + heard the trap close: and since then have never set eyes on that + kind-hearted girl. + </p> + <p> + The lantern lit, I took the key and fitted it to the lock. It turned + noisily, and a cold whiff of air struck my face. Gazing round this new + chamber, I saw two lines of squat pillars, supporting a low arch’d roof. + ’Twas the crypt beneath the chapel, and smelt vilely. A green moisture + trickled down the pillars, and dripp’d on the tombs beneath them. + </p> + <p> + At the end of this dreary place was a broken door, consisting only of a + plank or two, that I easily pull’d away: and beyond, a narrow passage, + over which I heard the tread of troopers plainly, as they pac’d to and + fro; also the muffled note of the clock, sounding seven. + </p> + <p> + The passage went fairly straight, but was block’d here and there with + fallen stones, over which I scrambled as best I could. And then, suddenly + I was near pitching down a short flight of steps. I held the lantern aloft + and look’d. + </p> + <p> + At the steps’ foot widen’d out a low room, whereof the ceiling, like that + of the crypt, rested on pillars. Between these, every inch of space was + pil’d with barrels, chests, and great pyramids of round shot. In each + corner lay a heap of rusty pikes. Of all this the signification was clear. + I stood in the munition room of the Castle. + </p> + <p> + But what chiefly took my notice was a great door, studded with iron nails, + that barr’d all exit from the place. Over the barrels I crept toward it, + keeping the lantern high, in dread of firing any loose powder. ’Twas fast + lock’d. + </p> + <p> + I think that, for a moment or two, I could have wept. But in a while the + thought struck me that with the knife in my pocket ’twas possible to cut + away the wood around the lock. “Courage!” said I: and pulling it forth, + knelt down to work. + </p> + <p> + Luck in life has always used me better than my deserts. At an hour’s end + there I was, hacking away steadily, yet had made but little progress. And + then, pressing the knife deep, I broke the blade off short. The door upon + the far side was cas’d with iron. + </p> + <p> + <i>Tramp—tramp!</i> + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the sound of man’s footfall, and to the ear appear’d to be + descending a flight of steps on the other side of the door. I bent my ear + to the keyhole: then stepp’d to a cask of bullets that stood handy by. I + took out a dozen, felt in my pocket for Delia’s kerchief that she had + given me, caught up a pike from the pile stack’d in the corner, and softly + blowing out my light, stood back to be conceal’d by the door, when it + open’d. + </p> + <p> + The footsteps still descended. I heard an aged voice muttering— + </p> + <p> + “Shrivel my bones—ugh!—ugh! Wintry work—wintry work! + Here’s an hour to send a grandfatherly man a-groping for a keg o’ powder!” + </p> + <p> + A wheezy cough clos’d the sentence, as a key was with difficulty fitted in + the lock. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh—ugh! Sure, the lock an’ I be a pair, for stiff joints.” + </p> + <p> + The door creak’d back against me, and a shaft of light pierc’d the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + Within the threshold, with his back to me, stood a grey-bearded servant, + and totter’d so that the lantern shook in his hand. It sham’d me to lift a + pike against one so weak. Instead, I dropp’d it with a clatter, and leap’d + forward. The old fellow jumped like a boy, turn’d, and fac’d me with + dropp’d jaw, which gave me an opportunity to thrust four or five bullets, + not over roughly, into his mouth. Then, having turn’d him on his back, I + strapp’d Delia’s kerchief tight across his mouth, and took the lantern + from his hand. + </p> + <p> + Not a word was said. Sure, the poor old man’s wits were shaken, for he lay + meek as a mouse, and star’d up at me, while I unstrapp’d his belt and + bound his feet with it. His hands I truss’d up behind him with his own + neckcloth; and catching up the lantern, left him there. I lock’d the door + after me, and slip’d the key into my pocket as I sprang up the stairs + beyond. + </p> + <p> + But here a light was shining, so once more I extinguish’d my lantern. The + steps ended in a long passage, with a handsome lamp hanging at the + uttermost end, and beneath this lamp I stepp’d into a place that fill’d me + with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas, I could not doubt, the entrance hall of the governor’s house. An + oak door, very massive, fronted me; to left and right were two smaller + doors, that plainly led into apartments of the house. Also to my left, and + nigher than the door on that side, ran up a broad staircase, carpeted and + brightly lit all the way, so that a very blaze fell on me as I stood. + Under the first flight, close to my left shoulder, was a line of pegs with + many cloaks and hats depending therefrom. Underfoot, I remember, the hall + was richly tiled in squares of red and white marble. + </p> + <p> + Now clearly, this was a certain place wherein to be caught. “But,” thought + I, “behind one of the two doors, to left or to right, must lie the + governor’s room of business; and in that room—as likely as not—his + keys.” Which door, then, should I choose? For to stay here was madness. + </p> + <p> + While I stood pondering, the doubt was answer’d for me. From behind the + right-hand door came a burst of laughter and clinking of glasses, on top + of which a man’s voice—the voice of Colonel Essex—call’d out + for more wine. + </p> + <p> + I took a step to the door on the left, paus’d for a second or two with my + hand on the latch, and then cautiously push’d it open. The chamber was + empty. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a long room, with a light burning on a square centre table, and + around it a mass of books, loose papers and documents strewn, seemingly + without order. The floor too was litter’d with them. Clearly this was the + Colonel’s office. + </p> + <p> + I gave a rapid glance around. The lamp’s rays scarce illumin’d the far + corners; but in one of these stood a great leathern screen, and over the + fireplace near it a rack was hanging, full of swords, pistols, and walking + canes. Stepping toward it I caught sight of Anthony’s sword, suspended + there amongst the rest (they had taken it from me on the day of my + examination); which now I took down and strapp’d at my side. I then chose + out a pistol or two, slipped them into my sash, and advanced to the centre + table. + </p> + <p> + Under the lamplight lay His Majesty’s letter, open. + </p> + <p> + My hand was stretch’d out to catch it up, when I heard across the hall a + door open’d, and the sound of men’s voices. They were coming toward the + office. + </p> + <p> + There was scarce time to slip back, and hide behind the screen, before the + door latch was lifted, and two men enter’d, laughing yet. + </p> + <p> + “Business, my lord—business,” said the first (’twas Colonel Essex): + “I have much to do to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” the other answer’d, “I thought we had settled it. You are to lend + me a thousand out of your garrison—” + </p> + <p> + “Which, on my own part, I would willingly do. Only I beg you to consider, + my lord, that my position here hangs on a thread. The extreme men are + already against me: they talk of replacing me by Fiennes—” + </p> + <p> + “Nat Fiennes is no soldier.” + </p> + <p> + “No: but he’s a bigot—a stronger recommendation. Should this plan + miscarry, and I lose a thousand men—” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens alive, man! It <i>cannot</i> miscarry. Hark ye: there’s Ruthen of + Plymouth will take the south road with all his forces. A day’s march + behind I shall follow—along roads to northward—parallel for a + way, but afterward converging. The Cornishmen are all in Bodmin. We shall + come on them with double their number, aye, almost treble. Can you doubt + the issue?” + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely, with the Earl of Stamford for General.” + </p> + <p> + The Earl was too far occupied to notice this compliment. + </p> + <p> + “’Twill be swift and secret,” he said, “as Death himself—and as + sure. Let be the fact that Hopton is all at sixes and sevens since the + Marquis shipp’d for Wales: and at daggers drawn with Mohun.” + </p> + <p> + Said the Colonel slowly—“Aye, the notion is good enough. Were I not + in this corner, I would not think twice. Listen now: only this morning + they forc’d me to order a young man’s hanging, who might if kept alive be + forc’d in time to give us news of value. I dar’d not refuse.” + </p> + <p> + “He that you caught with the King’s letter?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—a trumpery missive, dealing with naught but summoning of the + sheriff’s posse and the like. There is more behind, could we but wait to + get at it.” + </p> + <p> + “The gallows may loosen his tongue. And how of the girl that was taken + too?” + </p> + <p> + “I have her in safe keeping. This very evening I shall visit her, and make + another trial to get some speech. Which puts me in mind—” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel tinkled a small hand bell that lay on the table. + </p> + <p> + The pause that followed was broken by the Earl. + </p> + <p> + “May I see the letter?” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel handed it, and tinkled the bell again, more impatiently. At + length steps were heard in the hall, and a servant open’d the door. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Giles?” ask’d the Colonel. “Why are you taking his place?” + </p> + <p> + “Giles can’t be found, your honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a queer oldster, your honor, an’ maybe gone to bed wi’ his aches and + pains.” + </p> + <p> + (I knew pretty well that Giles had done no such thing: but be sure I kept + the knowledge safe behind my screen.) + </p> + <p> + “Then go seek him, and say—No, stop: I can’t wait. Order the coach + around at the barbican in twenty minutes from now—twenty minutes, + mind, without fail. And say—’twill save time—the fellow’s to + drive me to Mistress Finch’s house in St. Thomas’ Street—sharp!” + </p> + <p> + As the man departed on his errand, the Earl laid down His Majesty’s + letter. + </p> + <p> + “Hang the fellow,” he said, “if they want it: the blame, if any, will be + theirs. But, in the name of Heaven, Colonel, don’t fail in lending me this + thousand men! ’Twill finish the war out of hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll do it,” answered the Colonel slowly. + </p> + <p> + “And I’ll remember it,” said the Earl. “To-morrow, at six o’clock, I set + out.” + </p> + <p> + The two men shook hands on their bargain and left the room, shutting the + door after them. + </p> + <p> + I crept forth from behind the screen, my heart thumping on my ribs. Thus + far it had been all fear and trembling with me; but now this was chang’d + to a kind of panting joy. ’Twas not that I had spied the prison keys + hanging near the fireplace, nor that behind the screen lay a heap of the + Colonel’s riding boots, whereof a pair, ready spurr’d, fitted me choicely + well; but that my ears tingled with news that turn’d my escape to a matter + of public welfare: and also that the way to escape lay plann’d in my head. + </p> + <p> + Shod in the Colonel’s boots, I advanc’d again to the table. With + sealing-wax and the Governor’s seal, that lay handy, I clos’d up the + King’s letter, and sticking it in my breast, caught down the bunch of keys + and made for the door. + </p> + <p> + The hall was void. I snatch’d down a cloak and heavy broad-brimm’d hat + from one of the pegs, and donning them, slipp’d back the bolts of the + heavy door. It opened without noise. Then, with a last hitch of the cloak, + to bring it well about me, I stepp’d forth into the night, shutting the + door quietly on my heels. + </p> + <p> + My feet were on the pavement of the inner ward. Above, one star only broke + the blackness of the night. Across the court was a sentry tramping. As I + walk’d boldly up, he stopped short by the gate between the wards and + regarded me. + </p> + <p> + Now was my danger. I knew not the right key for the wicket: and if I + fumbled, the fellow would detect me for certain. I chose one and drew + nearer; the fellow look’d, saluted, stepp’d to the wicket, and open’d it + himself. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Colonel!” + </p> + <p> + I did not trust myself to answer: but passed rapidly through to the outer + ward. Here, to my joy, in the arch’d passage of the barbican gate, was the + carriage waiting, the porter standing beside the door; and here also, to + my dismay, was a torch alight, and under it half a dozen soldiers + chatting. A whisper pass’d on my approach— + </p> + <p> + “The Colonel!” and they hurried into the guardroom. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Colonel!” The porter bow’d low, holding the door wide. + </p> + <p> + I pass’d him rapidly, climb’d into the shadow of the coach, and drew a + long breath. + </p> + <p> + Then ensued a hateful pause, as the great gates were unbarr’d. I gripp’d + my knees for impatience. + </p> + <p> + The driver spoke a word to the porter, who came round to the coach door + again. + </p> + <p> + “To Mistress Finch’s, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” I muttered; “and quickly.” + </p> + <p> + The coachman touched up his pair. The wheels mov’d; went quicker. We were + outside the Castle. + </p> + <p> + With what relief I lean’d back as the Castle gates clos’d behind us! And + with what impatience at our slow pace I sat upright again next minute! The + wheels rumbled over the bridge, and immediately we were rolling easily + down hill, through a street of some importance: but by this time the + shutters were up along the shop fronts and very few people abroad. At the + bottom we turn’d sharp to the left along a broader thoroughfare: and then + suddenly drew up. + </p> + <p> + “Are we come?” I wonder’d. But no: ’twas the city gate, and here we had to + wait for three minutes at least, till the sentries recogniz’d the + Colonel’s coach and open’d the doors to us. They stood on this side and + that, presenting arms, as we rattled through; and next moment I was + crossing a broad bridge, with the dark Avon on either side of me, and the + vessels thick thereon, their lanterns casting long lines of yellow on the + jetty water, their masts and cordage looming up against the dull glare of + the city. + </p> + <p> + Soon we were between lines of building once more, shops, private dwellings + and warehouses intermix’d; then pass’d a tall church; and in about two + minutes more drew up again. I look’d out. + </p> + <p> + Facing me was a narrow gateway leading to a house that stood somewhat back + from the street, as if slipping away from between the lines of shops that + wedg’d it in on either hand. Over the grill a link was burning. I stepp’d + from the coach, open’d the gate, and crossing the small court, rang at the + house bell. + </p> + <p> + At first there was no answer. I rang again: and now had the satisfaction + to hear a light footfall coming. A bolt was pull’d and a girl appear’d + holding a candle high in her hand. Quick as thought, I stepped past her + into the passage. + </p> + <p> + “Delia!” + </p> + <p> + “Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “Hist! Close the door. Where is Mistress Finch?” + </p> + <p> + “Upstairs, expecting Colonel Essex. Oh, the happy day! Come—” she + led me into a narrow back room and setting down the light regarded me—“Jack, + my eyes are red for thee!” + </p> + <p> + “I see they are. To-morrow I was to be hang’d.” + </p> + <p> + She put her hands together, catching her breath: and very lovely I thought + her, in her straight grey gown and Puritan cap. + </p> + <p> + “They have been questioning me. Didst get my letter?” + </p> + <p> + The answer was on my lip when there came a sound that made us both start. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the dull echo of a gun firing, up at the Castle. + </p> + <p> + “Delia, what lies at the back here?” + </p> + <p> + “A garden and a garden door: after these a lane leading to Redcliff + Street.” + </p> + <p> + “I must go, this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “And I?” + </p> + <p> + She did not wait my answer, but running out into the passage, she came + swiftly back with a heavy key. I open’d the window. + </p> + <p> + “Delia! De-lia!” ’Twas a woman’s voice calling her, at the head of the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, Mistress Finch.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was that at the door?” + </p> + <p> + I sprang into the garden and held forth a hand to Delia. “In one moment, + mistress!” call’d she, and in one moment was hurrying with me across the + dark garden beds. As she fitted the key to the garden gate, I heard the + voice again. + </p> + <p> + “De-lia!” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas drown’d in a—wild <i>rat-a-tat!</i> on the street door, and + the shouts of many voices. We were close press’d. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Jack—to the right for our lives! Ah, these clumsy skirts!” + </p> + <p> + We turn’d into the lane and rac’d down it. For my part, I swore to drown + myself in Avon rather than let those troopers retake me. I heard their + outcries about the house behind us, as we stumbled over the frozen rubbish + heaps with which the lane was bestrewn. + </p> + <p> + “What’s our direction?” panted I, catching Delia’s hand to help her along. + </p> + <p> + “To the left now—for the river.” + </p> + <p> + We struck into a narrow side street; and with that heard a watchman bawl— + </p> + <p> + “<i>Past nine o’ the night, an’ a—!</i>” + </p> + <p> + The shock of our collision sent him to finish his say in the gutter. + </p> + <p> + “Thieves!” he yell’d. + </p> + <p> + But already we were twenty yards away, and now in a broader street, + whereof one side was wholly lin’d with warehouses. And here, to our + dismay, we heard shouts behind, and the noise of feet running. + </p> + <p> + About halfway down the street I spied a gateway standing ajar, and pull’d + Delia aside, into a courtyard litter’d with barrels and timbers, and + across it to a black empty barn of a place, where a flight of wooden steps + glimmer’d, that led to an upper story. We climb’d these stairs at a run. + </p> + <p> + “Faugh! What a vile smell!” + </p> + <p> + The loft was pil’d high with great bales of wool, as I found by the touch, + and their odor enough to satisfy an army. Nevertheless, I was groping + about for a place to hide, when Delia touch’d me by the arm, and pointed. + </p> + <p> + Looking, I descried in the gloom a tall quadrilateral of purple, not five + steps away, with a speck of light shining near the top of it, and three + dark streaks running down the middle, whereof one was much thicker than + the rest. ’Twas an open doorway; the speck, a star fram’d within it; the + broad streak, a ship’s mast reaching up; and the lesser ones two ends of a + rope, working over a pulley above my head, and used for lowering the bales + of wool on shipboard. + </p> + <p> + Advancing, I stood on the sill and look’d down. On the black water, twenty + feet below, lay a three-masted trader, close against the warehouse. My + toes stuck out over her deck, almost. + </p> + <p> + At first glance I could see no sign of life on board: but presently was + aware of a dark figure leaning over the bulwarks, near the bows. He was + quite motionless. His back was toward us, blotted against the black + shadow; and the man engag’d only, it seem’d, in watching the bright splash + of light flung by the ship’s lantern on the water beneath him. + </p> + <p> + I resolv’d to throw myself on the mercy of this silent figure; and put out + a hand to test the rope. One end of it was fix’d to a bale of wool that + lay, as it had been lower’d, on the deck. Flinging myself on the other, I + found it sink gently from the pulley, as the weight below moved slowly + upward: and sinking with it, I held on till my feet touch’d the deck. + </p> + <p> + Still the figure in the bows was motionless. + </p> + <p> + I paid out my end of the rope softly, lowering back the bale of wool: and, + as soon as it rested again on deck, signalled to Delia to let herself + down. + </p> + <p> + She did so. As she alighted, and stood beside me, our hands bungled. The + rope slipp’d up quickly, letting down the bale with a run. + </p> + <p> + We caught at the rope, and stopp’d it just in time: but the pulley above + creak’d vociferously. I turn’d my head. + </p> + <p> + The man in the bows had not mov’d. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER X. — CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE. + </h2></div> + <p> + “Now either I am mad or dreaming,” thought I: for that the fellow had not + heard our noise was to me starkly incredible. I stepp’d along the deck + toward him: not an inch did he budge. I touch’d him on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + He fac’d round with a quick start. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said I, quick and low, before he could get a word out—“Sir, + we are in your hands. I will be plain. To-night I have broke out of + Bristol Keep, and the Colonel’s men are after me. Give me up to them, and + they hang me to-morrow: give my comrade up, and they persecute her vilely. + Now, sir, I know not which side you be, but there’s our case in a + nutshell.” + </p> + <p> + The man bent forward, displaying a huge, rounded face, very kindly about + the eyes, and set atop of the oddest body in the world: for under a trunk + extraordinary broad and strong, straddled a pair of legs that a baby + would have disown’d—so thin and stunted were they, and (to make it + the queerer) ended in feet the most prodigious you ever saw. + </p> + <p> + As I said, this man lean’d forward, and shouted into my ear so that I + fairly leap’d in the air— + </p> + <p> + “My name’s Pottery—Bill Pottery, cap’n o’ the <i>Godsend</i>—an’ + you can’t make me hear, not if you bust yoursel’!” + </p> + <p> + You may think this put me in a fine quandary. + </p> + <p> + “I be deaf as nails!” bawl’d he. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas horrible: for the troopers (I thought) if anywhere near, could not + miss hearing him. His voice shook the very rigging. + </p> + <p> + “... An’ o’ my crew the half ashore gettin’ drunk, an’ the half below in a + very accomplished state o’ liquor: so there’s no chance for ’ee to speak!” + </p> + <p> + He paus’d a moment, then roared again— + </p> + <p> + “What a pity! ’Cos you make me very curious—that you do!” + </p> + <p> + Luckily, at this moment, Delia had the sense to put a finger to her lip. + The man wheel’d round without another word, led us aft over the blocks, + cordage, and all manner of loose gear that encumber’d the deck, to a + ladder that, toward the stern, led down into darkness. Here he sign’d to + us to follow; and, descending first, threw open a door, letting out a + faint stream of light in our faces. ’Twas the captain’s cabin, lin’d with + cupboards and lockers: and the light came from an oil lamp hanging over a + narrow deal table. By this light Captain Billy scrutiniz’d us for an + instant: then, from one of his lockers, brought out pen, paper, and ink, + and set them on the table before me. + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: “Master Pottery shaking us both by the hand.”] + </p> + <p> + I caught up the pen, dipp’d it, and began to write— + </p> + <p> + “I am John Marvel, a servant of King Charles; and this night am escap’d + out of Bristol Castle. If you be—” + </p> + <p> + Thus far I had written without glancing up, in fear to read the + disappointment of my hopes. But now the pen was caught suddenly from my + fingers, the paper torn in shreds, and there was Master Pottery shaking us + both by the hand, nodding and becking, and smiling the while all over his + big red face. + </p> + <p> + But he ceas’d at last: and opening another of his lockers, drew forth a + horn lantern, a mallet, and a chisel. Not a word was spoken as he lit the + lantern and pass’d out of the cabin, Delia and I following at his heels. + </p> + <p> + Just outside, at the foot of the steps, he stoop’d, pull’d up a trap in + the flooring, and disclos’d another ladder stretching, as it seem’d, down + into the bowels of the ship. This we descended carefully; and found + ourselves in the hold, pinching our noses ’twixt finger and thumb. + </p> + <p> + For indeed the smell here was searching to a very painful degree: for the + room was narrow, and every inch of it contested by two puissant essences, + the one of raw wood, the other of bilge water. With wool the place was + pil’d: but also I notic’d, not far from the ladder, several casks set on + their ends; and to these the captain led us. + </p> + <p> + They were about a dozen in all, stacked close together: and Master + Pottery, rolling two apart from the rest, dragg’d them to another trap and + tugg’d out the bungs. A stream of fresh water gush’d from each and + splash’d down the trap into the bilge below. Then, having drained them, he + stay’d in their heads with a few blows of his mallet. + </p> + <p> + His plan for us was clear. And in a very few minutes Delia and I were + crouching on the timbers, each with a cask inverted over us, our noses at + the bungholes and our ears listening to Master Pottery’s footsteps as they + climb’d heavily back to deck. The rest of the casks were stack’d close + round us, so that even had the gloom allow’d, we could see nothing at all. + </p> + <p> + “Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “Delia!” + </p> + <p> + “Dost feel heroical at all?” + </p> + <p> + “Not one whit. There’s a trickle of water running down my back, to begin + with.” + </p> + <p> + “And my nose it itches; and oh, what a hateful smell! Say something to me, + Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said I, “there is one thing I’ve been longing these weeks to + say: but this seems an odd place for it.” + </p> + <p> + “What is’t?” + </p> + <p> + I purs’d up my lips to the bunghole, and— + </p> + <p> + “I love you,” said I. There was silence for a moment: and then, + within Delia’s cask, the sound of muffled laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Delia,” I urg’d, “I mean it, upon my oath. Wilt marry me, sweetheart?” + </p> + <p> + “Must get out of this cask first. Oh, Jack, what a dear goose thou art!” + And the laughter began again. + </p> + <p> + I was going to answer, when I heard a loud shouting overhead. ’Twas the + sound of someone hailing the ship, and thought I, “the troopers are on + us!” + </p> + <p> + They were, in truth. Soon I heard the noise of feet above and a string of + voices speaking one after another, louder and louder. And next Master + Pottery began to answer up and drown’d all speech but his own. When he + ceas’d, there was silence for some minutes: after which we heard a party + descend to the cabin, and the trampling of their feet on the boards above + us. They remain’d there some while discussing: and then came footsteps + down the second ladder, and a twinkle of light reach’d me through the + bunghole of my cask. + </p> + <p> + “Quick!” said a husky voice; “overhaul the cargo here!” + </p> + <p> + I heard some half dozen troopers bustling about the hold and tugging out + the bales of wool. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” call’d Master Pottery: “an’ when you’ve done rummaging my ship, put + everything back as you found it.” + </p> + <p> + “Poke about with your swords,” commanded the husky voice. “What’s in those + barrels yonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Water, sergeant,” answers a trooper, rolling out a couple. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing behind them?” + </p> + <p> + “No; they’re right against the side.” + </p> + <p> + “Drop ’em then. Plague on this business! ’Tis my notion they’re a mile + a-way, and Cap’n Stubbs no better than a fool to send us back here. He’s + grudging promotion, that’s what he is! Hurry, there—hurry!” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later, the searchers were gone; and we in our casks drawing + long breaths of thankfulness and strong odors. And so we crouch’d till, + about midnight, Captain Billy brought us down a supper of ship’s biscuit: + which we crept forth to eat, being sorely cramp’d. + </p> + <p> + He could not hear our thanks: but guess’d them. + </p> + <p> + “Now say not a word! To-morrow we sail for Plymouth Sound: thence for + Brittany. Hist! We be all King’s men aboard the <i>Godsend</i>, tho’ + hearing nought I says little. Yet I have my reasoning heresies, holding + the Lord’s Anointed to be an anointed rogue, but nevertheless to be + serv’d: just as aboard the <i>Godsend</i> I be Cap’n Billy an’ you plain + Jack, be your virtues what they may. An’ the conclusion is—damn all + mutineers an’ rebels! Tho’, to be sure, the words be a bit lusty for a + young gentlewoman’s ears.” + </p> + <p> + We went back to our casks with lighter hearts. Howbeit ’twas near five in + the morning, I dare say, before my narrow bedchamber allow’d me to drop + asleep. + </p> + <p> + I woke to spy through my bunghole the faint light of day struggling down + the hatches. Above, I heard a clanking noise, and the voices of the men + hiccoughing a dismal chant. They were lifting anchor. I crawl’d forth and + woke Delia, who was yet sleeping: and together we ate the breakfast that + lay ready set for us on the head of a barrel. + </p> + <p> + Presently the sailors broke off their song, and we heard their feet + shuffling to and fro on deck. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” cried Delia, “we are moving!” + </p> + <p> + And surely we were, as could be told by the alter’d sound of the water + beneath us, and the many creakings that the <i>Godsend</i> began to keep. + Once more I tasted freedom again, and the joy of living, and could have + sung for the mirth that lifted my heart. “Let us but gain open sea,” said + I, “and I’ll have tit-for-tat with these rebels!” + </p> + <p> + But alas! before we had left Avon mouth twenty minutes, ’twas another + tale. For I lay on my side in that dark hold and long’d to die: and Delia + sat up beside me, her hands in her lap, and her great eyes fix’d most + dolefully. And when Captain Billy came down with news that we were safe + and free to go on deck, we turn’d our faces from him, and said we thank’d + him kindly, but had no longer any wish that way—too wretched, even, + to remember his deafness. + </p> + <p> + Let me avoid, then, some miserable hours, and come to the evening, when, + faint with fasting and nausea, we struggled up to the deck for air, and + look’d about us. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas grey—grey everywhere: the sky lead-colored, with deeper shades + toward the east, where a bank of cloud blotted the coast line: the thick + rain descending straight, with hardly wind enough to set the sails + flapping; the sea spread like a plate of lead, save only where, to + leeward, a streak of curded white crawled away from under the <i>Godsend’s</i> + keel. + </p> + <p> + On deck, a few sailors mov’d about, red eyed and heavy. They show’d no + surprise to see us, but nodded very friendly, with a smile for our strange + complexions. Here again, as ever, did adversity mock her own image. + </p> + <p> + But what more took our attention was to see a row of men stretch’d on the + starboard side, like corpses, their heads in the scuppers, their legs + pointed inboard, and very orderly arranged. They were a dozen and two in + all, and over them bent Captain Billy with a mop in his hand, and a bucket + by his side: who beckon’d that we should approach. + </p> + <p> + “Array’d in order o’ merit,” said he, pointing with his mop like a showman + to the line of figures before him. + </p> + <p> + We drew near. + </p> + <p> + “This here is Matt. Soames, master o’ this vessel—an’ he’s dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Dead-drunk, that is. O the gifted man! Come up!” He thrust the mop in the + fellow’s heavy face. “There now! Did he move, did he wink? ‘No,’ says you. + O an accomplished drunkard!” + </p> + <p> + He paus’d a moment; then stirr’d up No. 2, who open’d one eye lazily, and + shut it again in slumber. + </p> + <p> + “You saw? Open’d one eye, hey? That’s Benjamin Halliday. The next is a + black man, as you see: a man of dismal color, and hath other drawbacks + natural to such. Can the Aethiop shift his skin? No, but he’ll open both + eyes. See there—a perfect Christian, in so far as drink can make + him.” + </p> + <p> + With like comments he ran down the line till he came to the last man, in + front of whom he stepp’d back. + </p> + <p> + “About this last—he’s a puzzler. Times I put him top o’ the list, + an’ times at the tail. That’s Ned Masters, an’ was once the Reverend + Edward Masters, Bachelor o’ Divinity in Cambridge College; but in a tavern + there fell a-talking with a certain Pelagian about Adam an’ Eve, an’ + because the fellow turn’d stubborn, put a knife into his waistband, an’ + had to run away to sea: a middling drinker only, but after a quart or so + to hear him tackle Predestination! So there be times after all when I + sets’n apart, and says, ‘Drunk, you’m no good, but half-drunk, you’m + priceless.’ Now there’s a man—” He dropp’d his mop, and, leading us + aft, pointed with admiring finger to the helmsman—a thin, wizen’d + fellow, with a face like a crab apple, and a pair of piercing grey eyes + half hidden by the droop of his wrinkled lids. “Gabriel Hutchins, how old + be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Sixty-four, come next Martinmas,” pip’d the helmsman. + </p> + <p> + “In what state o’ life?” + </p> + <p> + “Drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “How drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “As a lord!” + </p> + <p> + “Canst stand upright?” + </p> + <p> + “Hee-hee! Now could I iver do other?—a miserable ould worms to whom + the sweet effects o’ quantums be denied. When was I iver wholesomely + maz’d? Or when did I lay my grey hairs on the floor, saying, ’Tis enough, + an’ ’tis good’? Answer me that, Cap’n Bill.” + </p> + <p> + “But you hopes for the best, Gabriel.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, I hopes—I hopes.” + </p> + <p> + The old man sigh’d as he brought the <i>Godsend</i> a point nearer the + wind; and, as we turn’d away with the Captain, was still muttering, his + sharp grey eyes fix’d on the vessel’s prow. + </p> + <p> + “He’s my best,” said Captain Billy Pottery. + </p> + <p> + With this crew we pass’d four days; and I write this much of them because + they afterward, when sober, did me a notable good turn, as you shall read + toward the end of this history. But lest you should judge them hardly, let + me say here that when they recovered of their stupor—as happen’d to + the worst after thirty-six hours—there was no brisker, handier set + of fellows on the seas. And this Captain Billy well understood: “but” + (said he) “I be a collector an’ a man o’ conscience both, which is + uncommon. Doubtless there be good sots that are not good seamen, but from + such I turn my face, drink they never so prettily.” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas necessary I should impart some notion of my errand to Captain Billy, + tho’ I confin’d myself to hints, telling him only ’twas urgent I should be + put ashore somewhere on the Cornish coast, for that I carried intelligence + which would not keep till we reached Plymouth, a town that, besides, was + held by the rebels. And he agreed readily to land me in Bude Bay: “and + also thy comrade, if (as I guess) she be so minded,” he added, glancing up + at Delia from the paper whereon I had written my request. + </p> + <p> + She had been silent of late, beyond her wont, avoiding (I thought) to meet + my eye: but answer’d simply, + </p> + <p> + “I go with Jack.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Billy, whose eyes rested on her as she spoke, beckon’d me, very + mysterious, outside the cabin, and winking slily, whisper’d loud enough to + stun one—— + </p> + <p> + “Ply her, Jack”—he had call’d me “Jack” from the first—“ply + her briskly! Womankind is but yielding flesh: ‘am an amorous man mysel’, + an’ speak but that I have prov’d.” + </p> + <p> + On this—for the whole ship could hear it—there certainly came + the sound of a stifled laugh from the other side of the cabin door: but it + did not mend my comrade’s shy humor, that lasted throughout the voyage. + </p> + <p> + To be brief, ’twas not till the fourth afternoon (by reason of baffling + head winds) that we stepped out of the <i>Godsend’s</i> boat upon a small + beach of shingle, whence, between a rift in the black cliffs, wound up the + road that was to lead us inland. The <i>Godsend</i>, as we turn’d to wave + our hands, lay at half a mile’s distance, and made a pretty sight: for the + day, that had begun with a white frost, was now turn’d sunny and still, so + that looking north we saw the sea all spread with pink and lilac and + hyacinth, and upon it the ship lit up, her masts and sails glowing like a + gold piece. And there was Billy, leaning over the bulwarks and waving his + trumpet for “Good-bye!” Thought I, for I little dream’d to see these good + fellows again, “what a witless game is this life! to seek ever in fresh + conjunctions what we leave behind in a hand shake.” ’Twas a cheap + reflection, yet it vex’d me that as we turn’d to mount the road Delia + should break out singing— + </p> + <p> + “Hey! nonni—nonni—no! Is’t not fine to laugh and sing When the + hells of death do ring!—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” said I, “I don’t think it”: and capp’d her verse with another— + </p> + <p> + “Silly man, the cost to find Is to leave as good behind—” + </p> + <p> + “Jack, for pity’s sake, stop!” She put her fingers to her ears. “What a + nasty, creaking voice thou hast, to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s as a man may hold,” said I, nettled. + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed: yours is a very poor voice, but mine is beautiful. So + listen.” + </p> + <p> + She went on to sing as she went, “Green as grass is my kirtle,” “Tire me + in tiffany,” “Come ye bearded men-at-arms,” and “The Bending Rush.” All + these she sang, as I must confess, most delicately well, and then fac’d + me, with a happy smile— + </p> + <p> + “Now, have not I a sweet voice? Why, Jack—art still glum?” + </p> + <p> + “Delia,” answer’d I, “you have first to give me a reply to what, four days + agone, I ask’d you. Dear girl—nay then, dear comrade—” + </p> + <p> + I broke off, for she had come to a stop, wringing her hands and looking in + my face most dolefully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear—oh, dear! Jack, we have had such merry times: and you are + spoiling all the fun!” + </p> + <p> + We follow’d the road after this very moodily; for Delia, whom I had made + sharer of the rebels’ secret, agreed that no time was to be lost in + reaching Bodmin, that lay a good thirty miles to the southwest. Night fell + and the young moon rose, with a brisk breeze at our backs that kept us + still walking without any feeling of weariness. Captain Billy had given me + at parting a small compass, of new invention, that a man could carry + easily in his pocket; and this from time to time I examin’d in the + moonlight, guiding our way almost due south, in hopes of striking into the + main road westward. I doubt not we lost a deal of time among the byways; + but at length happen’d on a good road bearing south, and follow’d it till + daybreak, when to our satisfaction we spied a hill in front, topp’d with a + stout castle, and under it a town of importance, that we guess’d to be + Launceston. + </p> + <p> + By this, my comrade and I were on the best of terms again; and now drew up + to consider if we should enter the town or avoid it to the west, trusting + to find a breakfast in some tavern on the way. Because we knew not with + certainty the temper of the country, it seem’d best to choose this second + course: so we fetch’d around by certain barren meadows, and thought + ourselves lucky to hit on a road that, by the size, must be the one we + sought, and a tavern with a wide yard before it and a carter’s van + standing at the entrance, not three gunshots from the town walls. + </p> + <p> + “Now Providence hath surely led us to breakfast,” said Delia, and stepped + before me into the yard, toward the door. + </p> + <p> + I was following her when, inside of a gate to the right of the house, I + caught the gleam of steel, and turn’d aside to look. + </p> + <p> + To my dismay there stood near a score of chargers in this second court, + saddled and dripping with sweat. My first thought was to run after Delia; + but a quick surprise made me rub my eyes with wonder— + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the sight of a sorrel mare among them—a mare with one high + white stocking. In a thousand I could have told her for Molly. + </p> + <p> + Three seconds after I was at the tavern door, and in my ears a voice + sounding that stopp’d me short and told me in one instant that without + God’s help all was lost. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the voice of Captain Settle speaking in the taproom; and already + Delia stood, past concealment, by the open door. + </p> + <p> + “... And therefore, master carter, it grieves me to disappoint thee; but + no man goeth this day toward Bodmin. Such be my Lord of Stamford’s orders, + whose servant I am, and as captain of this troop I am sent to exact them. + As they displease you, his lordship is but twenty-four hours behind: you + can abide him and complain. Doubtless he will hear—<i>ten million + devils!</i>” + </p> + <p> + I heard his shout as he caught sight of Delia. I saw his crimson face as + he darted out and gripp’d her. I saw, or half saw, the troopers crowding + out after him. For a moment I hesitated. Then came my pretty comrade’s + voice, shrill above the hubbub— + </p> + <p> + “Jack—they have horses outside! Leave me—I am ta’en—and + ride, dear lad—ride!” + </p> + <p> + In a flash my decision was taken, for better or worse. I dash’d out around + the house, vaulted the gate, and catching at Molly’s mane, leap’d into the + saddle. + </p> + <p> + A dozen troopers were at the gate, and two had their pistols levell’d. + </p> + <p> + “Surrender!” + </p> + <p> + “Be hang’d if I do!” + </p> + <p> + I set my teeth and put Molly at the low wall. As she rose like a bird in + air the two pistols rang out together, and a burning pain seem’d to tear + open my left shoulder. In a moment the mare alighted safe on the other + side, flinging me forward on her neck. But I scrambled back, and with a + shout that frighten’d my own ears, dug my heels into her flanks. + </p> + <p> + Half a minute more and I was on the hard road, galloping westward for dear + life. So also were a score of rebel troopers. Twenty miles and more lay + before me; and a bare hundred yards was all my start. + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: The two pistols rang out together.] + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XI. — I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND AM WELL TREATED THERE. + </h2></div> + <p> + And now I did indeed abandon myself to despair. Few would have given a + groat for my life, with that crew at my heels; and I least of all, now + that my dear comrade was lost. The wound in my shoulder was bleeding sore—I + could feel the warm stream welling—yet not so sore as my heart. And + I pressed my knees into the saddle flap, and wondered what the end would + be. + </p> + <p> + The sorrel mare was galloping, free and strong, her delicate ears laid + back, and the network of veins under her soft skin working with the heave + and fall of her withers: yet—by the mud and sweat about her—I + knew she must have travelled far before I mounted. I heard a shot or two + fired, far up the road: tho’ their bullets must have fallen short: at + least, I heard none whiz past. But the rebels’ shouting was clear enough, + and the thud of their gallop behind. + </p> + <p> + I think that, for a mile or two, I must have ridden in a sort of swoon. + ’Tis certain, not an inch of the road comes back to me: nor did I once + turn my head to look back, but sat with my eyes fastened stupidly on the + mare’s neck. And by-and-bye, as we galloped, the smart of my wound, the + heartache, hurry, pounding of hoofs—all dropp’d to an enchanting + lull. I rode, and that was all. + </p> + <p> + For, swoon or no, I was lifted off earth, as it seemed, and on easy wings + to an incredible height, where were no longer hedges, nor road, nor + country round; but a great stillness, and only the mare and I running + languidly through it. + </p> + <p> + “Ride!” + </p> + <p> + Now, at first, I thought ’twas someone speaking this in my ear, and turn’d + my head. But ’twas really the last word I had heard from Delia, now after + half an hour repeated in my brain. And as I grew aware of this, the + dullness fell off me, and all became very distinct. And the muscles about + my wound had stiffen’d—which was vilely painful: and the country, I + saw, was a brown, barren moor, dotted with peat-ricks: and I cursed it. + </p> + <p> + This did me good: for it woke the fighting-man in me, and I set my teeth. + Now for the first time looking back, I saw, with a great gulp of joy, I + had gained on the troopers. A long dip of the road lay between me and the + foremost, now topping the crest. The sun had broke through at last, and + sparkled on his cap and gorget. I whistled to Molly (I could not pat her), + and spoke to her softly: the sweet thing prick’d up her ears, laid them + back again, and mended her pace. Her stride was beautiful to feel. + </p> + <p> + I had yet no clear idea how to escape. In front the moors rose gradually, + swelling to the horizon line, and there broken into steep, jagged heights. + The road under me was sound white granite and stretch’d away till lost + among these fastnesses—in all of it no sign of man’s habitation. Be + sure I look’d along it, and to right and left, dreading to spy more + troopers. But for mile on mile, all was desolate. + </p> + <p> + Now and then I caught the cry of a pewit, or saw a snipe glance up from + his bed; but mainly I was busied about the mare. “Let us but gain the + ridge ahead,” thought I, “and there is a chance.” So I rode as light as I + could, husbanding her powers. + </p> + <p> + She was going her best, but the best was near spent. The sweat was oozing, + her satin coat losing the gloss, the spume flying back from her nostrils—“Soh!” + I called to her: “Soh! my beauty; we ride to save an army!” The loose + stones flew right and left, as she reach’d out her neck, and her breath + came shorter and shorter. + </p> + <p> + A mile, and another mile, we passed in this trim, and by the end of it + must have spent three-quarters of an hour at the work. Glancing back, I + saw the troopers scattered; far behind, but following. The heights were + still a weary way ahead: but I could mark their steep sides ribb’d with + boulders. Till these were passed, there was no chance to hide. The parties + in this race could see each other all the way, and must ride it out. + </p> + <p> + And all the way the ground kept rising. I had no means to ease the mare, + even by pulling off my heavy jack-boots, with one arm (and that my right) + dangling useless. Once she flung up her head and I caught sight of her + nostril, red as fire, and her poor eyes starting. I felt her strength + ebbing between my knees. Here and there she blundered in her stride. And + somewhere, over the ridge yonder, lay the Army of the West, and we alone + could save it. + </p> + <p> + The road, for half a mile, now fetched a sudden loop, though the country + on either side was level enough. Had my head been cool, I must have + guessed a reason for this: but, you must remember, I had long been giddy + with pain and loss of blood—so, thinking to save time, I turned + Molly off the granite, and began to cut across. + </p> + <p> + The short grass and heath being still frozen, we went fairly for the first + minute or so. But away behind us, I heard a shout—and it must have + been loud to reach me. I learn’d the meaning when, about two hundred yards + before we came on the road again, the mare’s forelegs went deep, and next + minute we were plunging in a black peat-quag. + </p> + <p> + Heaven can tell how we won through. It must have been still partly frozen, + and perhaps we were only on the edge of it. I only know that as we + scrambled up on solid ground, plastered and breathless, I looked at the + wintry sun, the waste, and the tall hill tow’ring to the right of us, and + thought it a strange place to die in. + </p> + <p> + For the struggle had burst open my wound again, and the blood was running + down my arm and off my fingers in a stream. And now I could count every + gorsebush, every stone—and now I saw nothing at all. And I heard the + tinkling of bells: and then found a tune running in my head—’twas + “Tire me in tiffany,” and I tried to think where last I heard it. + </p> + <p> + But sweet gallant Molly must have held on: for the next thing I woke up to + was a four-hol’d cross beside the road: and soon after we were over the + ridge and clattering down hill. + </p> + <p> + A rough tor had risen full in front, but the road swerved to the left and + took us down among the spurs of it. Now was my last lookout. I tried to + sway less heavily in the saddle, and with my eyes searched the plain at + our feet. + </p> + <p> + Alas! Beneath us the waste land was spread, mile upon mile: and I groaned + aloud. For just below I noted a clump of roofless cabins, and beyond, upon + the moors, the dotted walls of sheep-cotes, ruined also: but in all the + sad-color’d leagues no living man, nor the sign of one. It was done with + us. I reined up the mare—and then, in the same motion, wheeled her + sharp to the right. + </p> + <p> + High above, on the hillside, a voice was calling. + </p> + <p> + I look’d up. Below the steeper ridge of the tor a patch of land had been + cleared for tillage: and here a yoke of oxen was moving leisurely before a + plough (’twas their tinkling bells I had heard, just now); while behind + followed the wildest shape—by the voice, a woman. + </p> + <p> + She was not calling to me, but to her team: and as I put Molly at the + slope, her chant rose and fell in the mournfullest singsong. + </p> + <p> + “So-hoa! Oop Comely Vean! oop, then—o-oop!” + </p> + <p> + I rose in my stirrups and shouted. + </p> + <p> + At this and the sound of hoofs, she stay’d the plough and, hand on hip, + looked down the slope. The oxen, softly rattling the chains on their yoke, + turn’d their necks and gazed. With sunk head Molly heaved herself up the + last few yards and came to a halt with a stagger. I slipp’d out of the + saddle and stood, with a hand on it, swaying. + </p> + <p> + “What’s thy need, young man—that comest down to Temple wi’ sword + a-danglin’?” + </p> + <p> + The girl was a half-naked savage, dress’d only in a strip of sacking that + barely reach’d her knees, and a scant bodice of the same, lac’d in front + with pack thread, that left her bosom and brown arms free. Yet she + appear’d no whit abash’d, but lean’d on the plough-tail and regarded me, + easy and frank, as a man would. + </p> + <p> + “Sell me a horse,” I blurted out: “Twenty guineas will I give for one + within five minutes, and more if he be good! I ride on the King’s errand.” + </p> + <p> + “Then get thee back to thy master, an’ say, no horse shall he have o’ me—nor + any man that uses horseflesh so.” She pointed to Molly’s knees, that were + bow’d and shaking, and the bloody froth dripping from her mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Girl, for God’s sake sell me a horse! They are after me, and I am hurt.” + I pointed up the road. “Better than I are concerned in this.” + </p> + <p> + “God nor King know I, young man. But what’s on thy saddle cloth, there?” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the smear where my blood had soak’d: and looking and seeing the + purple mess cak’d with mud and foam on the sorrel’s flank, I felt suddenly + very sick. The girl made a step to me. + </p> + <p> + “Sell thee a horse? Hire thee a bedman, more like. Nay, then, lad—” + </p> + <p> + But I saw her no longer: only called “oh-oh!” twice, like a little child, + and slipping my hold of the saddle, dropp’d forward on her breast. + </p> +<div class="pre"> + * * * * * * * +</div> + <p> + Waking, I found myself in darkness—not like that of night, but of a + room where the lights have gone out: and felt that I was dying. But this + hardly seem’d a thing to be minded. There was a smell of peat and bracken + about. Presently I heard the tramp of feet somewhere overhead, and a dull + sound of voices that appear’d to be cursing. + </p> + <p> + The footsteps went to and fro, the voices muttering most of the time. + After a bit I caught a word—“Witchcraft”: and then a voice speaking + quite close—“There’s blood ’pon her hands, an’ there’s blood yonder + by the plough.” Said another voice, higher and squeaky, “there’s scent + behind a fox, but you don’t dig it up an’ take it home.” The tramp passed + on, and the voices died away. + </p> + <p> + By this I knew the troopers were close, and seeking me. A foolish thought + came that I was buried, and they must be rummaging over my grave: but + indeed I had no wish to enquire into it; no wish to move even, but just to + lie and enjoy the lightness of my limbs. The blood was still running. I + felt the warmth of it against my back: and thought it very pleasant. So I + shut my eyes and dropp’d off again. + </p> + <p> + Then I heard the noise of shouting, far away: and a long while after that, + was rous’d by the touch of a hand, thrust in against my naked breast, over + my heart. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” I whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Joan,” answered a voice, and the hand was withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + The darkness had lifted somewhat, and though something stood between me + and the light, I mark’d a number of small specks, like points of gold + dotted around me— + </p> + <p> + “Joan—what besides?” + </p> + <p> + “Joan’s enough, I reckon: lucky for thee ’tis none else. Joan o’ the Tor + folks call me, but may jet be Joan i’ Good Time. So hold thy peace, lad, + an’ cry out so little as may be.” + </p> + <p> + I felt a ripping of my jacket sleeve and shirt, now clotted and stuck to + the flesh. It pain’d cruelly, but I shut my teeth: and after that came the + smart and delicious ache of water, as she rinsed the wound. + </p> + <p> + “Clean through the flesh, lad:—in an’ out, like country dancin’. No + bullet to probe nor bone to set. Heart up, soce! Thy mother shall kiss + thee yet. What’s thy name?” + </p> + <p> + “Marvel, Joan—Jack Marvel.” + </p> + <p> + “An’ marvel ’tis thou’rt Marvel yet. Good blood there’s in thee, but + little enow.” + </p> + <p> + She bandaged the sore with linen torn from my shirt, and tied it round + with sackcloth from her own dress. ’Twas all most gently done: and then I + found her arms under me, and myself lifted as easy as a baby. + </p> + <p> + “Left arm round my neck, Jack: an’ sing out if ’tis hurtin’ thee.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed but six steps and we were out on the bright hillside, not fifty + paces from where the plough yet stood in the furrow. I caught a glimpse of + a brown neck and a pair of firm red lips, of the grey tor stretching above + us and, further aloft, a flock of field fare hanging in the pale sky; and + then shut my eyes for the dazzle: but could still feel the beat of Joan’s + heart as she held me close, and the touch of her breath on my forehead. + </p> + <p> + Down the hill she carried me, picking the softest turf, and moving with an + easeful swing that rather lull’d my hurt than jolted it. I was dozing, + even, when a strange noise awoke me. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a high protracted note, that seem’d at first to swell up toward us, + and then broke off in half a dozen or more sharp yells. Joan took no heed + of them, but seeing my eyes unclose, and hearing me moan, stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “Hurts thee, lad?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” ’Twas not my pain but the sight of the sinking sun that wrung the + exclamation from me—“I was thinking,” I muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t: ’tis bad for health. But bide thee still a-while, and shalt lie + ’pon a soft bed.” + </p> + <p> + By this time, we had come down to the road: and the yells were still going + on, louder than ever. We cross’d the road, descended another slope, and + came all at once on a low pile of buildings that a moment before had been + hid. ’Twas but three hovels of mud, stuck together in the shape of a + headless cross, the main arm pointing out toward the moor. Around the + whole ran a battered wall, patched with furs; and from this dwelling the + screams were issuing— + </p> + <p> + “Joan!” the voice began, “Joan—Jan Tergagle’s a-clawin’ my legs—Gar-rout, + thou hell cat—Blast thee, let me zog! Pull’n off Joan—Jo-an!” + </p> + <p> + The voice died away into a wail; then broke out in a racket of curses. + Joan stepped to the door and flung it wide. As my eyes grew used to the + gloom inside, they saw this:— + </p> + <p> + A rude kitchen—the furniture but two rickety chairs, now toss’d on + their faces, an oak table, with legs sunk into the earth, a keg of strong + waters, tilted over and draining upon the mud floor, a ladder leading up + to a loft, and in two of the corners a few bundles of bracken strewn for + bedding. To the left, as one entered, was an open hearth; but the glowing + peat-turves were now pitch’d to right and left over the hearthstone and + about the floor, where they rested, filling the den with smoke. Under one + of the chairs a black cat spat and bristled: while in the middle of the + room, barefooted in the embers, crouched a man. He was half naked, old and + bent, with matted grey hair and beard hanging almost to his waist. His + chest and legs were bleeding from a score of scratches; and he pointed at + the cat, opening and shutting his mouth like a dog, and barking out curse + upon curse. + </p> + <p> + No way upset, Joan stepped across the kitchen, laid me on one of the + bracken beds, and explain’d— + </p> + <p> + “That’s feyther: he’s drunk.” + </p> + <p> + With which she turn’d, dealt the old man a cuff that stretch’d him + senseless, and gathering up the turves, piled them afresh on the hearth. + This done, she took the keg and gave me a drink of it. The stuff scalded + me, but I thanked her. And then, when she had shifted my bed a bit, to + ease the pain of lying, she righted a chair, drew it up and sat beside me. + The old man lay like a log where he had fallen, and was now snoring. + Presently, the fumes of the liquor, or mere faintness, mastered me, and my + eyes closed. But the picture they closed upon was that of Joan, as she + lean’d forward, chin on hand, with the glow of the fire on her brown skin + and in the depths of her dark eyes. + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: Joan] + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XII. — HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE + FIGHT ON BRADDOCK DOWN. + </h2></div> + <p> + But the pain of my hurt followed into my dreams. I woke with a start, and + tried to sit up. + </p> + <p> + Within the kitchen all was quiet. The old savage was still stretch’d on + the floor: the cat curled upon the hearth. The girl had not stirr’d: but + looking toward the window hole, I saw night out side, and a frosty star + sparkling far down in the west. + </p> + <p> + “Joan, what’s the hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Sun’s been down these four hours.” She turned her face to look at me. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve no business lying here.” + </p> + <p> + “Chose to come, lad: none axed thee, that <i>I</i> knows by.” + </p> + <p> + “Where’s the mare? Must set me across her back, Joan, and let me ride on.” + </p> + <p> + “Mare’s in stable, wi’ fetlocks swelled like puddens. Chose to come, lad; + an’ choose or no, must bide.” + </p> + <p> + “’Tis for the General Hopton, at Bodmin, I am bound, Joan; and wound or + no, must win there this night.” + </p> + <p> + “And that’s seven mile away: wi’ a bullet in thy skull, and a peat quag + thy burial. For <i>they</i> went south, and thy road lieth more south than + west.” + </p> + <p> + “The troopers?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, Jack: an’ work I had this day wi’ those same bloody warriors: but + take a sup at the keg, and bite this manchet of oat cake while I tell + thee.” + </p> + <p> + And so, having fed me, and set my bed straight, she sat on the floor + beside me (for the better hearing), and in her uncouth tongue, told how I + had been saved. I cannot write her language; but the tale, in sum, was + this:— + </p> + <p> + When I dropp’d forward into her arms, Joan for a moment was taken aback, + thinking me dead. But (to quote her) “‘no good,’ said I, ‘in cuddlin’ a + lad ’pon the hillside, for folks to see, tho’ he <i>have</i> a-got curls + like a wench: an’ dead or ‘live, no use to wait for others to make sure.’” + </p> + <p> + So she lifted and carried me to a spot hard by, that she called the “Jew’s + Kitchen;” and where that was, even with such bearings as I had, she defied + me to discover. There was no time to tend me, whilst Molly stood near to + show my whereabouts: so she let me lie, and went to lead the sorrel down + to stable. + </p> + <p> + Her hand was on the bridle when she heard a <i>Whoop!</i> up the road; and + there were half a dozen riders on the crest, and tearing down hill toward + her. Joan had nothing left but to feign coolness, and went on leading the + mare down the slope. + </p> + <p> + In a while, up comes the foremost trooper, draws rein, and pants out + “Where’s he to?” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” asks Joan, making out to be surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the lad whose mare thou’rt leadin’?” + </p> + <p> + “Mile an’ half away by now.” + </p> + <p> + “How’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “Freshly horsed,” explains Joan. + </p> + <p> + The troopers—they were all around her by this—swore ’twas a + lie; but luckily, being down in the hollow, could not see over the next + ridge. They began a string of questions all together: but at last a little + tun bellied sergeant call’d “Silence!” and asked the girl, “did she loan + the fellow a horse?” + </p> + <p> + Here I will quote her again:— + </p> + <p> + “‘Sir, to thee,’ I answer’d, ‘no loan at all, but fair swap for our Grey + Robin.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘That’s a lie,’ he says; ’an’ I won’t believe thee.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Might so well,’ says I; ‘but go to stable, an’ see for thysel’ (Never + had grey horse to my name, Jack; but, thinks I, that’s <i>his’n</i> + lookout.)” + </p> + <p> + They went, did these simple troopers, to look at the stable, and sure + enough, there was no Grey Robin. Nevertheless, some amongst them had logic + enough to take this as something less than proof convincing, and spent + three hours and more ransacking the house and barn, and searching the tor + and the moors below it. I learn’d too, that Joan had come in for some + rough talk—to which she put a stop, as she told me, by offering to + fight any man Jack of them for the buttons on his buffcoat. And at length, + about sundown, they gave up the hunt, and road away over the moors toward + Warleggan, having (as the girl heard them say) to be at Braddock before + night. + </p> + <p> + “Where is this Braddock?” + </p> + <p> + “Nigh to Lord Mohun’s house at Boconnoc: seven mile away to the south, and + seven mile or so from Bodmin, as a crow flies.” + </p> + <p> + “Then go I must,” cried I: and hereupon I broke out with all the trouble + that was on my mind, and the instant need to save these gallant gentlemen + of Cornwall, ere two armies should combine against them. I told of the + King’s letter in my breast, and how I found the Lord Stamford’s men at + Launceston; how that Ruthen, with the vanguard of the rebels, was now at + Liskeard, with but a bare day’s march between the two, and none but I to + carry the warning. And “Oh, Joan!” I cried, “my comrade I left upon the + road. Brighter courage and truer heart never man proved, and yet left by + me in the rebels’ hands. Alas! that I could neither save nor help, but + must still ride on: and here is the issue—to lie struck down within + ten mile of my goal—I, that have traveled two hundred. And if the + Cornishmen be not warned to give fight before Lord Stamford come up, all’s + lost. Even now they be outnumber’d. So lift me, Joan, and set me astride + Molly, and I’ll win to Bodmin yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Reckon, Jack, thou’d best hand <i>me</i> thy letter.” + </p> + <p> + Now, I did not at once catch the intent of these words, so simply spoken; + but stared at her like an owl. + </p> + <p> + “There’s horse in stall, lad,” she went on, “tho’ no Grey Robin. + Tearaway’s the name, and strawberry the color.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Joan, Joan, if you do this—feel inside my coat here, to the + left—you will save an army, girl, maybe a throne! Here ’tis, Joan, + see—no, not that—here! Say the seal is that of the Governor of + Bristol, who stole it from me for a while: but the handwriting will be + known for the King’s: and no hand but yours must touch it till you stand + before Sir Ralph Hopton. The King shall thank you, Joan; and God will + bless you for’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Hope so, I’m sure. But larn me what to say, lad: for I be main thick + witted.” + </p> + <p> + So I told her the message over and over, till she had it by heart. + </p> + <p> + “Shan’t forgit, now,” she said, at length; “an’ so hearken to me for a + change. Bide still, nor fret thysel’. Here’s pasty an’ oat cake, an’ a keg + o’ water that I’ll stow beside thee. Pay no heed to feyther, an’ if he + wills to get drunk an’ fight wi’ Jan Tergagle—that’s the cat—why + let’n. Drunk or sober, he’s no ’count.” + </p> + <p> + She hid the letter in her bosom, and stepp’d to the door. On the threshold + she turned— + </p> + <p> + “Jack—forgot to ax: what be all this bloodshed about?” + </p> + <p> + “For Church and King, Joan.” + </p> + <p> + “H’m: same knowledge ha’ I o’ both—an’ that’s naught. But I dearly + loves fair play.” + </p> + <p> + She was gone. In a minute or so I heard the trampling of a horse: and + then, with a scurry of hoofs, Joan was off on the King’s errand, and + riding into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Little rest had I that night; but lay awake on my bracken bed and watched + the burning peat-turves turn to grey, and drop, flake by flake, till only + a glowing point remained. The door rattled now and then on the hinge: out + on the moor the light winds kept a noise persistent as town dogs at + midnight: and all the while my wound was stabbing, and the bracken + pricking me till I groaned aloud. + </p> + <p> + As day began to break, the old man picked himself up, yawned and lounged + out, returning after a time with fresh turves for the hearth. He noticed + me no more than a stone, but when the fire was restack’d, drew up his + chair to the warmth, and breakfasted on oat cake and a liberal deal of + liquor. Observing him, the black cat uncoil’d, stretch’d himself, and + climbing to his master’s knee, sat there purring, and the best of friends. + I also judged it time to breakfast: found my store: took a bite or two, + and a pull at the keg, and lay back—this time to sleep. + </p> + <p> + When I woke, ’twas high noon. The door stood open, and outside on the wall + the winter sunshine was lying, very bright and clear. Indoors, the old + savage had been drinking steadily; and still sat before the fire, with the + cat on one knee, and his keg on the other. I sat up and strain’d my ears. + Surely, if Joan had not failed, the royal generals would march out and + give battle at once: and surely, if they were fighting, not ten miles + away, some sound of it would reach me. But beyond the purring of the cat, + I heard nothing. + </p> + <p> + I crawl’d to my feet, rested a moment to stay the giddiness, and totter’d + across to the door, where I lean’d, listening and gazing south. No strip + of vapor lay on the moors that stretch’d—all bathed in the most + wonderful bright colors—to the lip of the horizon. The air was like + a sounding board. I heard the bleat of an old wether, a mile off, upon the + tors; and was turning away dejected, when, far down in the south, there + ran a sound that set my heart leaping. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the crackling of musketry. + </p> + <p> + There was no mistaking it. The noise ran like wildfire along the hills: + before echo could overtake it, a low rumbling followed, and then the + brisker crackling again. I caught at the door post and cried, faint with + the sudden joy— + </p> + <p> + “Thou angel, Joan!—thou angel!” + </p> + <p> + And then, as something took me by the throat—“Joan, Joan—to + see what thou seest!” + </p> + <p> + A long time I lean’d by the door post there, drinking in the sound that + now was renewed at quicker intervals. Yet, for as far as I could see, + ’twas the peacefullest scene, though dreary—quiet sunshine on the + hills, and the sheep dotted here and there, cropping. But down yonder, + over the edge of the moors, men were fighting and murdering each other: + and I yearn’d to see how the day went. + </p> + <p> + Being both weak and loth to miss a sound of it, I sank down on the + threshold, and there lay, with my eyes turned southward, through a gap in + the stone fence. In a while the musketry died away, and I wondered: but + thought I could still at times mark a low sound as of men shouting, and + this, as I learn’d after, was the true battle. + </p> + <p> + It must have been an hour or more before I saw a number of black specks + coming over the ridge of hills, and swarming down into the plain toward + me: and then a denser body following. ’Twas a company of horse, moving at + a great pace: and I guessed that the battle was done, and these were the + first fugitives of the beaten army. + </p> + <p> + On they came, in great disorder, scattering as they advanced: and now, in + parts, the hill behind was black with footmen, running. ’Twas a rout, sure + enough. Once or twice, on the heights, I heard a bugle blown, as if to + rally the crowd: but saw nothing come of it, and presently the notes + ceased, or I forgot to listen. + </p> + <p> + The foremost company of horse was heading rather to the eastward of me, to + gain the high road; and the gross pass’d me by at half a mile’s distance. + But some came nearer, and to my extreme joy, I learn’d from their arms and + shouting, what till now I had been eagerly hoping, that ’twas the rebel + army thus running in rout: and tho’ now without strength to kneel, I had + enough left to thank God heartily. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas so curious to see the plain thus suddenly fill’d with rabble, all + running from the south, and the silly startled sheep rushing + helter-skelter, and huddling together on the tors above, that I forgot my + own likely danger if any of this revengeful crew should come upon me lying + there: and was satisfied to watch them as they straggled over the moors + toward the road. Some pass’d close to the cottage; but none seem’d anxious + to pause there. ’Twas a glad and a sorry sight. I saw a troop of dragoons + with a standard in their midst; and a drummer running behind, too far + distracted even to cast his drum away, so that it dangled against his + back, with a great rent where the music had been; and then two troopers + running together; and one that was wounded lay down for a while within a + stone’s throw of me, and would not go further, till at last his comrade + persuaded him; and after them a larger company, in midst of whom was a man + crying, “We are sold, I tell ye, and I can point to the man!” and so + passed by. There were some, too, that were galloping three stout horses in + a carriage, and upon it a brass twelve pounder. But the carriage stuck + fast in a quag, and so they cut the traces and left it there, where, two + days after, Sir John Berkeley’s dragoons found and pulled it out. And this + was the fourth, I had heard, that the King’s troops took in that victory. + </p> + <p> + Yet there were not above five or six hundred in all that I saw; and I + guessed (as was the case) that this must be but an off-shoot, so to say, + of the bigger rout that pass’d eastward through Liskeard. I was thinking + of this when I heard footsteps near, and a man came panting through a gap + in the wall, into the yard. + </p> + <p> + He was a big, bareheaded fellow, exceedingly flush’d with running, but + unhurt, as far as I could see. Indeed, he might easily have kill’d me, and + for a moment I thought sure he would. But catching sight of me, he nodded + very friendly, and sitting on a heap of stones a yard or two away, began + to draw off his boot, and search for a prickle, that it seem’d had got + into it. + </p> + <p> + “’Tis a mess of it, yonder,” said he, quietly, and jerk’d his thumb over + his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + By the look of me, he could tell I was on the other side; but this did not + appear to concern him. + </p> + <p> + “How has it gone?” asked I. “Well,” says he, with his nose in the + boot; “we had a pretty rising ground, and the Cornishmen march’d up and + whipp’d us out—that’s all—and took a mort o’ prisoners.” He + found the prickle, drew on his boot again, and asked— + </p> + <p> + “T’other side?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the laughing side, this day. Good evening.” + </p> + <p> + And with that he went off as fast as he came. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas, may be, an hour after, that another came in through the same gap: + this time a lean, hawk-eyed man, with a pinch’d face and two ugly gashes—one + across the brow from left eye to the roots of his hair, the other in his + leg below the knee, that had sliced through boot and flesh like a + scythe-cut. His face was smear’d with blood, and he carried a musket. + </p> + <p> + “Water!” he bark’d out as he came trailing into the yard. “Give me water—I’m + a dead man!” + </p> + <p> + He was stepping over me to enter the kitchen, when he halted and said— + </p> + <p> + “Art a malignant, for certain!” + </p> + <p> + And before I had a chance to reply, his musket was swung up, and I felt my + time was come to die. + </p> + <p> + But now the old savage, that had been sitting all day before his fire, + without so much as a sign to show if he noticed aught that was passing, + jump’d up with a yell and leap’d toward us. He and the cat were on the + poor wretch together, tearing and clawing. I can hear their hellish + outcries to this day: but at the moment they turn’d me faint. And the next + thing I recall is being dragged inside by the old man, who shut the door + after me and slipp’d the bolt, leaving the wounded trooper on the other + side. He beat against it for some time, sobbing piteously for water: and + then I heard him groaning at intervals, till he died. At least, the groans + ceased; and next day he was found with his back against the cottage wall, + stark and dead. + </p> + <p> + Having pulled me inside, Joan’s father must have thought he had done + enough: for on the floor I lay for hours, and passed from one swoon into + another. He and the cat had gone back to the fire again, and long before + evening both were sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + So there I lay helpless, till, at nightfall, there came the trampling of a + horse outside, and then a rap on the door. The old man started up and + opened it: and in rushed Joan, her eyes lit up, her breast heaving, and in + her hand a naked sword. + </p> + <p> + “Church and King, Jack!” she cried, and flung the blade with a clang on to + the table. “Church and King! O brave day’s work, lad—O bloody work + this day!” + </p> + <p> + And I swooned again. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XIII. — I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH + MR. HANNIBAL + </h2></div> + <h3> + TINGCOMB. + </h3> + <p> + There had, indeed, been brave work on Braddock Down that 19th of January. + For Sir Ralph Hopton with the Cornish grandees had made short business of + Ruthen’s army—driving it headlong back on Liskeard at the first + charge, chasing it through that town, and taking 1,200 prisoners + (including Sir Shilston Calmady), together with many colors, all the rebel + ordnance and ammunition, and most of their arms. At Liskeard, after + refreshing their men, and holding next day a solemn thanksgiving to God, + they divided—the Lord Mohun with Sir Ralph Hopton and Colonel + Godolphin marching with the greater part of the army upon Saltash, whither + Ruthen had fled and was entrenching himself; while Sir John Berkeley and + Colonel Ashburnham, with a small party of horse and dragoons and the + voluntary regiments of Sir Bevill Grenville, Sir Nich. Slanning, and + Colonel Trevanion, turned to the northeast, toward Launceston and + Tavistock, to see what account they might render of the Earl of Stamford’s + army; that, however, had no stomach to await them, but posted out of the + county into Plymouth and Exeter. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas on this expedition that two or three of the captains I have + mentioned halted for an hour or more at Temple, as well to recognize + Joan’s extreme meritorious service, as to thank me for the part I had in + bringing news of the Earl of Stamford’s advance. For ’twas this, they + own’d, had saved them—the King’s message being but an exhortation + and an advertisement upon some lesser matters, the most of which were + already taken out of human hands by the turn of events. + </p> + <p> + But though, as I learn’d, these gentlemen were full of compliments and + professions of esteem, I neither saw nor heard them, being by this time + delirious of a high fever that followed my wound. And not till three good + weeks after, was I recover’d enough to leave my bed, nor, for many more, + did my full strength return to me. No mother could have made a tenderer + nurse than was Joan throughout this time. ’Tis to her I owe it that I am + alive to write these words: and if the tears scald my eyes as I do so, you + will pardon them, I promise, before the end of my tail is reach’d. + </p> + <p> + In the first days of my recovery, news came to us (I forget how) that a + solemn sacrament had been taken between the parties in Devon and Cornwall, + and the country was at peace. Little I cared, at the time: but was content—now + spring was come—to loiter about the tors, and while watching Joan at + her work, to think upon Delia. For, albeit I had little hope to see her + again, my late pretty comrade held my thoughts the day long. I shared them + with nobody: for tho’ ’tis probable I had let some words fall in my + delirium, Joan never hinted at this, and I never found out. + </p> + <p> + To Joan’s company I was left: for her father, after saving my life that + afternoon, took no further notice of me by word or deed; and the cat, Jan + Tergagle (nam’d after a spirit that was said to haunt the moors + hereabouts), was as indifferent. So with Joan I passed the days idly, + tending the sheep, or waiting on her as she ploughed, or lying full length + on the hillside and talking with her of war and battles. ’Twas the one + topic on which she was curious (scoffing at me when I offered to teach her + to read print), and for hours she would listen to stories of Alexander and + Hannibal, Caesar and Joan of Arc, and other great commanders whose history + I remember’d. + </p> + <p> + One evening—’twas early in May—we had climb’d to the top of + the grey tor above Temple, whence we could spy the white sails of the two + Channels moving, and, stretch’d upon the short turf there, I was telling + my usual tale. Joan lay beside me, her chin propp’d on one earth-stain’d + hand, her great solemn eyes wide open as she listened. Till that moment I + had regarded her rather as a man comrade than a girl, but now some + feminine trick of gesture awoke me perhaps, for my fancy began to contrast + her with Delia, and I broke off my story and sigh’d. + </p> + <p> + “Art longing to be hence?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + I felt ashamed to be thus caught, and was silent. She look’d at me and + went on— + </p> + <p> + “Speak out, lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Loth would I be to leave you, Joan.” + </p> + <p> + “And why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, we are good friends, I hope: and I am grateful.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, aye—wish thee’d learn to speak the truth, Jack. Art longing to + be hence, and shalt—soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Joan, you would not have me dwell here always?” + </p> + <p> + She made no answer for a while, and then with a change of tone— + </p> + <p> + “Shalt ride wi’ me to Bodmin Fair to-morrow for a treat, an’ see the Great + Turk and the Fat ’Ooman and hocus-pocus. So tell me more ’bout Joan the + Frenchwoman.” + </p> + <p> + On the morrow, about nine in the morning, we set off—Joan on the + strawberry, balanced easily on an old sack, which was all her saddle; and + I on Molly, that now was sound again and chafing to be so idle. As we set + out, Joan’s father for the first time took some notice of me, standing at + the door to see us off and shouting after us to bring home some account of + the wrestling. Looking back at a quarter mile’s distance I saw him still + fram’d in the doorway, with the cat perch’d on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Bodmin town is naught but a narrow street, near on a mile long, and + widening toward the western end. It lies mainly along the south side of a + steep vale, and this May morning as Joan and I left the moors and rode + down to it from northward, already we could hear trumpets blowing, the big + drum sounding, and all the bawling voices and hubbub of the fair. + Descending, we found the long street lin’d with booths and shows, and nigh + blocked with the crowd: for the revel began early and was now in full + swing. And the crew of gipsies, whifflers, mountebanks, fortune tellers, + cut-purses and quacks, mix’d up with honest country faces, beat even the + rabble I had seen at Wantage. + </p> + <p> + Now my own first business was with a tailor: for the clothes I wore when I + rode into Temple, four months back, had been so sadly messed with blood, + and afterward cut, to free them from my wound, that now all the tunic I + wore was of sackcloth, contrived and stitch’d together by Joan. So I made + at once for a decent shop, where luckily I found a suit to fit me, one + taken (the tailor said) off a very promising young gentleman that had the + misfortune to be kill’d on Braddock Down. Arrayed in this, I felt myself + again, and offered to take Joan to see the Fat Woman. + </p> + <p> + We saw her, and the Aethiop, and the Rhinoceros (which put me in mind of + poor Anthony Killigrew), and the Pig-fac’d Baby, and the Cudgel play; and + presently halted before a Cheap Jack, that was crying his wares in a + prodigious loud voice, near the town wall. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a meagre, sharp-visag’d fellow with a grey chin beard like a billy + goat’s; and (as fortune would have it) spying our approach, he picked out + a mirror from his stock and holding it aloft, addressed us straight— + </p> + <p> + “What have we here,” cries he, “but a pair o’ lovers coming? and what i’ + my hand but a lover’s hourglass? Sure the stars of heav’n must have a hand + in this conjuncture—and only thirteen pence, my pretty fellow, for a + glass that will tell the weather i’ your sweetheart’s face, and help make + it fine.” + </p> + <p> + There were many country fellows with their maids in the crowd, that turned + their heads at this address; and as usual the women began. + </p> + <p> + “Tis Joan o’ the Tor!” + </p> + <p> + “Joan’s picked up wi’ a sweetheart—tee-hee!—an’ us reckoned + her’d forsworn mankind!” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Some furriner, sure: that likes garlic.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s bought her no ribbons yet.” + </p> + <p> + “How should he, poor lad; that can find no garments upon her to fasten ’em + to?” + </p> + <p> + And so on, with a deal of spiteful laughter. Some of these sayings were + half truth, no doubt: but the truthfullest word may be infelix. So noting + a dark flush on Joan’s cheek, I thought to end the scene by taking the + Cheap Jack’s mirror on the spot, to stop his tongue, and then drawing her + away. + </p> + <p> + But in this I was a moment too late; for just as I reached up my hand with + the thirteen pence, and the grinning fellow on the platform bent forward + with his mirror, I heard a coarser jest, a rush in the crowd, and two + heads go <i>crack!</i> together like eggs. ’Twas two of Joan’s tormentors + she had taken by the hair and served so: and dropping them the next + instant had caught the Cheap Jack’s beard, as you might a bell rope, and + wrench’d him head-foremost off his stand, my thirteen pence flying far and + wide. Plump he fell into the crowd, that scatter’d on all hands as Joan + pummelled him: and <i>whack, whack!</i> fell the blows on the poor idiot’s + face, who scream’d for mercy, as though Judgment Day were come. + </p> + <p> + No one, for the minute, dared to step between them: and presently Joan + looking up, with arm raised for another buffet, spied a poor Astrologer + close by, in a red and yellow gown, that had been reading fortunes in a + tub of black water beside him, but was now broken off, dismayed at the + hubbub. To this tub she dragged the Cheap Jack and sent him into it with a + round souse. The black water splashed right and left over the crowd. Then, + her wrath sated, Joan faced the rest, with hands on hips, and waited for + them to come on. + </p> + <p> + Not a word had she spoken, from first to last: but stood now with hot + cheeks and bosom heaving. Then, finding none to take up her challenge, she + strode out through the folk, and I after her, with the mirror in my hand; + while the Cheap Jack picked himself out of the tub, whining, and the + Astrologer wip’d his long white beard and soil’d robe. + </p> + <p> + Outside the throng was a carriage, stopp’d for a minute by this tumult, + and a servant at the horses’ heads. By the look of it, ’twas the coach of + some person of quality; and glancing at it I saw inside an old gentleman + with a grave venerable face, seated. For the moment it flash’d on me I had + seen him before, somewhere: and cudgell’d my wits to think where it had + been. But a second and longer gaze assured me I was mistaken, and I went + on down the street after Joan. + </p> + <p> + She was walking fast and angry; nor when I caught her up and tried to + soothe, would she answer me but in the shortest words. Woman’s justice, as + I had just learn’d, has this small defect—it goes straight enough, + but mainly for the wrong object. Which now I proved in my own case. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Joan?” + </p> + <p> + “To ‘Fifteen Balls’’ stable, for my horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Art not leaving the fair yet, surely!” + </p> + <p> + “That I be, tho’. Have had fairing enow—wi’ a man!” + </p> + <p> + Nor for a great part of the way home would she speak to me. But meeting, + by Pound Scawens (a hamlet close to the road), with some friends going to + the fair, she stopp’d for a while to chat with them, whilst I rode + forward: and when she overtook me, her brow was clear again. + </p> + <p> + “Am a hot headed fool, Jack, and have spoil’d thy day for thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, that you have not,” said I, heartily glad to see her humble, for the + first time in our acquaintance: “but if you have forgiven me that which I + could not help, you shall take this that I bought for you, in proof.” + </p> + <p> + And pulling out the mirror, I lean’d over and handed it to her. + </p> + <p> + “What i’ the world be this?” she ask’d, taking and looking at it + doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Why, a mirror.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “A glass to see your face in,” I explained. + </p> + <p> + “Be this my face?” She rode forward, holding up the glass in front of her. + “Why, what a handsome looking gal I be, to be sure! Jack, art certain ’tis + my very own face?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said I amazed. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” There was silence for a full minute, save for our horses’ tread on + the high road. And then— + </p> + <p> + “Jack, I be powerful dirty!” + </p> + <p> + This was true enough, and it made me laugh. She looked up solemnly at my + mirth (having no sense of a joke, then or ever) and bent forward to the + glass again. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” said I, “did you mark a carriage just outside the crowd, by + the Cheap Jack’s booth?—with a white-hair’d gentleman seated + inside?” + </p> + <p> + Joan nodded. “Master Hannibal Tingcomb: steward o’ Gleys.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” + </p> + <p> + I jumped in my saddle, and with a pull at the bridle brought Molly to a + standstill. + </p> + <p> + “Of Gleys?” I cried. “Steward of Sir Deakin Killigrew that was?” + </p> + <p> + “Right, lad, except the last word. ‘That <i>is</i>,’ should’st rather + say.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are wrong, Joan: for he’s dead and buried, these five months. + Where is this house of Gleys? for to-morrow I must ride there.” + </p> + <p> + “’Tis easy found, then: for it stands on the south coast yonder, and no + house near it: five mile from anywhere, and sixteen from Temple, due + south. Shall want thee afore thou startest, Jack. Dear, now! who’d ha’ + thought I was so dirty?” + </p> + <p> + The cottage door stood open as we rode into the yard, and from it a faint + smoke came curling, with a smell of peat. Within I found the smould’ring + turves scattered about as on the day of my first arrival, and among them + Joan’s father stretch’d, flat on his face: only this time the cat was + curl’d up quietly, and lying between the old man’s shoulder blades. + </p> + <p> + “Drunk again,” said Joan shortly. + </p> + <p> + But looking more narrowly, I marked a purplish stain on the ground by the + old man’s mouth, and turned him softly over. + </p> + <p> + “Joan,” said I, “he’s not drunk—he’s dead!” + </p> + <p> + She stood above us and looked down, first at the corpse, then at me, + without speaking for a time: at last— + </p> + <p> + “Then I reckon he may so well be buried.” + </p> + <p> + “Girl,” I call’d out, being shocked at this callousness, “’tis your father—and + he is dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Why that’s so, lad. An he were alive, shouldn’t trouble thee to bury ’n.” + </p> + <p> + And so, before night, we carried him up to the bleak tor side, and dug his + grave there; the black cat following us to look. Five feet deep we laid + him, having dug down to solid rock; and having covered him over, went + silently back to the hovel. Joan had not shed a single tear. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XIV. — I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS. + </h2></div> + <p> + Very early next morning I awoke, and hearing no sound in the loft above + (whither, since my coming, Joan had carried her bed), concluded her to be + still asleep. But in this I was mistaken: for going to the well at the + back to wash, I found her there, studying her face in the mirror. + </p> + <p> + “Luckily met, Jack,” she said, when I was cleansed and freshly glowing: + “Now fill another bucket and sarve me the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannot you wash yourself?” I ask’d, as I did so. + </p> + <p> + “Lost the knack, I reckon. Stand thee so, an’ slush the water over me.” + </p> + <p> + “But your clothes!” I cried out, “they’ll be soaking wet!” + </p> + <p> + “Clothes won’t be worse for a wash, neither. So slush away.” + </p> + <p> + Therefore, standing at three paces’ distance, I sent a bucketful over her, + and then another and another. Six times I filled and emptied the bucket in + all: and at the end she was satisfied, and went, dripping, back to the + kitchen to get me my breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Art early abroad,” she said, as we sat together over the meal. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for I must ride to Gleys this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Shan’t be sorry to miss thee for a while. Makes me feel so shy—this + cleanliness.” So, promising to be back by nightfall, I went presently to + saddle Molly: and following Joan’s directions and her warnings against + quags and pitfalls, was soon riding south across the moor and well on my + road to the House of Gleys. + </p> + <p> + My way leading me by Braddock Down, I turned aside for a while to examine + the ground of the late fight (tho’ by now little was to be seen but a + piece of earthwork left unfinish’d by the rebels, and the fresh mounds + where the dead were laid); and so ’twas high noon—and a dull, + cheerless day—before the hills broke and let me have sight of the + sea. Nor, till the noise of the surf was in my ears, did I mark the + chimneys and naked grey walls of the house I was bound for. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a gloomy, savage pile of granite, perch’d at the extremity of a + narrow neck of land, where every wind might sweep it, and the waves beat + on three sides the cliff below. The tide was now at the full, almost, and + the spray flying in my face, as we crossed the head of a small beach, + forded a stream, and scrambled up the rough road to the entrance gate. + </p> + <p> + A thin line of smoke blown level from one chimney was all the sign of life + in the building: for the narrow lights of the upper story were mostly + shuttered, and the lower floor was hid from me by a high wall enclosing a + courtlage in front. One stunted ash, with boughs tortured and bent toward + the mainland, stood by the gate, which was lock’d. A smaller door, also + lock’d, was let into the gate, and in this again a shuttered iron grating. + Hard by, dangled a rusty bell-pull, at which I tugg’d sturdily. + </p> + <p> + On this, a crack’d bell sounded, far in the house, and scared a flock of + starlings out of a disused chimney. Their cries died away presently, and + left no sound but that of the gulls wailing about the cliff at my feet. + This was all the answer I won. + </p> + <p> + I rang again, and a third time: and now at last came the sound of + footsteps shuffling across the court within. The shutter of the grating + was slipp’d back, and a voice, crack’d as the bell, asked my business. + </p> + <p> + “To see Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” answered I. “Thy name?” + </p> + <p> + “He shall hear it in time. Say that I come on business concerning the + estate.” + </p> + <p> + The voice mutter’d something, and the footsteps went back. I had been + kicking my heels there for twenty minutes or more when they returned, and + the voice repeated the question— + </p> + <p> + “Thy name?” + </p> + <p> + Being by this time angered, I did a foolish thing; which was, to clap the + muzzle of my pistol against the grating, close to the fellow’s nose. + Singular to say, the trick serv’d me. A bolt was slipp’d hastily back and + the wicket door opened stealthily. + </p> + <p> + “I want,” said I, “room for my horse to pass.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon more grumbling follow’d, and a prodigious creaking of bolts and + chains; after which the big gate swung stiffly back. + </p> + <p> + “Sure, you must be worth a deal,” I said, “that shut yourselves in so + careful.” + </p> + <p> + Before me stood a strange fellow—extraordinary old and bent, with a + wizen’d face, one eye only, and a chin that almost touched his nose. He + wore a dirty suit of livery, that once had been canary-yellow; and shook + with the palsy. + </p> + <p> + “Master Tingcomb will see the young man,” he squeak’d, nodding his head; + “but is a-reading just now in his Bible.” + </p> + <p> + “A pretty habit,” answered I, leading in Molly—“if unseasonable. But + why not have said so?” + </p> + <p> + He seem’d to consider this for a while, and then said abruptly— + </p> + <p> + “Have some pasty and some good cider?” + </p> + <p> + “Why yes,” I said, “with all my heart, when I have stabled the sorrel + here.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way across the court, well paved but chok’d with weeds, toward + the stable. I found it a spacious building, and counted sixteen stalls + there; but all were empty save two, where stood the horses I had seen in + Bodmin the day before. Having stabled Molly, I left the place (which was + thick with cobwebs) and follow’d the old servant into the house. + </p> + <p> + He took me into a great stone kitchen, and brought out the pasty and + cider, but poured out half a glass only. + </p> + <p> + “Have a care, young man: ’tis a luscious, thick, seductive drink,” and he + chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “’Twould turn the edge of a knife,” said I, tasting it and looking at him: + but his one blear’d eye was inscrutable. The pasty also was mouldy, and I + soon laid it down. + </p> + <p> + “Hast a proud stomach that cometh of faring sumptuously: the beef therein + is our own killing,” said he. “Young sir, art a man of blood, I greatly + fear, by thy long sword and handiness with the firearms.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall be presently,” answered I, “if you lead me not to Master Tingcomb.” + </p> + <p> + He scrambled up briskly and totter’d out of the kitchen into a stone + corridor, I after him. Along this he hurried, muttering all the way, and + halted before a door at the end. Without knocking he pushed it open, and + motioning me to enter, hasten’d back as he had come. + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” said a voice that seem’d familiar to me. + </p> + <p> + Though, as you know, ’twas still high day, in the room where now I found + myself was every appearance of night: the shutters being closed, and six + lighted candles standing on the table. Behind them sat the venerable + gentleman whom I had seen in the coach, now wearing a plain suit of black, + and reading in a great book that lay open on the table. I guess’d it to be + the Bible; but noted that the candles had shades about them, so disposed + as to throw the light, not on the page, but on the doorway where I stood. + </p> + <p> + Yet the old gentleman, having bid me enter, went on reading for a while as + though wholly unaware of me: which I found somewhat nettling, so began— + </p> + <p> + “I speak, I believe, to Master Hannibal Tingcomb, steward to Sir Deakin + Killigrew.” + </p> + <p> + He went on, as if ending his sentence aloud: “... And my darling from the + power of the dog.” Here he paused with finger on the place and looked up. + “Yes, young sir, that is my name—steward to the late Sir Deakin + Killigrew.” + </p> + <p> + “The late?” cried I: “Then you know—” + </p> + <p> + “Surely I know that Sir Deakin is dead: else should I be but an unworthy + steward.” He open’d his grave eyes as if in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “And his son, also?” + </p> + <p> + “Also his son Anthony, a headstrong boy, I fear me, a consorter with vile + characters. Alas? that I should say it.” + </p> + <p> + “And his daughter, Mistress Delia?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” and he fetched a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean, sir, that she too is dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to be sure-but let us talk on less painful matters.” + </p> + <p> + “In one moment, sir: but first tell me—where did she die, and when?” + </p> + <p> + For my heart stood still, and I was fain to clutch the table between us to + keep me from falling. I think this did not escape him, for he gave me a + sharp look, and then spoke very quiet and hush’d, + </p> + <p> + “She was cruelly kill’d by highwaymen, at the ‘Three Cups’ inn, some miles + out of Hungerford. The date given me is the 3d of December last.” + </p> + <p> + With this a great rush of joy came over me, and I blurted out, delighted— + </p> + <p> + “There, sir, you are wrong! Her father was kill’d on the night of which + you speak—cruelly enough, as you say: but Mistress Delia Killigrew + escaped, and after the most incredible adventures—” + </p> + <p> + I was expecting him to start up with joy at my announcement; but instead + of this, he gaz’d at me very sorrowfully and shook his head; which brought + me to a stand. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” I said, changing my tone, “I speak but what I know: for ’twas I had + the happy fortune to help her to escape, and, under God’s hand, to bring + her safe to Cornwall.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, where is she now?” + </p> + <p> + Now this was just what I could not tell. So, standing before him, I gave + him my name and a history of all my adventures in my dear comrade’s + company, from the hour when I saw her first in the inn at Hungerford. + Still keeping his finger on the page, he heard me to the end attentively, + but with a curling of the lips toward the close, such as I did not like. + And when I had done, to my amaze he spoke out sharply, and as if to a + whipp’d schoolboy. + </p> + <p> + “’Tis a cock-and-bull story, sir, of which I could hope to make you + ashamed. Six weeks in your company? and in boy’s habit? Surely ’twas + enough the pure unhappy maid should be dead—without such vile + slander on her fame, and from you, that were known, sir, to have been at + that inn, and on that night, with her murderers. Boy, I have evidence + that, taken with your confession, would weave you a halter; and am a + Justice of the Peace. Be thankful, then, that I am a merciful man; yet be + abash’d.” + </p> + <p> + Abash’d, indeed, I was; or at least taken aback, to see his holy + indignation and the flush on his waxen cheek. Like a fool I stood + staggered, and wondered dimly where I had heard that thin voice before. In + the confusion of my senses I heard it say solemnly— + </p> + <p> + “The sins of her fathers have overtaken her, as the Book of Exodus + proclaim’d: therefore is her inheritance wasted, and given to the satyr + and the wild ass.” + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: “What did you in Oxford last November?”—Page 219.] + </p> + <p> + “And which of the twain be you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + I cannot tell what forced this violent rudeness from me, for he seem’d an + honest, good man; but my heart was boiling that any should put so ill a + construction on my Delia. As for him, he had risen, and was moving with + dignity to the door—to show me out, as I guess. When suddenly I, + that had been staring stupidly, leap’d upon him and hurled him back into + his chair. + </p> + <p> + For I had marked his left foot trailing, and, by the token, knew him for + the white hair’d man of the bowling-green. + </p> + <p> + “Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” I spoke in his ear, “—dog and murderer! + What did you in Oxford last November? And how of Captain Lucius Higgs, + otherwise Captain Luke Settle, otherwise Mr. X.? Speak, before I serve you + as the dog was served that night!” + </p> + <p> + I dream yet, in my sick nights, of the change that came over the vile, + hypocritical knave at these words of mine. To see his pale venerable face + turn green and livid, his eyeball start, his hands clutch at air—it + frighten’d me. + </p> + <p> + “Brandy!” he gasped. “Brandy! there—quick—for God’s sake!” + </p> + <p> + And the next moment he had slipp’d from my grasp, and was wallowing in a + fit on the floor. I ran to the cupboard at which he had pointed, and + finding there a bottle of strong waters, forced some drops between his + teeth; and hard work it was, he gnashing at me all the time and foaming at + the mouth. + </p> + <p> + Presently he ceased to writhe and bite: and lifting, I set him in his + chair, where he lay, a mere limp bundle, staring and blinking. So I sat + down facing him, and waited his recovery. + </p> + <p> + “Dear young sir,” he began at length feebly, his fingers searching the + Bible before him, from force of habit. “Kind young sir—I am an old, + dying man, and my sins have found me out. Only yesterday, the physician at + Bodmin told me that my days are numbered. This is the second attack, and + the third will kill me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said I. “If—if Mistress Delia be alive (as indeed I + did not think), I will make restitution—I will confess—only + tell me what to do, that I may die in peace.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, he look’d pitiable, sitting there and stammering: but I harden’d + my heart to say— + </p> + <p> + “I must have a confession, then, written before I leave the room.” + </p> + <p> + “But, dear young friend, you will not use it if I give up all? You will + not seek my life? that already is worthless, as you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, ’tis what you deserve. But Delia shall say when I find her—as + I shall go straight to seek her. If she be lost, I shall use it—never + fear: if she be found, it shall be hers to say what mercy she can discover + in her heart; but I promise you I shall advise none.” + </p> + <p> + The tears by this were coursing down his shrunken cheeks, but I observ’d + him watch me narrowly, as though to find out how much I knew. So I pull’d + out my pistol, and setting pen and paper before him, obtained at the end + of an hour a very pretty confession of his sins, which lies among my + papers to this day. When ’twas written and sign’d, in a weak, rambling + hand, I read it through, folded it, placed it inside my coat, and prepared + to take my leave. + </p> + <p> + But he called out an order to the old servant to saddle my mare, and stood + softly praying and beseeching me in the courtyard till the last moment. + Nor when I was mounted would anything serve but he must follow at my + stirrup to the gate. But when I had briefly taken leave, and the heavy + doors had creaked behind me, I heard a voice calling after me down the + road— + </p> + <p> + “Dear young sir! Dear friend!—I had forgotten somewhat.” + </p> + <p> + Returning, I found the gate fastened, and the iron shutter slipp’d back. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” I asked, leaning toward it. + </p> + <p> + “Dear young friend, I pity thee, for thy paper is worthless. To-day, by my + advices, the army of our most Christian Parliament, more than twenty + thousand strong, under the Earl of Stamford, have overtaken thy friends, + the malignant gentry, near Stratton Heath, in the northeast. They are more + than two to one. By this hour to-morrow, the Papists all will be running + like conies to their burrows, and little chance wilt thou have to seek + Delia Killigrew, much less to find her. And remember, I know enough of thy + late services to hang thee: mercy then will lie in my friends’ hands; but + be sure I shall advise none.” + </p> + <p> + And with a mocking laugh he clapp’d—to the grating in my face. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XV. — I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS. + </h2></div> + <p> + You may guess how I felt at being thus properly fooled. And the worst was + I could see no way to mend it; for against the barricade between us I + might have beat myself for hours, yet only hurt my fists: and the wall was + so smooth and high, that even by standing on Molly’s back I could not—by + a foot or more—reach the top to pull myself over. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing for it but to turn homewards, down the hill: which I + did, chewing the cud of my folly, and finding it bitter as gall. What + consoled me somewhat was the reflection that his threats were, likely + enough, mere vaporing: for of any breach of the late compact between the + parties I had heard nothing, and never seem’d a country more wholly given + up to peace than that through which I had ridden in the morning. So + recalling Master Tingcomb’s late face of terror, and the confession in my + pocket, I felt more cheerful. “England has grown a strange place, if I + cannot get justice on this villain,” thought I; and rode forward, planning + a return-match and a sweet revenge. + </p> + <p> + There is no more soothing game, I believe, in the world than this of + holding imaginary triumphant discourse with your enemy. Yet (oddly) it + brought me but cold comfort on this occasion, my wound being too recent + and galling. The sky, so long clouded, was bright’ning now, and growing + serener every minute: the hills were thick with fox-gloves, the vales + white with hawthorn, smelling very sweetly in the cool of the day: but I, + with the bridle flung on Molly’s neck, pass’d them by, thinking only of my + discomfiture, and barely rousing myself to give back a “Good-day” to those + that met me on the road. Nor, till we were on the downs and Joan’s cottage + came in sight, did I shake the brooding off. + </p> + <p> + Joan was not in the kitchen when I arrived, nor about the buildings; nor + yet could I spy her anywhere moving on the hills. So, after calling to her + once or twice, I stabled the mare, and set off up the tor side to seek + her. + </p> + <p> + Now I must tell you that since the day of my coming I had made many + attempts to find the place where Joan had then hidden me, and always + fruitlessly: though I knew well whereabouts it must be. Indeed, I had + thought at first I had only to walk straight to the hole: yet found after + repeated trials but solid earth and boulders for my pains. + </p> + <p> + But to-day as I climb’d past the spot, something very bright flashed in my + eyes and dazzled me, and rubbing them and looking, I saw a great hole in + the hill—facing to the sou’-west—in the very place I had + search’d for it; and out of this a beam of light glancing. + </p> + <p> + Creeping near on tiptoe, I found one huge block of granite that before had + seemed bedded, among a dozen fellow-boulders, against the turf—the + base resting on another well-nigh as big—was now rolled back; having + been fixed to work smoothly on a pivot, yet so like nature that no eye, + but by chance, could detect it. Now, who in the beginning designed this + hiding place I leave you to consider; and whether it was the Jews or + Phoenicians—nations, I am told, that once work’d the hills around + for tin. But inside ’twas curiously paved and lined with slabs of granite, + the specks of ore in which, I noted, were the points of light that had + once puzzled me. And here was Joan’s bower, and Joan herself inside it. + </p> + <p> + She was sitting with her back to me, in her left hand holding up the + mirror, that caught the rays of the now sinking sun (and thus had dazzled + me), while with her right she tried to twist into some form of knot her + tresses—black, and coarse as a horse’s mane—that already she + had roughly braided. A pail of water stood beside her; and around lay + scatter’d a score or more of long thorns, cut to the shape of hair pins. + </p> + <p> + ’Tis probable that after a minute’s watching I let some laughter escape + me. At any rate Joan turned, spied me, and scrambled up, with an angry red + on her cheek. Then I saw that her bodice was neater lac’d than usual, and + a bow of yellow ribbon (fish’d up heaven knows whence) stuck in the bosom. + But the strangest thing was to note the effect of this new tidiness upon + her: for she took a step forward as if to cuff me by the ear (as, a day + agone, she would have done), and then stopp’d, very shy and hesitating. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Joan,” said I, “don’t be anger’d. It suits you choicely—it + does indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Art scoffing, I doubt.” She stood looking heavily and askance at me. + </p> + <p> + “On my faith, no: and what a rare tiring-bower the Jew’s Kitchen makes! + Come, Joan, be debonair and talk to me, for I am out of luck to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgit it, then” (and she pointed to the sun), “whiles yet some o’t is + left. Tell me a tale, an thou’rt minded.” + </p> + <p> + “Of what?” + </p> + <p> + “O’ the bloodiest battle thou’st ever heard tell on.” + </p> + <p> + So, sitting by the mouth of the Jew’s Kitchen, I told her as much as I + could remember out of Homer’s Iliad, wondering the while what my tutor, + Mr. Josias How, of Trinity College, would think to hear me so use his + teaching. By-and-bye, as I warm’d to the tale, Joan forgot her new + smartness; and at length, when Hector was running from Achilles round the + walls, clapp’d her hands for excitement, crying, “Church an’ King, lad! + Oh, brave work!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” answered I, “’twas not for that they were fighting;” and + looking at her, broke off with, “Joan, art certainly a handsome girl: give + me a kiss for the mirror.” + </p> + <p> + Instead of flying out, as I look’d for, she fac’d round, and answered me + gravely— + </p> + <p> + “That I will not: not to any but my master.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is that?” + </p> + <p> + “No man yet; nor shall be till one has beat me sore: him will I love, an’ + follow like a dog—if so be he whack me often enow’.” + </p> + <p> + “A strange way to love,” laughed I. She look’d at me straight, + albeit with an odd gloomy light in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Think so, Jack? then I give thee leave to try.” + </p> + <p> + I think there is always a brutality lurking in a man to leap out unawares. + Yet why do I seek excuses, that have never yet found one? To be plain, I + sprang fiercely up and after Joan, who had already started, and was racing + along the slope. + </p> + <p> + Twice around the tor she led me: and though I strain’d my best, not a yard + could I gain upon her, for her bare feet carried her light and free. + Indeed, I was losing ground, when coming to the Jew’s Kitchen a second + time, she tried to slip inside and shut the stone in my face. + </p> + <p> + Then should I have been prettily bemock’d, had I not, with a great effort, + contrived to thrust my boot against the door just as it was closing. + Wrenching it open, I laid hand on her shoulder; and in a moment she had + gripp’d me, and was wrestling like a wild-cat. + </p> + <p> + Now being Cumberland-bred I knew only the wrestling of my own county, and + nothing of the Cornish style. For in the north they stand well apart, and + try to wear down one another’s strength: whereas the Cornish is a brisker + lighter play—and (as I must confess) prettier to watch. So when Joan + rush’d in and closed with me, I was within an ace of being thrown, pat. + </p> + <p> + But recovering, I got her at arm’s length, and held her so, while my heart + ach’d to see my fingers gripping her shoulders and sinking into the flesh. + I begg’d off; but she only fought and panted, and struggled to lock me by + the ankles again. I could not have dream’d to find such fierce strength in + a girl. Once or twice she nearly overmastered me: but at length my + stubborn play wore her out. Her breath came short and fast, then fainter: + and in the end, still holding her off, I turned her by the shoulders, and + let her drop quietly on the turf. No thought had I any longer of kissing + her; but stood back, heartily sick and ashamed of myself. + </p> + <p> + For awhile she lay, turn’d over on her side, with hands guarding her head, + as if expecting me to strike her. Then gathering herself up, she came and + put her hand in mine, very meekly. + </p> + <p> + “Had lik’d it better had’st thou stamped the life out o’ me, a’most. But + there, lad—am thine forever!” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas like a buffet in the face to me. “What!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + She look’d up in my face—dear Heaven, that I should have to write + it!—with eyes brimful, sick with love; tried to speak, but could + only nod: and broke into a wild fit of tears. + </p> + <p> + I was standing there with her hand in mine, and a burning remorse in my + heart, when I heard the clear notes of a bugle blown, away on the road to + Launceston. + </p> + <p> + Looking that way, I saw a great company of horse coming down over the + crest, the sun shining level on their arms and a green standard that they + bore in their midst. + </p> + <p> + Joan spied them the same instant, and check’d her sobs. Without a word we + flung ourselves down full length on the turf to watch. + </p> + <p> + They were more than a thousand, as I guess’d, and came winding down the + road very orderly, till, being full of them, it seem’d a long serpent + writhing with shiny scales. The tramp of hoofs and jingling of bits were + pretty to hear. + </p> + <p> + “Rebels!” whisper’d I. Joan nodded. + </p> + <p> + There were three regiments in all, whereof the first (and biggest) was of + dragoons. So clear was the air, I could almost read the legend on their + standard, and the calls of their captains were borne up to us extremely + distinct. + </p> + <p> + As they rode leisurely past, I thought of Master Tingcomb’s threat, and + wonder’d what this array could intend. Nor, turning it over, could I find + any explanation: for the Earl of Stamford’s gathering, he had said, was in + the northeast, and I knew such troops as the Cornish generals had to be + quarter’d at Launceston. Yet here, on the near side of Launceston, was a + large body of rebel horse marching quietly to the sou’-west. Where was the + head or tail to it? + </p> + <p> + Turning my head as the last rider disappear’d on the way to Bodmin, I + spied a squat oddly shap’d man striding down the hill very briskly: yet he + look’d about him often and kept to the hollows of the ground; and was + crossing below us, as it appeared, straight for Joan’s cottage. + </p> + <p> + Cried I: “There is but one man in the world with such a gait—and + that’s Billy Pottery!” + </p> + <p> + And jumping to my feet (for he was come directly beneath us) I caught up a + great stone and sent it bowling down the slope. + </p> + <p> + Bounce it went past him, missing his legs by a foot or less. The man + turn’d, and catching sight of me as I stood waving, made his way up the + hill. ’Twas indeed Captain Bilty: and coming up, the honest fellow almost + hugg’d me for joy. + </p> + <p> + “Was seeking thee, Jack,” he bawled: “learn’d from Sir Bevill where belike + I might find thee. Left his lodging at Launceston this mornin’, and + trudged ivery foot o’ the way. A thirsty land, Jack—neither horse’s + meat nor man’s meat therein, nor a chair to sit down on: an’ three women + only have I kiss’d this day!” He broke off and look’d at Joan. “Beggin’ + the lady’s pardon for sea manners and way o’ speech.” + </p> + <p> + “Joan,” said I, “this is Billy Pottery, a good mariner and friend of mine: + and as deaf as a haddock.” + </p> + <p> + Billy made a leg; and as I pointed to the road where the cavalry had just + disappeared, went on with a nod— + </p> + <p> + “That’s so: old Sir G’arge Chudleigh’s troop o’ horse sent off to Bodmin + to seize the High Sheriff and his <i>posse</i> there. Two hour agone I + spied ’em, and ha’ been ever since playin’ spy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then where be the King’s forces?” I made shift to enquire by signs. + </p> + <p> + “March’d out o’ Launceston to-day, lad—an’ but a biscuit a man + between ’em, poor dears—for Stratton Heath, i’ the nor’-east, where + the rebels be encamp’d. Heard by scouts o’ these gentry bein’ sent to + Bodmin, and were minded to fight th’ Earl o’ Stamford whiles his + dragooners was away. An’ here’s the long an’ short o’t: thou’rt wanted, + lad, to bear a hand wi’ us up yonder—an the good lady here can spare + thee.” + </p> + <p> + And here we both look’d at Joan—I shamefacedly enough, and Billy + with a puzzled air, which he tried very delicately to hide. + </p> + <p> + She put her hand in mine. + </p> + <p> + “To fight, lad?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded my head. + </p> + <p> + “Then go,” she said without a shade in her voice; and as I made no answer, + went on—“Shall a woman hinder when there’s fightin’ toward? Only + come back when thy wars be over, for I shall miss thee, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + And dropping my hand she led the way down to the cottage. + </p> + <p> + Now Billy, of course, had not heard a word of this: but perhaps he + gathered some import. Any way, he pull’d up short midway on the slope, + scratched his head, and thunder’d— + </p> + <p> + “What a good lass!” + </p> + <p> + Joan, some paces ahead, turn’d at this and smil’d: whereat, having no idea + he’d spoken above a whisper, Billy blush’d red as any peony. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas but a short half hour when, the mare being saddled and Billy fed, we + took our leave of Joan. Billy walked beside one stirrup, and the girl on + the other side, to see us a few yards on our way. At length she halted— + </p> + <p> + “No leave-takin’s, Jack, but ‘Church and King!’ Only do thy best and not + disgrace me.” + </p> + <p> + And “Church and King!” she call’d thrice after us, standing in the road. + For me, as I rode up out of that valley, the drums seem’d beating and the + bugles calling to a new life ahead. The last light of day was on the tors, + the air blowing fresher as we mounted: and with Molly’s every step the + past five months appear’d to dissolve and fall away from me as a dream. + </p> + <p> + On the crest, I turn’d in the saddle. Joan was yet standing there, a black + speck on the road. She waved her hand once. + </p> + <p> + Billy had turn’d too, and, uncovering, shouted so that the hilltops + echoed. + </p> + <p> + “A good lass—a good lass! But what’s become o’ t’other one?” + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XVI. — THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH. + </h2></div> + <p> + Night came, and found us but midway between Temple and Launceston: for + tho’ my comrade stepp’d briskly beside me, ’twas useless to put Molly + beyond a walk; and besides, the mare was new from her day’s journey. This + troubled me the less by reason of the moon (now almost at the full), and + the extreme whiteness of the road underfoot, so that there was no fear of + going astray. And Billy engaged that by sunrise we should be in sight of + the King’s troops. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Jack,” he said, when by signs I offered him to ride and tie: “never + rode o’ horseback but once, and then ’pon Parson Spinks his red mare at + Bideford. Parson i’ those days was courtin’ the Widow Hambly, over to + Torrington: an’ I, that wanted to fare to Barnstaple, spent that mornin’ + an’ better part o’ th’ afternoon, clawin’ off Torrington. And th’ end was + the larboard halyards broke, an’ the mare gybed, an’ to Torrington I went + before the wind, wi’ an unseemly bloody nose. ‘Lud!’ cries the widow, + ‘’tis the wrong man ’pon the right horse!’ ‘Pardon, mistress,’ says I, + ‘the man is well enow, but ’pon the wrong horse, for sure.’” + </p> + <p> + Now and then, as we went, I would dismount and lead Molly by the bridle + for a mile or so: and all the way to Launceston Billy was recounting his + adventures since our parting. It appeared that, after leaving me, they had + come to Plymouth with a fair passage: but before they could unlade, had + advertisement of the Governor’s design to seize all vessels then riding in + the Sound, for purposes of war; and so made a quick escape by night into + Looe Haven, where they had the fortune to part with the best part of their + cargo at a high profit. ’Twas while unlading here that Billy had a mind to + pay a debt he ow’d to a cousin of his at Altarnun, and, leaving Matt + Soames in charge, had tramped northward through Liskeard to Launceston, + where he found the Cornish forces, and was met by the news of the Earl of + Stamford’s advance in the northeast. Further meeting, in Sir Bevill’s + troop, with some north coast men of his acquaintance, he fell to talking, + and so learn’d about me and my ride toward Braddock, which (it seem’d) was + now become common knowledge. This led him to seek Sir Bevill, with the + result that you know: “for,” as he wound up, “’tis a desirable an’ rare + delight to pay a debt an’ see some fun, together.” + </p> + <p> + We had some trouble at Launceston gate, where were a few burghers posted + for sentries, and, as I could see, ready to take fright at their own + shadows. But Billy gave the watchword (“One and All”), and presently they + let us through. As we pass’d along the street we marked a light in every + window almost, tho’ ’twas near midnight; and the people moving about + behind their curtains. There were groups too in the dark doorways, + gather’d there discussing, that eyed us as we went by, and answered + Billy’s <i>Good-night, honest men!</i> very hoarse and doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + But when we were beyond the town, and between hedges again, I think I must + have dozed off in my saddle. For, though this was a road full of sharp + memories, being the last I had traveled with Delia, I have no remembrance + to have felt them; or, indeed, of noting aught but the fresh night air, + and the constellation of the Bear blazing ahead, and Billy’s voice + resonant beside me. + </p> + <p> + And after this I can recall passing the tower of Marham Church, with the + paling sky behind it, and some birds chattering in the carved courses: and + soon (it seem’d) felt Billy’s grip on my knee, and open’d my eyes to see + his finger pointing. + </p> + <p> + We stood on a ridge above a hollow vale into which the sun, though now + bright, did not yet pierce, but passing over to a high, conical hill + beyond, smote level on line after line of white tents—the prettiest + sight! ’Twas the enemy there encamped on the top and some way down the + sides, the smoke of their trampled watch fires still curling among the + gorsebushes. I heard their trumpets calling and drums beating to arms; for + though, glancing back at the sun, I judged it to be hardly past four in + the morning, yet already the slopes were moving like an ant-hill—the + regiments gathering, arms flashing, horsemen galloping to and fro, and the + captains shouting their commands. In the distance this had a sweet and + cheerful sound, no more disquieting than a ploughboy calling to his team. + </p> + <p> + Looking down into the valley at our feet, at first I saw no sign of our + own troops—only the roofs of a little town, with overmuch smoke + spread above it, like a morning mist. But here also I heard the church + bells clashing and a drum beating, and presently spied a gleam of arms + down among the trees, and then a regiment of foot moving westward along + the base of the hill. ’Twas evident the battle was at hand, and we + quicken’d our pace down into the street. + </p> + <p> + It lay on the slope, and midway down we pass’d some watch fires burn’d + out; and then a soldier or two running and fastening their straps; and + last a little child, that seem’d wild with the joy of living amid great + events, but led us pretty straight to the sign of “The Tree,” which indeed + was the only tavern. + </p> + <p> + It stood some way back from the street, with a great elm before the porch: + where by a table sat two men, with tankards beside them, and a small + company of grooms and soldiers standing round. Both men were more than + ordinary tall and soldier like: only the bigger wore a scarlet cloak very + richly lac’d, and was shouting orders to his men; while the other, dress’d + in plain buff suit and jack boots, had a map spread before him, which he + studied very attentively, writing therein with a quill pen. + </p> + <p> + “What a plague have we here?” cries the big man, as we drew up. + </p> + <p> + “Recruits if it please you, sir,” said I, dismounting and pulling off my + hat, tho’ his insolent tone offended me. + </p> + <p> + “S’lid! The boy speaks as if he were a regiment,” growls he, half aloud: + “Can’st fight?” + </p> + <p> + “That, with your leave, sir, is what I am come to try.” + </p> + <p> + “And this rascal?” He turned on Billy. + </p> + <p> + Billy heard not a word, of course, yet answered readily— + </p> + <p> + “Why, since your honor is so pleasantly minded—let it be cider.” + </p> + <p> + Now the first effect of this, deliver’d with all force of lung, was to + make the big man sit bolt upright and staring: recovering speech, however, + he broke into a volley of blasphemous curses. + </p> + <p> + All this while the man in buff had scarce lifted his eyes off the map. But + now he looks up—and I saw at the first glance that the two men hated + each other. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said he quietly, “my Lord Mohun has forgot to ask the <i>gentleman’s</i> + name.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Marvel, sir—John Marvel.” I answer’d him with a bow. + </p> + <p> + “Hey!”—and dropping his pen he starts up and grasps my hand—“Then + ’tis you I have never thanked for His Gracious Majesty’s letter.” + </p> + <p> + “The General Hopton?” cried I. “Even so, sir. My lord,” he went + on, still holding my hand and turning to his companion, “let me present to + you the gentleman that in January sav’d your house of Bocconnoc from + burning at the hands of the rebels—whom God confound this day!” He + lifted his hat. + </p> + <p> + “Amen,” said I, as his lordship bowed, exceedingly sulky. But I did not + value his rage, being hot with joy to be so beprais’d by the first captain + (as I yet hold) on the royal side. Who now, not without a sly triumph, + flung the price of Billy’s cider on the table and, folding up his map, + address’d me again— + </p> + <p> + “Master Marvel, the fight to-day will lie but little with the horse—or + so I hope. You will do well, if your wish be to serve us best, to leave + your mare behind. The troop which my Lord Mohun and I command together is + below. But Sir Bevill Grenville, who has seen and is interested in you, + has the first claim: and I would not deny you the delight to fight your + first battle under so good a master. His men are, with Sir John Berkeley’s + troop, a little to the westward: and if you are ready I will go some + distance with you, and put you in the way to find him. My lord, may we + look for you presently?” + </p> + <p> + The Lord Mohun nodded, surly enough: so, Billy’s cider being now drunk and + Molly given over to an ostler, we set out down the hill together, Billy + shouldering a pipe and walking after with the groom that led Sir Ralph’s + horse. Be sure the General’s courtly manner of speech set my blood + tingling. I seem’d to grow a full two inches taller; and when, in the + vale, we parted, he directing me to the left, where through a gap I could + see Sir Bevill’s troop forming at some five hundred paces’ distance, I + felt a very desperate warrior indeed; and set off at a run, with Billy + behind me. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas an open space we had to cross, dotted with gorsebushes; and the + enemy’s regiments, plain to see, drawn up in battalia on the slope above, + which here was gentler than to the south and west. But hardly had we gone + ten yards than I saw a puff of white smoke above, then another, and then + the summit ring’d with flame; and heard the noise of it roaring in the + hills around. At the first sound I pull’d up, and then began running again + at full speed: for I saw our division already in motion, and advancing up + the hill at a quick pace. + </p> + <p> + The curve of the slope hid all but the nearest: but above them I saw a + steep earthwork, and thereon three or four brass pieces of ordnance + glittering whenever the smoke lifted. For here the artillery was plying + the briskest, pouring down volley on volley; and four regiments at least + stood mass’d behind, ready to fall on the Cornish-men; who, answering with + a small discharge of musketry, now ran forward more nimbly. + </p> + <p> + To catch up with them, I must now turn my course obliquely up the hill, + where running was pretty toilsome. We were panting along when suddenly a + shower of sand and earth was dash’d in my face, spattering me all over. + Half-blinded, I look’d and saw a great round shot had ploughed a trench in + the ground at my feet, and lay there buried. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment, Billy, who was running at my shoulder, plumps down on + his knees and begins to whine and moan most pitiably. + </p> + <p> + “Art hurt, dear fellow?” asked I, turning. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack, Jack—I have no stomach for this! A cool, wet death at sea + I do not fear; only to have the great hot shot burning in a man’s belly—’tis + terrifying. I <i>hate</i> a swift death! Jack, I be a sinner—I will + confess: I lied to thee yesterday—never kiss’d the three maids I + spoke of—never kiss’d but one i’ my life, an’ her a tap-wench, that + slapp’d my face for ’t, an’ so don’t properly count. I be a very boastful + man!” + </p> + <p> + Now I myself had felt somewhat cold inside when the guns began roaring: + but this set me right in a trice. I whipp’d a pistol out of my sash and + put the cold ring to his ear: and he scrambled up; and was a very lion all + the rest of the day. + </p> + <p> + But now we had again to change our course, for to my dismay I saw a line + of sharpshooters moving down among the gorsebushes, to take the Cornishmen + in flank. And ’twas lucky we had but a little way further to go; for these + skirmishers, thinking perhaps from my dress and our running thus that we + bore some message open’d fire on us: and tho’ they were bad marksmen, + ’twas ugly to see their bullets pattering into the turf, to right and + left. + </p> + <p> + We caught up the very last line of the ascending troop—lean, hungry + looking men, with wan faces, but shouting lustily. I think they were about + three hundred in all. “Come on, lad,” called out a bearded fellow with a + bandage over one eye, making room for me at his side; “there’s work for + plenty more!”—and a minute after, a shot took him in the ribs, and + he scream’d out “Oh, my God!” and flinging up his arms, leap’d a foot in + air and fell on his face. + </p> + <p> + Pressing up, I noted that the first line was now at the foot of the + earthwork; and, in a minute, saw their steel caps and crimson sashes + swarming up the face of it, and their pikes shining. But now came a shock, + and the fellow in front was thrust back into my arms. I reeled down a pace + or two and then, finding foothold, stood pushing. And next, the whole body + came tumbling back on me, and down the hill we went flying, with oaths and + cries. Three of the rebel regiments had been flung on us and by sheer + weight bore us before them. At the same time the sharpshooters pour’d in a + volley: and I began to see how a man may go through a battle, and be beat, + without striking a blow. + </p> + <p> + But in the midst of this scurry I heard the sound of cheering. ’Twas Sir + John Berkeley’s troop (till now posted under cover of the hedges below) + that had come to our support; and the rebels, fearing to advance too far, + must have withdrawn again behind their earthwork, for after a while the + pressure eas’d a bit, and, to my amaze, the troop which but a minute since + was a mere huddled crowd, formed in some order afresh, and once more began + to climb. This time, I had a thick-set pikeman in front of me, with a big + wen at the back of his neck that seem’d to fix all my attention. And up we + went, I counting the beat of my heart that was already going hard and + short with the work; and then, amid the rattle and thunder of their guns, + we stopp’d again. + </p> + <p> + I had taken no notice of it, but in the confusion of the first repulse the + greater part of our men had been thrust past me, so that now I found + myself no further back than the fourth rank, and at the very foot of the + earthwork, up the which our leaders were flung like a wave; and soon I was + scrambling after them, ankle deep in the sandy earth, the man with the wen + just ahead, grinding my instep with his heel and poking his pike staff + between my knees as he slipp’d. + </p> + <p> + And just at the moment when the top of our wave was cleaving a small + breach above us, he fell on the flat of his pike, with his nose buried in + the gravel and his hands clutching. Looking up I saw a tall rebel + straddling above him with musket clubb’d to beat his brains out: whom with + an effort I caught by the boot; and, the bank slipping at that instant, + down we all slid in a heap, a jumble of arms and legs, to the very bottom. + </p> + <p> + Before I had the sand well out of my eyes, my comrade was up and had his + pike loose; and in a twinkling, the rebel was spitted through the middle + and writhing. ’Twas sickening: but before I could pull out my pistol and + end his pain (as I was minded), back came our front rank a-top of us + again, and down they were driven like sheep, my companion catching up the + dead man’s musket and ammunition bag, and I followed down the slope with + three stout rebels at my heels. “What will be the end of <i>this?</i>” + thought I. The end was, that after forty yards or so, finding the + foremost close upon me, I turn’d about and let fly with my pistol at him. + He spun round twice and dropp’d: which I was wondering at (the pistol + being but a poor weapon for aim) when I was caught by the arm and pull’d + behind a clump of bushes handy by. ’Twas the man with the wen, and by his + smoking musket I knew that ’twas he had fired the shot that killed my + pursuer. + </p> + <p> + “Good turn for good turn,” says he: “quick with thy other pistol!” + </p> + <p> + The other two had stopped doubtfully, but at the next discharge of my + pistol they turn’d tail and went up the hill again, and we were left + alone. And suddenly I grew aware that my head was aching fit to split, and + lay down on the turf, very sick and ill. + </p> + <p> + My comrade took no notice of this, but, going for the dead man’s musket, + kept loading and firing, pausing now and then for his artillery to cool, + and whistling a tune that runs in my head to this day. And all the time I + heard shouts and cries and the noise of musketry all around, which made me + judge that the attack was going on in many places at once. When I came to + myself ’twas to hear a bugle below calling again to the charge, and once + more came the two troops ascending. At their head was a slight built man, + bare-headed, with the sun (that was by this, high over the hill) smiting + on his brown curls, and the wind blowing them. He carried a naked sword in + his hand, and waved his men forward as cheerfully as though ’twere a dance + and he leading out his partner. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that yonder?” asked I, sitting up and pointing. + </p> + <p> + “Bless thy innocent heart!” said my comrade, “dostn’t thee know? Tis Sir + Bevill.” + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + ’Twould be tedious to tell the whole of this long fight, which, beginning + soon after sunrise, ended not till four in the afternoon, or thereabouts: + and indeed of the whole my recollection is but of continual advance and + repulse on that same slope. And herein may be seen the wisdom of our + generals, in attacking while the main body of the enemy’s horse was away: + for had the Earl of Stamford possessed a sufficient force of dragoons to + let slip on us at the first discomfiture, there is little doubt he might + have ended the battle there and then. As it was, the horse stood out of + the fray, theirs upon the summit of the hill, ours (under Col. John Digby) + on the other slope, to protect the town and act as reserve. + </p> + <p> + The foot, in four parties, was disposed about the hill on all sides; to + the west—as we know—under Sir John Berkeley and Sir Bevill + Grenville; to the south under General Hopton and Lord Mohun; to the east + under the Colonels Tom Basset and William Godolphin; while the steep side + to the north was stormed by Sir Nicholas Slanning and Colonel Godolphin, + with their companies. And as we had but eight small pieces of cannon and + were in numbers less than one to two, all we had to do was to march up the + hill in face of their fire, catch a knock on the head, may be, grin, and + come on again. + </p> + <p> + But at three o’clock, we, having been for the sixth time beaten back, were + panting under cover of a hedge, and Sir John Berkeley, near by, was + writing on a drumhead some message to the camp, when there comes a young + man on horseback, his face smear’d with dirt and dust, and rides up to him + and Sir Bevill. ’Twas (I have since learn’d) to say that the powder was + all spent but a barrel or two: but this only the captains knew at the + time. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” cries Sir Bevill, leaping up gaily. “Come along, boys—we + must do it this time.” And, the troop forming, once more the trumpets + sounded the charge, and up we went. Away along the slope we heard the + other trumpeters sounding in answer, and I believe ’twas a <i>sursum + corda!</i> to all of us. + </p> + <p> + Billy Pottery was ranged on my right, in the first rank, and next to me, + on the other side, a giant, near seven foot high, who said his name was + Anthony Payne and his business to act as body-servant to Sir Bevill. And + he it was that struck up a mighty curious song in the Cornish tongue, + which the rest took up with a will. Twas incredible how it put fire into + them all: and Sir Bevill toss’d his hat into the air, and after him like + schoolboys we pelted, straight for the masses ahead. + </p> + <p> + For now over the rampart came a company of red musketeers, and two of + russet-clad pikemen, charging down on us. A moment, and we were crushed + back: another, and the chant rose again. We were grappling, hand to hand, + in the midst of their files. + </p> + <p> + But, good lack! What use is swordsmanship in a charge like this? The first + red coat that encounter’d me I had spitted through the lung, and, carried + on by the rush, he twirled me round like a windmill. In an instant I was + pass’d; the giant stepping before me and clearing a space about him, using + his pike as if ’twere a flail. With a wrench I tugg’d my sword out and + followed. I saw Sir Bevill, a little to the left, beaten to his knee, and + carried toward me. Stretching out a hand I pull’d him on his feet again, + catching, as I did so, a crack on the skull that would have ended me, had + not Billy Pottery put up his pike and broke the force of it. Next, I + remember gripping another red coat by the beard and thrusting at him with + shortened blade. Then the giant ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought + to rally round it; and with that I seem’d caught off my feet and swept + forward:—and we were on the crest. + </p> + <p> + Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man’s breath + off a pane. And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across to where, on + the north side, a white standard embroider’d with gold griffins was + mounting. + </p> + <p> + “’Tis dear Nick Slanning!” he cried; “God be prais’d—the day is ours + for certain!” + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XVII. — I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN + LIGHT. + </h2></div> + <p> + The rest of this signal victory (in which 1,700 prisoners were taken, + besides the Major-General Chudleigh; and all the rebels’ camp, cannon and + victuals) I leave historians to tell. For very soon after the rout was + assured (the plain below full of men screaming and running, and Col. John + Digby’s dragoons after them, chasing, cutting, and killing), a wet muzzle + was thrust into my hand, and turning, I found Molly behind me, with the + groom to whom I had given her in the morning. The rogue had counted on a + crown for his readiness, and swore the mare was ready for anything, he + having mix’d half a pint of strong ale with her mash, not half an hour + before. + </p> + <p> + So I determin’d to see the end of it, and paying the fellow, climb’d into + the saddle. On the summit the Cornish captains were now met, and cordially + embracing. ’Tis very sad in these latter times to call back their shouts + and boyish laughter, so soon to be quench’d on Lansdowne slopes, or by + Bristol graff. Yet, O favor’d ones!—to chase Victory, to grasp her + flutt’ring skirt, and so, with warm, panting cheeks, kissing her, to fall, + escaping evil days! + </p> + <p> + How could they laugh? For me, the late passionate struggle left me shaken + with sobs; and for the starting tears I saw neither moors around, nor sun, + nor twinkling sea. Brushing them away, I was aware of Billy Pottery + striding at my stirrup, and munching at a biscuit he had found in the + rebels’ camp. Said he, “In season, Jack, is in reason. There be times to + sing an’ to dance, to marry and to give in marriage; an’ likewise times to + become as wax: but now, lookin’ about an’ seein’ no haughty slaughterin’ + cannon but has a Cornishman seated ’pon the touch-hole of the same, says I + in my thoughtsome way, ‘Forbear!’” + </p> + <p> + Presently he pulls up before a rebel trooper, that was writhing on the + slope with a shatter’d thigh, yet raised himself on his fists to gaze on + us with wide, painful eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Good sirs,” gasp’d out the rebel, “can you tell me—where be Nat + Shipward?” + </p> + <p> + “Now how should I know?” I answer’d. + </p> + <p> + “’A had nutty-brown curls, an’ wore a red jacket—Oh, as straight a + young man as ever pitched hay! ’a sarved in General Chudleigh’s troop—a + very singular straight young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Death has taken a many such,” said I, and thought on the man I had run + through in our last charge. + </p> + <p> + The fellow groaned. “’A was my son,” he said: and though Billy pull’d out + a biscuit (his pockets bulged with them) and laid it beside him, he turn’d + from it, and sank back on the turf again. + </p> + <p> + We left him, and now, the descent being gentler, broke into a run, in + hopes to catch up with Col. John Digby’s dragoons, that already were far + across the next vale. The slope around us was piled with dead and dying, + whereof four out of every five were rebels; and cruelly they cursed us as + we passed them by. Night was coming on apace; and here already we were in + deep shadow, but could see the yellow sun on the hills beyond. We crossed + a stream at the foot, and were climbing again. Behind us the cheering yet + continued, though fainter: and fainter grew the cries and shouting in + front. Soon we turn’d into a lane over a steep hedge, under the which two + or three stout rebels were cowering. As we came tumbling almost atop of + them, they ran yelling: and we let them go in peace. + </p> + <p> + The lane gradually led us to westward, out of the main line of the rout, + and past a hamlet where every door was shut and all silent. And at last a + slice of the sea fronted us, between two steeply shelving hills. On the + crest of the road, before it plunged down toward the coast, was a wagon + lying against the hedge, with the horses gone: and beside it, stretch’d + across the road, an old woman. Stopping, we found her dead, with a + sword-thrust through the left breast; and inside the wagon a young man + lying, with his jaw bound up,—dead also. And how this sad spectacle + happened here, so far from the battlefield, was more than we could guess. + </p> + <p> + I was moving away, when Billy, that was kneeling in the road, chanced to + cast his eyes up toward the sea, and dropping the dead woman’s hand + scrambled on his feet and stood looking, with a puzzled face. + </p> + <p> + Following his gaze, I saw a small sloop moving under shorten’d canvas, + about two miles from the land. She made a pleasant sight, with the last + rays of sunlight flaming on her sails: but for Billy’s perturbation I + could not account, so turn’d an enquiring glance to him. + </p> + <p> + “Suthin’ i’ the wind out yonder,” was his answer: “What’s a sloop doing on + that ratch so close in by the point? Be dang’d! but there she goes again;”—as + the little vessel swung off a point or two further from the breeze, that + was breathing softly up Channel. “Time to sup, lad, for the both of us,” + he broke off shortly. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, I was faint with hunger by this time, yet had no stomach to eat + thus close to the dead. So turning into a gate on our left hand, we + cross’d two or three fields, and sat down to sup off Billy’s biscuits, the + mare standing quietly beside us, and cropping the short grass. + </p> + <p> + The field where we now found ourselves ran out along the top of a small + promontory, and ended, without fence of any sort, at the cliff’s edge. As + I sat looking southward, I could only observe the sloop by turning my + head: but Billy, who squatted over against me, hardly took his eyes off + her, and between this and his meal was too busy to speak a word. For me, I + had enough to do thinking over the late fight: and being near worn out, + had half a mind to spend the night there on the hard turf: for, though the + sun was now down and the landscape grey, yet the air was exceeding warm: + and albeit, as I have said, there breath’d a light breeze now and then, + ’twas hardly cool enough to dry the sweat off me. So I stretch’d myself + out, and found it very pleasant to lie still; nor, when Billy stood up and + sauntered off toward the far end of the headland, did I stir more than to + turn my head and lazily watch him. + </p> + <p> + He was gone half an hour at the least, and the sky by this time was so + dark, that I had lost sight of him, when, rising on my elbow to look + around, I noted a curious red glow at a point where the turf broke off, + not three hundred yards behind me, and a thin smoke curling up in it, as + it seem’d, from the very face of the cliff below. In a minute or so the + smoke ceased almost; but the shine against the sky continued steady, tho’ + not very strong. “Billy has lit a fire,” I guessed, and was preparing to + go and look, when I spied a black form crawling toward me, and presently + saw ’twas Billy himself. + </p> + <p> + Coming close, he halted, put a finger to his lip and beckoned: then began + to lead the way back as he had come. + </p> + <p> + Thought I, “these are queer doings:” but left Molly to browse, and crept + after him on hands and knees. He turn’d his head once to make sure I was + following, and then scrambled on quicker, but softly, toward the point + where the red glow was shining. + </p> + <p> + Once more he pull’d up—as I judg’d, about twelve paces’ distance + from the edge—and after considering for a second, began to move + again; only now he worked a little to the right. And soon I saw the + intention of this: for just here the cliff’s lip was cleft by a fissure—very + like that in Scawfell which we were used to call the <i>Lord’s Rake</i>, + only narrower—that ran back into the field and shelved out gently at + the top, so that a man might easily scramble some way down it, tho’ how + far I could not then tell. And ’twas from this fissure that the glow came. + </p> + <p> + Along the right lip of this Billy led me, skirting it by a couple of + yards, and wriggling on his belly like a blind worm. Crawling closer now + (for ’twas hard to see him against the black turf), I stopp’d beside him + and strove to quiet the violence of my breathing. Then, after a minute’s + pause, together we pulled ourselves to the edge, and peer’d over. + </p> + <p> + The descent of the gully was broken, some eight feet below us, by a small + ledge, sloping outward about six feet (as I guess), and screen’d by + branches of the wild tamarisk. At the back, in an angle of the solid rock, + was now set a pan pierced with holes, and full of burning charcoal: and + over this a man in the rebels’ uniform was stooping. + </p> + <p> + He had a small paper parcel in his left hand, and was blowing at the + charcoal with all his might. Holding my breath, I heard him clearly, but + could see nothing of his face, for his back was toward us, all sable + against the glow. The charcoal fumes as they rose chok’d me so, that I was + very near a fit of coughing, when Billy laid one hand on my shoulder, and + with the other pointed out to seaward. + </p> + <p> + Looking that way, I saw a small light shining on the sea, pretty close in. + ’Twas a lantern hung out from the sloop, as I concluded on the instant: + and now I began to have an inkling of what was toward. + </p> + <p> + But looking down again at the man with the charcoal pan I saw a black head + of hair lifted, and then a pair of red puff’d cheeks, and a pimpled nose + with a scar across the bridge of it—all shining in the glare of the + pan. + </p> + <p> + “Powers of Heaven!” I gasped; “’tis that bloody villain Luke Settle!” + </p> + <p> + And springing to my feet, I took a jump over the edge and came sprawling + on top of him. The scoundrel was stooping with his nose close to the pan, + and had not time to turn before I lit with a thud on his shoulders, + flattening him on the ledge and nearly sending his face on top of the live + coal. ’Twas so sudden that, before he could so much as think, my fingers + were about his windpipe, and the both of us struggling flat on the brink + of the precipice. For he had a bull’s strength, and heaved and kicked, so + that I fully looked, next moment, to be flying over the edge into the sea: + nor could I loose my grip to get out a pistol, but only held on and worked + my fingers in, and thought how he had strangled the mastiff that night on + the bowling-green, and vowed to serve him the same if only strength held + out. + </p> + <p> + But now, just as he had almost twisted his neck free, I heard a stone or + two break away above us, and down came Billy Pottery flying atop of us, + and pinned us to the ledge. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas short work now. Within a minute, Captain Luke Settle was turned on + his back, his eyes fairly starting with Billy’s clutch on his throat, his + mouth wide open and gasping; till I slipp’d the nozzle of my pistol + between his teeth; and with that he had no more chance, but gave in, and + like a lamb submitted to have his arms truss’d behind him with Billy’s + leathern belt, and his legs with his own. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said I, standing over him, and putting the pistol against his + temple, “you and I, Master Turncoat Settle, have some accounts that + ’twould be well to square. So first tell me, what do you here, and where + is Mistress Delia Killigrew?” + </p> + <p> + I think that till this moment the bully had no idea his assailants were + more than a chance couple of Cornish troopers. But now seeing the glow of + the burning charcoal on my face, he ripped out a horrid blasphemous curse, + and straightway fell to speaking calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Good sirs, the game is yours, with care. S’lid! but you hold a pretty + hand—if only you know how to play it.” + </p> + <p> + “’Tis you shall help me, Captain: but let us be clear about the stakes. + For you, ’tis life or death: for me, ’tis to regain Mistress Delia, + failing which I shoot you here through the head, and topple you into the + sea. You are the Knave of trumps, sir, and I play that card: as matters + now stand, only the Queen can save you.” + </p> + <p> + “Right: but where be King and Ace?” + </p> + <p> + “The King is the Cornish army, yonder: the Ace is my pistol here, which I + hold.” + </p> + <p> + “And that’s a very pretty comprehension of the game, sir: I play the + Queen.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” + </p> + <p> + For answer, he pointed seaward, where the sloop’s lantern lay like a + floating star on the black waters. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried I. “Mistress Delia in that sloop! And who is with her, + pray?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Black Dick, to begin with—and Reuben Gedges—and Jeremy + Toy.” + </p> + <p> + “All the Knaves left in the pack—God help her!” I muttered, as I + look’d out toward the light, and my heart beat heavily. “God help her!” I + said again, and turning, spied a grin on the Captain’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Under Providence,” answered he, “your unworthy servant may suffice. But + what is my reward to be?” + </p> + <p> + “Your neck,” said I, “if I can save it when you are led before the Cornish + captains.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s fair enough: so listen. These few months the lady has been shut in + Bristol keep, whither, by the advice of our employer, we conveyed her back + safe and sound. This same employer—” + </p> + <p> + “A dirty rogue, whom you may as well call by his name—Hannibal + Tingcomb.” + </p> + <p> + “Right, young sir: a very dirty rogue, and a niggardly:—I hate a + mean rascal. Well, fearing her second escape from that prison, and being + hand in glove with the Parliament men, he gets her on board a sloop bound + for the Virginias, just at the time when he knows the Earl of Stamford is + to march and crush the Cornishmen. For escort she has the three comrades + of mine that I named: and the captain of the sloop (a fellow that asks no + questions) has orders to cruise along the coast hereabouts till he gets + news of the battle.” + </p> + <p> + “Which you were just now about to give him,” cried I, suddenly + enlighten’d. + </p> + <p> + “Right again. ’Twas a pretty scheme: for—d’ye see?—if all went + well with the Earl of Stamford, the King’s law would be wiped out in + Cornwall, and Master Tingcomb (with his claims and meritorious services) + might snap his thumb thereat. So, in that case, Mistress Delia was to be + brought ashore here and taken to him, to serve as he fancied. But if the + day should go against us—as it has—she was to sail to the + Virginias with the sloop, and there be sold as a slave. Or worse might + happen; but I swear that is the worst was ever told me.” + </p> + <p> + “God knows ’tis vile enough,” said I, scarce able to refrain from blowing + his brains out. “So you were to follow the Earl’s army, and work the + signals. Which are they?” For a quick resolve had come into my head, and I + was casting about to put it into execution. + </p> + <p> + “A green light if we won: if not, a red light, to warn the sloop away.” + </p> + <p> + I picked up the packet that had dropp’d from his hand when first I sprang + upon him. It was burst abroad, and a brown powder trickling from it about + the ledge. + </p> + <p> + “This was the red light—to be sprinkled on the burning charcoal, I + suppose?” + </p> + <p> + The fellow nodded. At the same moment, Billy (who as yet had not spoke a + word, and of course, understood nothing) thrust into my hand another + packet that he had found stuck in a corner against the rock. + </p> + <p> + “Now tell me—in case the rebels won, where was the landing to be + made?” + </p> + <p> + “In the cove below here—where the road leads down.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, the road where the wagon stood.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Luke Settle blink’d his eyes at this: but nodded after a moment. + </p> + <p> + “And how many would escort her?” + </p> + <p> + He caught my drift and laughed softly— + </p> + <p> + “Be damn’d, sir, but I begin to love you, for you play the game very + proper and soundly. Reuben, Jeremy, and Black Dick alone are in the plot; + so why should more escort her? For the skipper and crew have their own + business to look after.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Master Settle, tho’ it be a sore trial to you, those three Knaves + you must give me, or I play my Ace,” and I pressed the ring of my pistol + sharply against his ear as a reminder. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart, young sir, you shall have them,” says he briskly. + </p> + <p> + “And this is ‘honor among thieves,’” thought I: “You would sell your + comrade as you sold your King:” but only said, “If you cry out, or speak + one word to warn them—” + </p> + <p> + Before I could get my sentence out, Billy Pottery broke in with a voice + like a trumpet— + </p> + <p> + “As folks go, Jack, I be a humorous man. But sittin’ here, an’ ponderin’ + this way an’ that, I says, in my deaf an’ afflicted style, ‘Why not shoot + the ugly rogue, if mirth, indeed, be your object?’ For to wait till an + uglier comes to this untravel’d spot is superfluity.” + </p> + <p> + How to explain matters to Billy was more than I could tell: but in a + moment he himself supplied the means. For the rocks here were of some kind + of slate, very hard, but scaly: and finding two pieces, a large and a + small, he handed them to me, bawling that I was to write therewith. So + giving him my pistol, I made shift to scribble a few words. Seeing his + eyes twinkle as he read, I stood up. + </p> + <p> + The charcoal by this time was a glowing mass of red: and threw so clear a + light on us that I feared the crew on board the sloop might see our forms + and suspect their misadventure. But the lantern still hung steadily: so + signing to Billy to drag our prisoner behind a tamarisk bush, I open’d the + second packet, and poured some of the powder into my hand. + </p> + <p> + It was composed of tiny crystals, yellow and flaky: and holding it, for a + moment I was possessed with a horrid fear that this might be the signal to + warn the sloop away. I flung a look at the Captain: who read my thoughts + on the instant. + </p> + <p> + “Never fear, young sir: am no such hero as to sell my life for that + tag-rag. Only make haste, for your deaf friend has a cursed ugly way of + fumbling his pistol.” + </p> + <p> + So taking heart, I tore the packet wide, and shook out the powder on the + coals. + </p> + <p> + Instantly there came a dense choking vapor, and a vivid green flare that + turned the rocks, the sky, and our faces to a ghastly brilliance. For two + minutes, at least, this unnatural light lasted. As soon as it died away + and the fumes clear’d, I look’d seaward. + </p> + <p> + The lantern on the sloop was moving in answer to the signal. Three times + it was lifted and lower’d: and then in the stillness I heard voices + calling, and soon after the regular splash of oars. + </p> + <p> + There was no time to be lost. Pulling the Captain to his feet, we + scrambled up the gully, and out at the top, and across the fields as fast + as our legs would take us. Molly came to my call and trotted beside me—the + Captain following some paces behind, and Billy last, to keep a safe watch + on his movements. + </p> + <p> + At the gate, however, where we turned into the road, I tethered the mare, + lest the sound of her hoofs should betray us: and down toward the sea we + pelted, till almost at the foot of the hill I pull’d up and listen’d, the + others following my example. + </p> + <p> + We could hear the sound of oars plain above the wash of waves on the + beach. I look’d about me. On either side the road was now bank’d by tall + hills, with clusters of bracken and furze bushes lying darkly on their + slopes. Behind one of these clusters I station’d Billy with the Captain’s + long sword, and a pistol that I by signs forbade him to fire unless in + extremity. Then, retiring some forty paces up the road, I hid the Captain + and myself on the other side. + </p> + <p> + Hardly were we thus disposed, before I heard the sound of a boat grounding + on the beach below, and the murmur of voices; and then the noise of feet + trampling the shingle. Upon which I ordered my prisoner to give a hail, + which he did readily. + </p> + <p> + “Ahoy, Dick! Ahoy, Reuben Gedges!” + </p> + <p> + In a moment or two came the answer— + </p> + <p> + “Ahoy, there, Captain—here we be!” + </p> + <p> + “Fetch along the cargo!” shouted Captain Settle, on my prompting. + </p> + <p> + “Where be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Up the road, here—waiting!” + </p> + <p> + “One minute, then—wait one minute, Captain!” + </p> + <p> + I heard the boat push’d off, some <i>Good-nights</i> call’d, and then + (with tender anguish) the voice of my Delia lifted in entreaty. As I + guess’d, she was beseeching the sailors to take her back to the sloop, nor + leave her to these villains. There follow’d an oath or two growl’d out, a + short scrimmage, and at last, above the splash of the retreating boat, + came the tramp of heavy feet on the road below. + </p> + <p> + So fired was I at the sound of Delia’s voice, that ’twas with much ado I + kept quiet behind the bush. Yet I had wit enough left to look to the + priming of my pistol, and also to bid the Captain shout again. As he did + so, a light shone out down the road, and round the corner came a man + bearing a lantern. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t be quicker, Captain,” he called: “the jade struggles so that Dick + and Jeremy ha’ their hands full.” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, after him there came in view two stooping forms that bore my + dear maid between them—one by the feet, the other by the shoulders. + I ground my teeth to see it, for she writhed sorely. On they came, + however, until not more than ten paces off; and then that traitor, Luke + Settle, rose up behind our bush. + </p> + <p> + “Set her here, boys,” said he, “and tie her pretty ankles.” + </p> + <p> + “Well met, Captain!” said the fellow with the lantern—Reuben Gedges—stepping + forward; “Give us your hand!” + </p> + <p> + He was holding out his own, when I sprang up, set the pistol close to his + chest, and fired. His scream mingled with the roar of it, and dropping the + lantern, he threw up his hands and tumbled in a heap. At the same moment, + out went the light, and the other rascals, dropping Delia, turn’d to run, + crying, “Sold—sold!” + </p> + <p> + But behind them came now a shout from Billy, and a crashing blow that + almost severed Black Dick’s arm at the shoulder: and at the same instant I + was on Master Toy’s collar, and had him down in the dust. Kneeling on his + chest, with my sword point at his throat, I had leisure to glance at + Billy, who in the dark, seem’d to be sitting on the head of his disabled + victim. And then I felt a touch on my shoulder, and a dear face peer’d + into mine. + </p> + <p> + “Is it Jack—my sweet Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said I: “and if you but reach out your hand, I will kiss it, + for all that I’m busy with this rogue.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Jack, I’ll kiss thee on the cheek—so! Dear lad, I am so + frighten’d, and yet could laugh for joy!” + </p> + <p> + But now I caught the sound of galloping on the road above, and shouts, and + then more galloping; and down came a troop of horsemen that were like to + have ridden over us, had I not shouted lustily. + </p> + <p> + “Who, in the fiend’s name is here?” shouted the foremost, pulling in his + horse with a scramble. + </p> + <p> + “Honest men and rebels together,” I answered; “but light the lantern that + you will find handy by, and you shall know one from t’other.” + </p> + <p> + By the time ’twas found and lit, there was a dozen of Col. John Digby’s + dragoons about us: and before the two villains were bound, comes a half + dozen more, leading in Captain Settle, that had taken to his heels at the + first blow and climb’d the hill, all tied as he was about the hands, and + was caught in his endeavor to clamber on Molly’s back. So he and Black + Dick and Jeremy Toy were strapp’d up: but Reuben Gedges we left on the + road for a corpse. Yet he did not die (though shot through the lung), but + recovered—heaven knows how: and I myself had the pleasure to see him + hanged at Tyburn, in the second year of his late Majesty’s most blessed + Restoration, for stopping the Bishop of Salisbury’s coach, in Maidenhead + Thicket, and robbing the Bishop himself, with much added contumely. + </p> + <p> + But as we were ready to start, and I was holding Delia steady on Molly’s + back, up comes Billy and bawls in my ear— + </p> + <p> + “There’s a second horse, if wanted, that I spied tether’d under a hedge + younder”—and he pointed to the field where we had first found + Captain Settle—“in color a sad black, an’ harness’d like as if he + came from a cart.” + </p> + <p> + I look’d at the Captain, who in the light of the lantern blink’d again. + “Thou bloody villain!” muttered I, for now I read the tragedy of the wagon + beside the road, and knew how Master Settle had provided a horse for his + own escape. + </p> + <p> + But hereupon the word was given, and we started up the hill, I walking by + Delia’s stirrup and listening to her talk as if we had never been parted—yet + with a tenderer joy, having by loss of it learn’d to appraise my happiness + aright. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. — JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE. + </h2></div> + <p> + We came, a little before midnight, to Sir Bevill’s famous great house of + Stow, near Kilkhampton: that to-night was brightly lit and full of + captains and troopers feasting, as well they needed to, after the great + victory. And here, though loth to do so, I left Delia to the care of Lady + Grace Grenville, Sir Bevill’s fond beautiful wife, and of all gentlewomen + I have ever seen the pink and paragon, as well for her loyal heart as the + graces of her mind: who, before the half of our tale was out, kissed Delia + on both cheeks, and led her away. “To you too, sir, I would counsel bed,” + said she, “after you have eaten and drunk, and especially given God thanks + for this day’s work.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Bevill I did not see, but striding down into the hall, picked my way + among the drinking and drunken; the servants hurrying with dishes of roast + and baked and great tankards of beer; the swords and pikes flung down + under the forms and settles, and sticking out to trip a man up; and at + length found a groom who led me to a loft over one of the barns: and here, + above a mattress of hay, I slept the first time for many months between + fresh linen that smell’d of lavender, and in thinking how pleasant ’twas, + dropped sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + Sure there is no better, sweeter couch than this of linen spread over hay. + Early in the morning, I woke with wits clear as water, and not an ache or + ounce of weariness in my bones: and after washing at the pump below, went + in search of breakfast and Sir Bevill. The one I found, ready laid, in the + hall; the other seated in his writing-room, studying in a map; and with + apology for my haste, handed him Master Tingcomb’s confession and told my + story. + </p> + <p> + When ’twas over, Sir Bevill sat pondering, and after a while said, very + frankly—— + </p> + <p> + “As a magistrate I can give this warrant; and ’twould be a pleasure, for + well, as a boy, do I remember Deakin Killigrew. Young sir——” + he rose up, and taking a turn across the room, came and laid a hand on my + shoulder, “I have seen his daughter. Is it too late to warn you against + loving her?” + </p> + <p> + “Why yes,” I answer’d blushing: “I think it is.” + </p> + <p> + “She seems both sweet and quaint. God forbid I should say a word against + one that has so taken me! But in these times a man should stand alone: to + make a friend is to run the chance of a soft heart: to marry a wife makes + the chance sure——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off, and went on again with a change of tone—— + </p> + <p> + “For many reasons I would blithely issue this warrant. But how am I to + spare men to carry it out? At any moment we may be assail’d.” + </p> + <p> + “If that be your concern, sir,” answer’d I, “give me the warrant. I have a + good friend here, a seafaring man, whose vessel lies at this moment in + Looe Haven, with a crew on board that will lay Master Tingcomb by the + heels in a trice. Within three days we’ll have him clapp’d in Launceston + Jail, and there at the next Assize you shall sit on the Grand Jury and + hear his case, by which time, I hope, the King’s law shall run on easier + wheels in Cornwall. The prisoners we have already I leave you to deal + withal: only, against my will, I must claim some mercy for that rogue, + Settle.” + </p> + <p> + To this Sir Bevill consented; and, to be short, the three knaves were next + morning pack’d off to Launceston: but in time, no evidence being brought + against them, regained their freedom, which they used to come to the + gallows, each in his own way. Their doings no longer concern this history, + and so I gladly leave them. + </p> + <p> + To return, then, to my proper tale, ’twas not ten minutes before I had the + warrant in my pocket. And by eleven o’clock (word having been carried to + Delia, and our plans laid before Billy Pottery, who on the spot engaged + himself to help us) our horses were brought round to the gate, and my + mistress appear’d, all ready for the journey. For tho’ assured that the + work needed not her presence, and that she had best wait at Stow till + Master Tingcomb was smok’d out of his nest, she would have none of it, but + was set on riding with me to see justice done on this fellow, of whose + villainy I had told her much the night before. And glad I was of her + choice, as I saw her standing on the entrance steps, fresh as a rose, and + in a fit habit once more: for Lady Grace had lent not only her own bay + horse, but also a riding dress and hat of grey velvet to equip her: and + stood in the porch to wish us <i>Godspeed!</i> while Sir Bevill help’d + Delia to the saddle. + </p> + <p> + So, with Billy tramping behind us, away we rode up the combe, where + Kilkhampton tower stood against the sky; and turning to wave hands at the + top, found our host and hostess still by the gate, watching us, with hands + rais’d to shield their eyes from the sun. + </p> + <p> + The whole petty tale of this day’s ride I shall not dwell upon. Indeed, I + scarcely noted the miles as they pass’d. For all the way we were + chattering, Delia telling me how Captain Settle and his gang had hurried + her (tho’ without indignity) across Dartmoor to Ashburton, thence to + Lynton in North Devon, and so along the coast of Somerset to Bristol; how + they there produced a paper, at sight of which Sir Nathaniel Fiennes, the + new Governor, kept her under lock and key. And thus she remained four + months, at the end of which time they convey’d her on board a sloop, + call’d the <i>Fortitude</i>, and bound for the Virginias, with the result + that has been told. To all of which I listened greedily, stealing from + time to time a look at her shape, that on horseback was graceful as a + willow, and into her eyes that, under the flapping grey brim, were gay and + fancy-free as ever. + </p> + <p> + “And did you,” asked I, “never at heart chide me for leaving you so!” + </p> + <p> + “Why no. I never took thee for a conjurer, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “But, at least, you thought of me,” I urged. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear—oh, dear!” She pull’d rein and look’d at me: “I remember + now that last night I kiss’d thee. Forget it, Jack: last night, so glad + was I to be sav’d, I could have kiss’d a cobbler. Indeed, Jack,” she went + on seriously, “I would that some maid had got hold of thee, in all these + months, to cure thy silly notions!” + </p> + <p> + At Launceston, Billy Pottery took leave of us: and now went, due south, + toward Looe, with a light purse and lighter heart, undertaking that his + ship should lie off Gleys, with her crew ready for action, within + eight-and-forty hours. Delia and I rode faster now toward the southwest: + and having by this time recover’d my temper, I was recounting my flight + along this very road, when I heard a sound that brought my heart into my + mouth. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the blast of a bugle, and came from behind the hill in front of us. + And at the same moment I understood. It must be Sir George Chudleigh’s + cavalry returning, on news of their comrades’ defeat, and we were riding + straight toward them, as into a trap. + </p> + <p> + Now what could have made me forgetful of this danger I cannot explain, + unless it be that our thorough victory over the rebels had given me the + notion that the country behind us was clear of foes. And Sir Bevill must + have had a notion we were going straight to Looe with Billy. At any rate, + there was no time to be lost: for my presence was a danger to Delia as + well. I cast a glance about me. There was no place to hide. + </p> + <p> + “Quick!” I cried; “follow me, and ride for dear life!” + </p> + <p> + And striking spur into Molly I turn’d sharp off the road and gallop’d + across the moor to the left, with Delia close after me. + </p> + <p> + We had gone about two hundred yards only when I heard a shout, and + glancing over my right shoulder, saw a green banner waving on the crest of + the road, and gathered about it the vanguard of the troop—some score + of dragoons: and these, having caught sight of us, were pausing a moment + to watch. + </p> + <p> + The shout presently was followed by another; to which I made no answer, + but held on my way, with the nose of Delia’s horse now level with my + stirrup: for I guess’d that my dress had already betrayed us. And this was + the case; for at the next glance I saw five or six dragoons detach + themselves from the main body, and gallop in a direction at an acute angle + to ours. On they came, yelling to us to halt, and scattering over the moor + to intercept us. + </p> + <p> + Not choosing, however, to be driven eastward, I kept a straight course and + trusted to our horses’ fleetness to carry us by them, out of reach of + their shot. In the pause of their first surprise we had stolen two hundred + yards more. I counted and found eight men thus in pursuit of us: and to my + joy heard the bugle blown again, and saw the rest of the troop, now + gathering fast above, move steadily along the road without intention to + follow. Doubtless the news of the Cornish success made them thus wary of + their good order. + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: two arrows] + </p> + <p> + Still, eight men were enough to run from; and now the nearest let fly with + his piece—more to frighten us, belike, than with any other view, for + we were far out of range. But it grew clear that if we held on our + direction they must cut us off: as you may see by these two arrows, the + long thin one standing for our own course, the thicker and shorter for + that of the dragoons. + </p> + <p> + Only now with good hope I saw a hill rising not half a mile in front, and + somewhat to the right of our course: and thought I “if we can gain the + hollow to the left of it, and put the hill between us, they must ride over + it or round—in either case losing much time.” So, pointing this out + to Delia, who rode on my left (to leave my pistol arm free and at the same + time be screen’d by me from shot of the dragoons) I drove my spurs deep + and called to Molly to make her best pace. + </p> + <p> + The enemy divin’d our purpose: and in a minute ’twas a desperate race for + the entrance to the hollow. But our horses were the faster, and we the + lighter riders; so that we won, with thirty yards to spare, from the + foremost:—not without damage, however; for finding himself baulked, + he sent a bullet at us which cut neatly through my off rein, so that my + bridle was henceforward useless and I could guide Molly with knee and + voice alone. Delia’s bay had shied at the sound of it, and likely enough + saved my mistress’ life by this; for the bullet must have pass’d within a + foot before her. + </p> + <p> + Down the hollow we raced with three dragoons at our heels, the rest going + round the hill. But they did little good by so doing, for after the hollow + came a broad, dismal sheet of water (by name Dozmare Pool, I have since + heard) about a mile round and bank’d with black peat. Galloping along the + left shore of this, we cut them off by near half a mile. But the three + behind followed doggedly, though dropping back with every stride. + </p> + <p> + Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, which + we jump’d easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the further side, I + noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes brimful of mirth. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Jack,” she cried; “is not this better than love of women?” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven’s name,” I called out, “take care!” + </p> + <p> + But ’twas too late. The green valley here melted into a treacherous bog, + in the which her bay was already plunging over his fetlocks, and every + moment sinking deeper. + </p> + <p> + “Throw me the rein!” I shouted, and catching the bridle close by the bit, + lean’d over and tried to drag the horse forward. By this, Molly also was + over hoofs in liquid mud. For a minute and more we heav’d and splashed: + and all the while the dragoons, seeing our fix, were shouting and drawing + nearer and nearer. But just as a brace of bullets splashed into the slough + at our feet, we stagger’d to the harder slope, and were gaining on them + again. So for twenty minutes along the spurs of the hills, we held on, the + enemy falling back and hidden, every now and again, in the hollows—but + always following: at the end of which time, Delia call’d from just behind + me— + </p> + <p> + “Jack—here’s a to-do: the bay is going lame!” + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt of it. I suppose he must have wrung his off hind leg in + fighting through the quag. Any way, ten minutes more would see the end of + his gallop. But at this moment we had won to the top of a stiff ascent: + and now, looking down at our feet, I had the joyfullest surprise. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the moor of Temple spread below like a map, the low sun striking on + the ruin’d huts to the left of us, on the roof of Joan’s cottage, on the + scar of the high road, and the sides of the tall tor above it. + </p> + <p> + “In ten minutes,” said I, “we may be safe.” + </p> + <p> + So down into the plain we hurried: and I thought for the first time of the + loyal girl waiting in the cottage yonder; of my former ride into Temple; + and (with angry shame) of the light heart with which I left it. To what + had the summoning drums and trumpets led me? Where was the new life, then + so carelessly prevented? But two days had gone, and here was I running to + Joan for help, as a child to his mother. + </p> + <p> + Past the peat-ricks we struggled, the sheep-cotes, the straggling fences—all + so familiar; cross’d the stream and rode into the yard. + </p> + <p> + “Jump down,” I whisper’d: “we have time, and no more.” Glancing back, I + saw a couple of dragoons already coming over the heights. They had spied + us. + </p> + <p> + Dismounting I ran to the cottage door and flung it open. A stream of + light, flung back against the sun, blazed into my eyes. + </p> + <p> + I rubbed them and halted for a moment stock-still. + </p> + <p> + For Joan stood in front of me, dress’d in the very clothes I had worn on + the day we first met—buff-coat, breeches, heavy boots, and all. Her + back was toward me, and at the shoulder, where the coat had been cut away + from my wound, I saw the rents all darn’d and patch’d with pack thread. In + her hand was the mirror I had given her. + </p> + <p> + At the sound of my step on the threshold she turn’d with a short cry—a + cry the like of which I have never heard, so full was it of choking joy. + The glass dropp’d to the floor and was shatter’d. In a second her arms + were about me, and so she hung on my neck, sobbing and laughing together. + </p> + <p> + “’Twas true—’twas true! Dear, dear Jack—dear Jack to come to + me: hold me tighter, tighter—for my very heart is bursting!” + </p> + <p> + And behind me a shadow fell on the doorway: and there stood Delia + regarding us. + </p> + <p> + “Good lad—all yesterday I swore to be strong and wait for years, if + need be. Fie on womankind, to be so weak! All day I sat an’ sat, an’ did + never a mite o’ work—never set hand to a tool: an’ by sunset I gave + in an’ went, cursing mysel’, over the moor to Warleggan, to Alsie Pascoe, + the wise woman—an’ she taught me a charm—an’ bless her, bless + her, Jack, for’t hath brought thee!” + </p> + <p> + “Joan,” said I, hot with shame, taking her arms gently from my neck: + “listen: I come because I am chased. Once more the dragooners are after me—not + five minutes away. You must lend me a horse, and at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said a voice in the doorway, “the horse, if lent, is for <i>me!</i>” + </p> + <p> + Joan turn’d, and the two women stood looking at each other;—the one + with dark wonder, the other with cold disdainfulness—and I between + them scarce lifting my eyes. Each was beautiful after her kind, as day and + night: and though their looks cross’d for a full minute like drawn blades, + neither had the mastery. Joan was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Jack, is thy mare in the yard?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Give me thy pistols and thy cloak.” She stepp’d to the window hole at the + end of the kitchen, and look’d out. “Plenty o’ time,” she said; and + pointed to the ladder leading to the loft above—“Climb up there, the + both, and pull the ladder after. Is’t <i>thou</i>, they want—or <i>she?</i>” + pointing to Delia. + </p> + <p> + “Me chiefly they would catch, no doubt—being a man,” I answer’d. + </p> + <p> + “Aye—bein’ a man: the world’s full o’ folly. Then Jack do thou look + after <i>her</i>, an’ I’ll look after <i>thee</i>. If the rebels leave + thee in peace, make for the Jews’ Kitchen and there abide me.” + </p> + <p> + She flung my cloak about her, took my pistols and went out at the door. As + she did so, the sun sank and a dull shadow swept over the moor. “Joan!” I + cried, for now I guess’d her purpose and was following to hinder her: but + she had caught Molly’s bridle and was already astride of her. “Get back!” + she call’d softly; and then, “I make a better lad than wench, Jack,”—leap’d + the mare through a gap in the wall, and in a moment was breasting the hill + and galloping for the high road. + </p> + <p> + In less than a minute, as it seem’d, I heard a pounding of hoofs, and had + barely time to follow Delia up the ladder and pull it after me, when two + of the dragoons rode skurrying by the house, and pass’d on yelling. Their + cries were hardly faint in the distance before there came another three. + </p> + <p> + “’A’s a lost man, now, for sure,” said one: “Be dang’d if ’a’s not took + the road back to Lan’son!” + </p> + <p> + “How ’bout the gal?” ask’d another voice. “Here’s her horse i’ the yard.” + </p> + <p> + “Drat the gal! Sam, go thou an’ tackle her: reckon thou’rt warriors enow + for one ’ooman.” + </p> + <p> + The two hasten’d on: and presently I heard the one they call’d “Sam” + dismounting in the yard. Now there was a window hole in the loft, facing, + not on the yard, but toward the country behind; and running to it I saw + that no more were following—the other three having, as I suppose, + early given up the chase. Softly pulling out a loose stone or two, I + widen’d this hole till I could thrust the ladder out of it. To my joy it + just reach’d the ground. I bade Delia squeeze herself through and climb + down. + </p> + <p> + But before she was halfway down I heard a wild screech in the kitchen + below, and the voice of Sam shrieking— + </p> + <p> + “Help—help! Lord ha’ mercy ’pon me—’tis a black cat—’tis + a witch! The gal’s no gal, but a witch!” + </p> + <p> + Laughing softly, I was descending the ladder when the fellow came round + the corner screaming—with Jan Tergagle clawing at his back and + spitting murderously. Delia had just time to slip aside, before he ran + into the ladder and brought me flying on top of him. And there he lay and + bellow’d till I tied him, and gagg’d his noise with a big stone in his + mouth and his own scarf tied round it. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” I whisper’d: for Joan and her pursuers were out of sight. Catching + up her long skirt, Delia follow’d me, and up the tor we panted together, + nor rested till we were safe in the Jews’ Kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “What think you of this for a hiding place?” ask’d I, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + But Delia did not laugh. Instead, she faced me with blazing eyes, check’d + herself and answer’d, cold as ice— + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you have done me a many favors. How I have trusted you in return it + were best for you to remember, and for me to forget.” + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + The dark drew on; the western star grew distinct and hung flashing over + against our hiding; and still we sat there, hour after hour, silent, + angry, waiting for Joan’s return, Delia at the entrance of the den, chin + on hand, scanning the heavens and never once turning toward me; I further + inside, with my arms cross’d, raging against myself and all the world, yet + with a sick’ning dread that Joan would never come back. + </p> + <p> + As the time lagg’d by, this terror grew and grew. But, as I think, about + ten o’clock, I heard steps coming over the turf. I ran out. ’Twas Joan + herself and leading Molly by the bridle. She walk’d as if tir’d, and + leaving the mare at the entrance, follow’d me into the cave. Glancing + round, I noted that Delia had slipp’d away. + </p> + <p> + “Am glad she’s gone,” said Joan shortly: “How many rebels pass’d this way, + Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “Five, counting one that lies gagg’d and bound, down at the cottage.” + </p> + <p> + “That leaves four:”—she stretch’d herself on the ground with a sigh—“four + that’ll never trouble thee more, lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? how—” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, lad: sit down an’ let me rest my head ’pon thy knee. Oh, Jack, I + did it bravely! Eight good miles an’ more I took the mare—by the + Four—hol’d Cross, an’ across the moor past Tober an’ Catshole, an’ + over Brown Willy, an’ round Roughtor to the nor’-west: an’ there lies the + bravest quag—oh, a black, bottomless hole!—an’ into it I led + them; an’ there they lie, every horse, an’ every mother’s son, till + Judgment Day.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—an’ the last twain wi’ a bullet apiece in their skulls. Oh, + rare! Dear heart—hold my head—so, atween thy hands. ‘Put on + his cast off duds,’ said Alsie, ’an’ stand afore the glass, sayin’ “Come, + true man!” nine-an’-ninety time.’ I was mortal ’feard o’ losin’ count; but + afore I got to fifty, I heard thy step an’—hold me closer, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “But Joan, are these men dead, say you?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, yes. Why, lad, what be four rebels, up or down, to make this coil + over? Hast never axed after <i>me</i>!” + </p> + <p> + “Joan—you are not hurt?” + </p> + <p> + In the darkness I sought her eyes, and, peering into them, drew back. + </p> + <p> + “Joan!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, lad—bend down thy head, and let me whisper. I went too near—an’ + one, that was over his knees, let fly wi’ his musket—an’ Jack, I + have but a minute or two. Hush lad, hush—there’s no call! Wert never + the man could ha’ tam’d me—art the weaker, in a way: forgie the + word, for I lov’d thee so, boy Jack!” + </p> + <p> + Her arms were drawing down my face to her: her eyes dull with pain. + </p> + <p> + “Feel, Jack—there—over my right breast. I plugg’d the wound + wi’ a peat turf. Pull it out, for ’tis bleeding inwards, and hurts cruelly—pull + it out!” + </p> + <p> + As I hesitated, she thrust her own hand in and drew it forth, leaving the + hot blood to gush. + </p> + <p> + “An’ now, Jack, tighter—hold me tighter. Kiss me—oh, what + brave times! Tighter, lad, an’ call wi’ me—‘Church an’ King!’ Call, + lad—‘Church an’—’” + </p> + <p> + The warm arms loosen’d: the head sank back upon my lap. + </p> + <p> + I look’d up. There was a shadow across the entrance, blotting out the star + of night. ’Twas Delia, leaning there and listening. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XIX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE. + </h2></div> + <p> + The day-spring came at last, and in the sick light of it I went down to + the cottage for spade and pickaxe. In the tumult of my senses I hardly + noted that our prisoner, the dragoon, had contrived to slip his bonds and + steal off in the night. + </p> + <p> + And then Delia, seeing me return with the sad tools on my shoulder, spoke + for the first time: + </p> + <p> + “First, if there be a well near, fetch me two buckets of water, and leave + us for an hour.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was weary and chill: so that I dared not thank her, but did the + errand in silence. Then, but a dozen paces from the spot where Joan’s + father lay, I dug a grave and strew’d it with bracken, and heather, and + gorse petals, that in the morning air smell’d rarely. And soon after my + task was done, Delia call’d me. + </p> + <p> + In her man’s dress Joan lay, her arms cross’d, her black tresses braided, + and her face gentler than ever ’twas in life. Over her wounded breast was + a bunch of some tiny pink flower, that grew about the tor. + </p> + <p> + So I lifted her softly as once in this same place she had lifted me, and + bore her down the slope to the grave: and there I buried her, while Delia + knelt and pray’d, and Molly browsed, lifting now and then her head to + look. + </p> + <p> + When all was done, we turn’d away, dry-eyed, and walked together to the + cottage. The bay horse was feeding on the moor below; and finding him + still too lame to carry Delia, I shifted the saddles, and mending the + broken rein, set her on Molly. The cottage door stood open, but we did not + enter; only look’d in, and seeing Jan Tergagle curl’d beside the cold + hearth, left him so. + </p> + <p> + Mile after mile we pass’d in silence, Delia riding, and I pacing beside + her with the bay. At last, tortur’d past bearing, I spoke— + </p> + <p> + “Delia, have you nothing to say?” + </p> + <p> + For a while she seem’d to consider: then, with her eyes fix’d on the hills + ahead, answered— + </p> + <p> + “Much, if I could speak: but all this has changed me somehow—’tis, + perhaps, that I have grown a woman, having been a girl—and need to + get used to it, and think.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke not angrily, as I look’d for; but with a painful slowness that + was less hopeful. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said I, “over and over you have shown that I am nought to you. + Surely—” + </p> + <p> + “Surely I am jealous? ’Tis possible—yes, Jack, I am but a woman, and + so ’tis certain.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to be jealous, you must love me!” + </p> + <p> + She look’d at me straight, and answered very deliberate— + </p> + <p> + “Now that is what I am far from sure of.” + </p> + <p> + “But, dear Delia, when your anger has cool’d—” + </p> + <p> + “My anger was brief: I am disappointed, rather. With her last breath, + almost, Joan said you were weaker than she: she lov’d you better than I, + and read you clearer. You <i>are</i> weak. Jack”—she drew in Molly, + and let her hand fall on my shoulder very kindly—“we have been + comrades for many a long mile, and I hope are honest good friends; + wherefore I loathe to say a harsh or ungrateful-seeming word. But you + could not understand that brave girl, and you cannot understand me: for as + yet you do not even know yourself. The knowledge comes slowly to a man, I + think; to a woman at one rush. But when it comes, I believe you may be + strong. Now leave me to think, for my head is all of a tangle.” + </p> + <p> + Our pace was so slow (by reason of the lame horse), that a great part of + the afternoon was spent before we came in sight of the House of Gleys. And + truly the yellow sunshine had flung some warmth about the naked walls and + turrets, so that Delia’s home-coming seem’d not altogether cheerless. But + what gave us more happiness was to spy, on the blue water beyond, the + bright canvas of the <i>Godsend</i>, and to hear the cries and stir of + Billy Pottery’s mariners as they haul’d down the sails. + </p> + <p> + And Billy himself was on the lookout with his spyglass. For hardly were we + come to the beach when our signal—the waving of a white kerchief—was + answered by another on board; and within half an hour a boat puts off, + wherein, as she drew nearer, I counted eight fellows. + </p> + <p> + They were (besides Billy), Matt. Soames, the master, Gabriel Hutchins, Ned + Masters, the black man Sampson, Ben Halliday, and two whose full names I + have forgot—but one was call’d Nicholas. And, after many warm + greetings, the boat was made fast, and we climbed up along the peninsula + together, in close order, like a little army. + </p> + <p> + All this time there was no sign or sound about the House of Gleys to show + that anyone mark’d us or noted our movements. The gate was closed, the + windows stood shutter’d, as on my former visit: even the chimneys were + smokeless. Such effect had this desolation on our spirits, that drawing + near, we fell to speaking in whispers, and said Ned Masters— + </p> + <p> + “Now a man would think us come to bury somebody!” + </p> + <p> + “He might make a worse guess,” I answer’d. + </p> + <p> + Marching up to the gate, I rang a loud peal on the bell; and to my + astonishment, before the echoes had time to die away, the grating was + push’d back, and the key turn’d in the lock. + </p> + <p> + “Step ye in—step ye in, good folks! A sorry day,—a day of sobs + an’ tears an’ afflicted blowings of the nose—when the grasshopper is + a burden an’ the mourners go about seeking whom they may devour the + funeral meats. Y’ are welcome, gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas the voice of my one-eyed friend, as he undid the bolts; and now he + stood in the gateway with a prodigious black sash across his canary + livery, so long that the ends of it swept the flagstones. + </p> + <p> + “Is Master Tingcomb within?” I helped Delia to dismount, and gave our two + horses to a stable boy that stood shuffling some paces off. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” the old man heav’d a deep sigh, and with that began to hobble + across the yard. We troop’d after, wondering. At the house door he turn’d— + </p> + <p> + “Sirs, there is cold roasted capons, an’ a ham, an’ radishes in choice + profusion for such as be not troubled wi’ the wind: an’ cordial wines—alack + the day!” + </p> + <p> + He squeez’d a frosty tear from his one eye, and led us to a large bare + hall, hung round with portraits; where was a table spread with a plenty of + victuals, and horn-handled knives and forks laid beside plates of pewter; + and at the table a man in black, eating. He had straight hair and a sallow + face; and look’d up as we enter’d, but, groaning, in a moment fell to + again. + </p> + <p> + “Eat, sirs,” the old servitor exhorted us: “alas! that man may take + nothing out o’ the world!” + </p> + <p> + I know not who of us was most taken aback. But noting Delia’s sad + wondering face, as her eyes wander’d round the neglected room and rested + on the tatter’d portraits, I lost patience. + </p> + <p> + “Our business is with Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” said I sharply. + </p> + <p> + The straight-hair’d man look’d up again, his mouth full of ham. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!”—he held his fork up, and shook his head sorrowfully: and I + wonder’d where I had seen him before. “Hast thou an angel’s wings?” he + ask’d. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, sir; but the devil’s own boots—as you shall find if I be + not answer’d.” + </p> + <p> + “Young man—young man,” broke in the one-eyed butler: “our minister + is a good minister, an’ speaks roundabout as such: but the short is, that + my master is dead, an’ in his coffin.” + </p> + <p> + “The mortal part,” corrected the minister, cutting another slice. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, the immortal is a-trippin’ it i’ the New Jeroosalem: but the mortal + was very lamentably took wi’ a fit, three days back—the same day, + young man, as thou earnest wi’ thy bloody threats.” + </p> + <p> + “A fit?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, sir, an’ verily—such a fit as thou thysel’ witness’d. ’Twas + the third attack—an’ he cried, ‘Oh!’ he did, an’ ‘Ah!’—just + like that. ‘Oh!’ an’ then ‘Ah!’ Such were his last dyin’ speech. ‘Dear + Master,’ says I, ‘there’s no call to die so hard:’ but might so well ha’ + whistled, for he was dead as nails. A beautiful corpse, sirs, dang my + buttons!” + </p> + <p> + “Show him to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly, young man.” He led the way to the very room where Master + Tingcomb and I had held our interview. As before, six candles were burning + there: but the table was push’d into a corner, and now their light fell on + a long black coffin, resting on trestles in the centre of the room. The + coffin was clos’d, and studded with silver nails; on the lid was a silver + plate bearing these words written—“<i>Hannibal Tingcomb</i>, + MDCXLIII.,” with a text of Scripture below. + </p> + <p> + “Why have you nail’d him down?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Now where be thy bowels, young man, to talk so unfeelin’? An’ where be + thy experience, not to know the ways o’ thy blessed dead in summer time?” + </p> + <p> + “When do you bury him?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow forenoon. The spot is two mile from here.” He blinked at me, + and hesitated for a minute. “Is it your purpose, sirs, to attend?” + </p> + <p> + “Be sure of that,” I said grimly. “So have beds ready to-night for all our + company.” + </p> + <p> + “All thy—! Dear sir, consider: where are beds to be found? Sure, thy + mariners can pass the night aboard their own ship?” + </p> + <p> + “So then,” thought I, “you have been on the lookout;” but Delia replied + for me— + </p> + <p> + “I am Delia Killigrew, and mistress of this house. You will prepare the + beds as you are told.” Whereupon what does that decrepit old sinner but + drop upon his knees? + </p> + <p> + “Mistress Delia! O goodly feast for this one poor eye! Oh, that Master + Tingcomb had seen this day!” + </p> + <p> + I declare the tears were running down his nose; but Delia march’d out, + cutting short his hypocrisy. + </p> + <p> + In the passage she whisper’d— + </p> + <p> + “Villainy, Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” I answered, “and listen: <i>Master Tingcomb is no more in that + coffin than I.</i>” + </p> + <p> + “Then where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “That is just what we are to discover.” As I said this a light broke on + me. “By the Lord,” I cried, “’tis the very same!” + </p> + <p> + Delia open’d her eyes wide. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” I said: “I begin to touch ground.” + </p> + <p> + We returned to the great hall. The straight-hair’d man was still eating, + and opposite sat Billy, that had not budg’d, but now beckoning to me, very + mysterious, whisper’d in a voice that made the plates rattle— + </p> + <p> + “That’s—a damned—rogue!” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas discomposing, but the truth. In fact, I had just solv’d a puzzle. + This holy-speaking minister was no other than the groom I had seen at + Bodmin Fair holding Master Tingcomb’s horses. + </p> + <p> + By this, the sun was down, and Delia soon made an excuse to withdraw to + her own room. Nor was it long before the rest followed her example. I + found our chambers prepared, near together, in a wing of the house at some + distance from the hall. Delia’s was next to mine, as I made sure by + knocking at her door: and on the other side of me slept Billy with two of + his crew. My own bed was in a great room sparely furnish’d; and the linen + indifferent white. There was a plenty of clean straw, tho’, on the floor, + had I intended to sleep—which I did not. + </p> + <p> + Instead, having blown out my light, I sat on the bed’s edge, listening to + the big clock over the hall as it chim’d the quarters, and waiting till + the fellows below should be at their ease. That Master Tingcomb rested + under the coffin lid, I did not believe, in spite of the terrifying fit + that I could vouch for. But this, if driven to it, we could discover at + the grave. The main business was to catch him; and to this end I meant to + patrol the buildings, and especially watch the entrance, on the likely + chance of his creeping back to the house (if not already inside), to + confer with his fellow-rascals. + </p> + <p> + As eleven o’clock sounded, therefore, I tapp’d on Billy’s wall; and + finding that Matt. Soames was keeping watch (as we had agreed upon), + slipp’d off my boots. Our rooms were on the first floor, over a straw + yard; and the distance to the ground an easy drop for a man. But wishing + to be silent as possible, I knotted two blankets together, and strapping + the end round the window mullion, swung myself down by one hand, holding + my boots in the other. + </p> + <p> + I dropp’d very lightly, and look’d about. There was a faint moon up and + glimmering on the straw; but under the house was deep shadow, and along + this I crept. The straw yard led into the court before the stables, and so + into the main court. All this way I heard no sound, nor spied so much as a + speck of light in any window. The house door was clos’d, and the bar + fastened on the great gate across the yard. I turn’d the corner to explore + the third side of the house. + </p> + <p> + Here was a group of outbuildings jutting out, and between them and the + high outer wall a narrow alley. ’Twas with difficulty I groped my way + here, for the passage was dark as pitch, and rendered the straiter by a + line of ragged laurels planted under the house; so that at every other + step I would stumble, and run my head into a bush. + </p> + <p> + I had done this for the eighth time, and was cursing under my breath, when + on a sudden I heard a stealthy footfall coming down the alley behind me. + </p> + <p> + “Master Tingcomb, for a crown!” thought I, and crouch’d to one side under + a bush. The footsteps drew nearer. A dark form parted the laurels: another + moment, and I had it by the throat. + </p> + <p> + “Uugh—ugh—grr! For the Lord’s sake, sir,—” + </p> + <p> + I loos’d my hold: ’twas Matt. Soames. “Your pardon,” whisper’d I; “but why + have you left your post?” + </p> + <p> + “Black Sampson is watchin’, so I took the freedom—ugh! my poor + windpipe!—to—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off to catch me by the sleeve and pull me down behind the bush. + About twelve paces ahead I heard a door softly open’d and saw a shaft of + light flung across the path between the glist’ning laurels. As the ray + touch’d the outer wall, I mark’d a small postern gate there, standing + open. + </p> + <p> + Cowering lower, we waited while a man might count fifty. Then came + footsteps crunching the gravel, and a couple of men cross’d the path, + bearing a large chest between them. In the light I saw the handle of a + spade sticking out from it: and by his gait I knew the second man to be my + one-ey’d friend. + </p> + <p> + “Woe’s my old bones!” he was muttering: “here’s a fardel for a man o’ my + years!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold thy breath for the next load!” growl’d the other voice, which as + surely was the good minister’s. + </p> + <p> + They pass’d out of the small gate, and by the sounds that follow’d, we + guess’d they were hoisting their burden into a cart. Presently they + re-cross’d the path, and entered the house, shutting the door after them. + </p> + <p> + “Now for it!” said I in Matt’s ear. Gliding forward, I peep’d out at the + postern gate; but drew back like a shot. + </p> + <p> + I had almost run my head into a great black hearse, that stood there with + the door open, back’d against the gate, the heavy plumes nodding above it + in the night wind. + </p> + <p> + Who held the horses I had not time to see: but whispering to Matt, to give + me a leg up, clamber’d inside. “Quick!” I pull’d him after, and crept + forward. I wonder’d the man did not hear us: but by good luck the horses + were restive, and by his maudlin talk to them I knew he was three parts + drunk—on the funeral wines, doubtless. + </p> + <p> + I crept along, and found the tool chest stow’d against the further end: + so, pulling it gently out, we got behind it. Tho’ Matt was the littlest + man of my acquaintance, ’twas the work of the world to stow ourselves in + such compass as to be hidden. By coiling up our limbs we managed it; but + only just before I caught the glimmer of a light and heard the pair of + rascals returning. + </p> + <p> + They came very slow, grumbling all the way; and of course, I knew they + carried the coffin. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Sim?” ask’d the minister. + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” piped a squeaky voice by the horses heads (’twas the shuffling + stable boy), “aye, but look sharp! Lord, what sounds I’ve heerd! The + devil’s i’ the hearse, for sure!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Simmy,” the one-ey’d gaffer expostulated, “thou dostn’ think the + smoky King is a-took in, same as they poor folks upstairs? Tee-hee! Lord, + what a trick!—to come for Master Tingcomb, an’ find—aw dear!—aw, + bless my old ribs, what a thing is humor!” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” grunted the minister. The end of the coffin was tilted up into + the hearse. “Push, old varmint!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye-push, push! Where be my young, active sinews? What a shrivell’d + garment is all my comeliness! ‘The devil inside,’ says Simmy—haw, + haw!” + </p> + <p> + “Burn the thing! ’twon’t go in for the tool box. Push, thou cackling old + worms!” + </p> + <p> + “Now so I be, but my natural strength is abated. ‘Yo-heave ho!’ like the + salted seafardingers upstairs. Push, push!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my inwards!” groans poor Matt, under his breath, into whom the chest + was squeezing sorely. + </p> + <p> + “Right at last!” says the minister. “Now, Simmy, nay lad, hand the reins + an’ jump up. There’s room, an’ you’ll be wanted.” + </p> + <p> + The door was clapp’d-to, the three rogues climb’d upon the seat in front: + and we started. + </p> + <p> + I hope I may never be call’d to pass such another half hour as that which + follow’d. As soon as the wheels left turf for the hard road, ’twas jolt, + jolt all the way; and this lying mainly down hill, the chest and coffin + came grinding into our ribs, and pressing till we could scarce breathe. + And I dared not climb out over them, for fear the fellows should hear us; + their chuckling voices coming quite plain to us from the other side of the + panel. I held out, and comforted Matt, as well as I could, feeling sure we + should find Master Tingcomb at our journey’s end. Soon we climb’d a hill, + which eas’d us a little; but shortly after were bumping down again, and + suffering worse than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Save us,” moan’d Matt, “where will this end?” + </p> + <p> + The words were scarce out, when we turn’d sharp to the right, with a jolt + that shook our teeth together, roll’d for a little while over smooth + grass, and drew up. + </p> + <p> + I heard the fellows climbing down, and got my pistols out. + </p> + <p> + “Simmy,” growl’d the minister, “where’s the lantern?” + </p> + <p> + There was a minute or so of silence, and then the snapping of flint and + steel, and the sound of puffing. + </p> + <p> + “Lit, Simmy?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, here ’tis.” + </p> + <p> + “Fetch it along then.” + </p> + <p> + The handle of the door was turn’d, and a light flash’d into the hearse. + </p> + <p> + “Here, hold the lantern steady! Come hither, old Squeaks, and help wi’ the + end.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely I will. Well was I call’d Young Look-alive when a gay, fleeting + boy. Simmy, my son, thou’rt sadly drunken. O youth, youth! Thou + winebibber, hold the light steady, or I’ll tell thy mammy!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, I do mortally dread the devil an’ all his works!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, if ever! The devil,’ says he—an’ Master Tingcomb still livin’, + an’ in his own house awaitin’ us!” + </p> + <p> + Be sure, his words were as good as a slap in the face to me. For I had + counted the hearse to lead me straight to Master Tingcomb himself. “In his + own house,” too! A fright seiz’d me for Delia. But first I must deal with + these scoundrels, who already were dragging out the coffin. + </p> + <p> + “Steady there!” calls the minister. The coffin was more than halfway + outside. I levell’d my pistol over the edge of the tool chest, and fetch’d + a yell fit to wake a ghost—at the same time letting fly straight for + the minister. + </p> + <p> + In the flash of the discharge, I saw him, half-turn’d, his eyes starting, + and mouth agape. He clapp’d his hand to his shoulder. On top of his wild + shriek, broke out a chorus of screams and oaths, in the middle of which + the coffin tilted up and went over with a crash. “Satan—Satan!” + bawled Simmy, and, dropping the lantern, took to his heels for dear life. + At the same moment the horses took fright; and before I could scramble + out, we were tearing madly away over the turf and into the darkness. I had + made a sad mess of it. + </p> + <p> + It must have been a full minute before the hedge turn’d them, and gave me + time to drop out at the back and run to their heads. Matt. Soames was + after me, quick as thought, and very soon we mastered them, and gathering + up the reins from between their legs, led them back. As luck would have + it, the lantern had not been quench’d by the fall, but lay flaring, and so + guided us. Also a curious bright radiance seem’d growing on the sky, for + which I could not account. The three knaves were nowhere to be seen, but I + heard their footsteps scampering in the distance, and Simmy still yelling + “Satan!” I knew my bullet had hit the minister; but he had got away, and I + never set eyes on any of the three again. + </p> + <p> + Leaving Matt to mind the horses, I caught up the lantern, and look’d about + me. As well as could be seen, we were in a narrow meadow between two + hills, whereof the black slopes rose high above us. Some paces to the + right, my ear caught the noise of a stream running. + </p> + <p> + I turn’d the lantern on the coffin, which lay face downward, and with a + gasp took in the game those precious rogues had been playing. For, with + the fall of it, the boards (being but thin) were burst clean asunder; and + on both sides had tumbled out silver cups, silver saltcellars, silver + plates and dishes, that in the lantern’s rays sparkled prettily on the + turf. The coffin, in short, was stuff’d with Delia’s silverware. + </p> + <p> + I had pick’d up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the + inscription, when Matt. Soames call’d to me, and pointed over the hill in + front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” said he, “’tis a fire out yonder!” + </p> + <p> + “God help us, Matt.—’tis the House of Gleys!” + </p> + <p> + It took but two minutes to toss the silver back into the hearse. I + clapp’d-to the door, and snatching the reins, sprang upon the driver’s + seat. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <div class='chapter'><h2> + CHAPTER XX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH + MY COMRADE. + </h2></div> + <p> + We had some ado to find the gate: but no sooner were through, and upon the + high road, than I lash’d the horses up the hill at a gallop. To guide us + between the dark hedges we had only our lantern and the glare ahead. The + dishes and cups clash’d and rattled as the hearse bump’d in the ruts, + swaying wildly: a dozen times Matt, was near being pitch’d clean out of + his seat. With my legs planted firm, I flogg’d away like a madman; and + like mad creatures the horses tore upward. + </p> + <p> + On the summit a glance show’d us all—the wild crimson’d sky—the + sea running with lines of fire—and against it the inky headland + whereon the House of Gleys flar’d like a beacon. Already from one wing—<i>our</i> + wing—a leaping column of flame whirl’d up through the roof, and was + swept seaward in smoke and sparks. I mark’d the coast line, the cliff + tracks, the masts and hull of the <i>Godsend</i> standing out, clear as + day; and nearer, the yellow light flickering over the fields of young + corn. We saw all this, and then were plunging down hill, with the blaze + full ahead of us. The heavy reek of it was flung in our nostrils as we + gallop’d. + </p> + <p> + At the bottom we caught up a group of men running. ’Twas a boatload come + from the ship to help. As our horses swept past them, one or two came to a + terrified halt; but presently were running hard again after us. + </p> + <p> + The great gate stood open. I drove straight into the bright-lit yard, + shouting “Delia!—where is Delia?” + </p> + <p> + “Here!” call’d a voice; and from a group that stood under the glare of the + window came my dear mistress running. + </p> + <p> + “All safe, Jack! But what—” She drew back from our strange equipage. + </p> + <p> + “All in good time. First tell me—how came the fire?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, foul work, as it seems. All I know is I was sleeping, and awoke to + hear the black seaman hammering on my door. Jumping up, I found the room + full of smoke, and escap’d. The rooms beneath, they say, were stuff’d with + straw, and the yard outside heap’d also with straw, and blazing. Ben + Halliday found two oil jars lying there—” + </p> + <p> + “Are the horses out?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack—I do not know! Shame on me to forget them!” + </p> + <p> + I ran toward the stable. Already the roof was ablaze, and the straw yard, + beyond, a very furnace. Rushing in, I found the two horses cowering in + their stalls, bath’d in sweat, and squealing. But ’twas all fright. So I + fetch’d Molly’s saddle, and spoke to her, and set it across her back: and + the sweet thing was quiet in a moment, turning her head to rub my sleeve + gently with her muzzle: and followed me out like a lamb. The bay gave more + trouble; but I sooth’d him in the same manner, and patting his neck, led + him, too, into safety. + </p> + <p> + By this, all hope to save the house was over: for the well in the court + yielded but twenty buckets before it ran dry, and after that no water was + to be had. Of the wing where the fire burst out only the walls stood, and + a few oaken rafters, that one by one came tumbling and crashing. The + flames had spread along the roof, and were now licking the ceiling of the + hall and spouting around the clock tower. In the roar and hubbub, Billy’s + men work’d like demons, dragging out chairs, chests, and furniture of all + kinds, which they strew’d in the yard, returning with shouts for more. One + was tearing down the portraits in the hall: another was pulling out the + great dresser from the kitchen: a third had found a pile of tapestry and + came staggering forth under the load of it. + </p> + <p> + I had fasten’d the horses by the gate, and was ready to join in the work, + when a shout was rais’d— + </p> + <p> + “Billy!—Where’s Billy Pottery? Has any seen the skipper?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” I call’d, “you don’t say he was never alarm’d!” + </p> + <p> + “Black Sampson was in his room—where’s Black Sampson?” + </p> + <p> + “Here I be!” cried a voice. “To be sure I woke the skipper before any o’ + ye.” + </p> + <p> + “Then where’s he hid? Did any see him come out?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, that we have not!” answer’d one or two. + </p> + <p> + I stood by the house door shouting these questions to the men inside, when + a hand was laid on my arm, and there in the shadow waited Billy himself, + with a mighty curious twinkle in his eye. He put a finger up and signed + that I should follow. + </p> + <p> + We pass’d round the outbuildings where, three hours before, Matt. Soames + and I had hid together. I was minded to stop and pull on my boots, that + were hid here: but (and this was afterward the saving of me) on second + thoughts let them lie, and follow’d Billy, who now led me out by the + postern gate. + </p> + <p> + Without speech we stepp’d across the turf, he a pace or two ahead. A night + breeze was blowing here, delicious after the heat of the fire. We were + walking quickly toward the east side of the headland, and soon the blaze + behind flung our shadows right to the cliff’s edge, for which Billy made + straight, as if to fling himself over. + </p> + <p> + But when, at the very verge, he pull’d up, I became enlighten’d. At our + feet was an iron bar driven into the soil, and to it a stout rope knotted, + that ran over a block and disappeared down the cliff. I knelt and, pulling + at it softly, look’d up. It came easy in the hand. + </p> + <p> + Billy, with the glare in his face, nodded: and bending to my ear, for once + achiev’d a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Saw one stealing hither—an’ follow’d. A man wi’ a limp foot—went + over the side like a cat.” + </p> + <p> + I must have appeared to doubt this good fortune, for he added— + </p> + <p> + “‘Be a truth speakin’ man i’ the main, Jack—’lay over ’pon my belly, + and spied a ledge—fifty feet down or less—’reckon there be a + way thence to the foot. Dear, now! what a rampin’, tearin’ sweat is this?” + </p> + <p> + For, fast as I could tug, I was hauling up the rope. Near sixty feet came + up before I reach’d the end—a thick twisted knot. I rove a long + noose; pull’d it over my head and shoulders, and made Billy understand he + was to lower me. + </p> + <p> + “Sit i’ the noose, lad, an’ hold round the knot. For sign to hoist again, + tug the rope hard. I can hold.” + </p> + <p> + He paid it out carefully while I stepp’d to the edge. With the noose about + my loins I thrust myself gently over, and in a trice hung swaying. + </p> + <p> + On three sides the sky compass’d me—wild and red, save where to + eastward the dawn was paling: on the fourth the dark rocky face seem’d + gliding upward as Billy lower’d. Far below I heard the wash of the sea, + and could just spy the white spume of it glimmering. It stole some of the + heart out of me, and I took my eyes off it. + </p> + <p> + Some feet below the top, the cliff fetch’d a slant inward, so that I + dangled a full three feet out from the face. As a boy I had adventured + something of this sort on the north sides of Gable and the Pillar, and + once (after a nest of eaglets) on the Mickledore cliffs: but then ’twas + daylight. Now, tho’ I saw the ledge under me, about a third of the way + down, it look’d, in the darkness, to be so extremely narrow, that ’tis + probable I should have call’d out to Billy to draw me up but for the + certainty that he would never hear: so instead I held very tight and + wish’d it over. + </p> + <p> + Down I sway’d (Billy letting out the rope very steady), and at last swung + myself inward to the ledge, gain’d a footing, and took a glance round + before slipping off the rope. + </p> + <p> + I stood on a shelf of sandy rock that wound round the cliff some way to my + left, and then, as I thought, broke sharply away. ’Twas mainly about a + yard in width, but in places no more than two feet. In the growing light I + noted the face of the headland ribb’d with several of these ledges, of + varying length, but all hollow’d away underneath (as I suppose by the sea + in former ages), so that the cliff’s summit overhung the base by a great + way: and peering over I saw the waves creeping right beneath me. + </p> + <p> + Now all this while I had not let Master Tingcomb out of my mind. So I + slipp’d off the rope and left it to dangle, while I crept forward to + explore, keeping well against the rock and planting my feet with great + caution. + </p> + <p> + I believe I was twenty minutes taking as many steps, when at the point + where the ledge broke off I saw the ends of an iron ladder sticking up, + and close beside it a great hole in the rock, which till now the curve of + the cliff had hid. The ladder no doubt stood on a second shelf below. + </p> + <p> + I was pausing to consider this, when a bright ray stream’d across the sea + toward me, and the red rim of the sun rose out of the waters, outfacing + the glow on the headland, and rending the film of smoke that hung like a + curtain about the horizon. ’Twas as if by alchemy that the red ripples + melted to gold; and I stood watching with a child’s delight. + </p> + <p> + I heard the sound of a footstep: and fac’d round. + </p> + <p> + Before me, not six paces off, stood Hannibal Tingcomb. + </p> + <p> + He was issuing from the hole with a sack on his shoulder, and sneaking to + descend the steps, when he threw a glance behind—and saw me! + </p> + <p> + Neither spoke. With a face grey as ashes he turn’d very slowly, until in + the unnatural light we look’d straight into each other’s eyes. His never + blink’d, but stared—stared horribly, while the veins swell’d black + on his forehead and his lips work’d, attempting speech. No words came—only + a long drawn sob, deep down in his throat. + </p> + <p> + And then, letting slip the sack, he flung his arms up, ran a pace or two + toward me, and tumbled on his face in a fit. His left shoulder hung over + the verge; his legs slipp’d. In a trice he was hanging by his arms, his + old distorted face turn’d up, and a froth about his lips. I made a step to + save him: and then jump’d back, flattening myself against the rock. + </p> + <p> + The ledge was breaking. + </p> + <p> + I saw a seam gape at my feet. I saw it widen and spread to right and left. + I heard a ripping, rending noise—a rush of stones and earth: and, + clawing the air, with a wild screech, Master Tingcomb pitch’d backward, + head over heels, into space. + </p> + <p> + Then follow’d silence: then a horrible splash as he struck the water, far + below: then again a slipping and trickling, as more of the ledge broke + away—at first a pebble or two sliding—a dribble of earth—next, + a crash and a cloud of dust. A last stone ran loose and dropp’d. Then fell + a silence so deep I could catch the roar of the flames on the hill behind. + </p> + <p> + Standing there, my arms thrown back and fingers spread against the rock, I + saw a wave run out, widen, and lose itself on the face of the sea. Under + my feet but eight inches of the cornice remain’d. My toes stuck forward + over the gulf. + </p> + <p> + [Illustration: The ledge was breaking.] + </p> + <p> + A score of startled gulls with their cries call’d me to myself. I open’d + my eyes, that had shut in sheer giddiness. Close on my left the ledge was + broke back to the very base, cutting me off by twelve feet from that part + where the ladder still rested. No man could jump it, standing. To the + right there was no gap: but in one place only was the footing over ten + inches wide, and at the end my rope hung over the sea, a good yard away + from the edge. + </p> + <p> + I shut my eyes and shouted. + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. In the dead stillness I could hear the rafters + falling in the House of Gleys, and the shouts of the men at work. The <i>Godsend</i> + lay around the point, out of sight. And Billy, deaf as a stone, sat no + doubt by his rope, placidly waiting my signal. + </p> + <p> + I scream’d again and again. The rock flung my voice seaward. Across the + summit vaulted above, there drifted a puff of brown smoke. No one heard. + </p> + <p> + A while of weakness followed. My brain reel’d: my fingers dug into the + rock behind till they bled. I bent forward—forward over the heaving + mist through which the sea crawl’d like a snake. It beckon’d me down, that + crawling water.... + </p> + <p> + I stiffened my knees and the faintness pass’d. I must not look down again. + It flashed on me that Delia had call’d me weak: and I hardened my heart to + fight it out. I would face round to the cliff and work toward the rope. + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a hateful moment while I turned: for to do so I must let go with one + hand. And the rock thrust me outward. But at last I faced the cliff; + waited a moment while my knees shook; and moving a foot cautiously to the + left, began to work my way along, an inch at a time. + </p> + <p> + Looking down to guide my feet, I saw the waves twinkling beneath my heels. + My palms press’d the rock. At every three inches I was fain to rest my + forehead against it and gasp. Minute after minute went by—endless, + intolerable, and still the rope seem’d as far away as ever. A cold sweat + ran off me: a nausea possessed me. Once, where the ledge was widest, I + sank on one knee, and hung for a while incapable of movement. But a black + horror drove me on: and after the first dizzy stupor my wits were + mercifully wide awake. Sure, ’twas God’s miracle preserv’d them to me, who + looking at the sea and cliff and pitiless sun, had almost denied Him and + his miracles together. + </p> + <p> + All the way I kept shouting: and so, for half an hour, inch by inch, + shuffled forward, until I stood under the rope. Then I had to turn again. + </p> + <p> + The rock, tho’ still overarching, here press’d out less than before: so + that, working round on the ball of my foot, I managed pretty easily. But + how to get the rope? As I said, it hung a good yard beyond the ledge, the + noose dangling some two feet below it. With my finger tips against the + cliff, I lean’d out and clutch’d at it. I miss’d it by a foot. “Shall I + jump?” thought I, “or bide here till help comes?” + </p> + <p> + ’Twas a giddy, awful leap. But the black horror was at my heels now. In a + minute more ’twould have me; and then my fall was certain. I call’d up + Delia’s face as she had taunted me. I bent my knees, and, leaving my hold + of the rock, sprang forward—out, over the sea. + </p> + <p> + I saw it twinkle, fathoms below. My right hand touch’d—grasp’d the + rope: then my left, as I swung far out upon it. I slipp’d an inch—three + inches—then held, swaying wildly. My foot was in the noose. I heard + a shout above: and, as I dropp’d to a sitting posture, the rope began to + rise. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! Oh, Billy, pull quick!” + </p> + <p> + He could not hear; yet tugg’d like a Trojan. + </p> + <p> + “Now, here’s a time to keep a man sittin’!” he shouted, as he caught my + hand, and pull’d me full length on the turf. “Why, lad—hast seen a + ghost?” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. The black horror had overtaken me at last. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + They carried me to a shed in the great court of Gleys, and set me on + straw: and there, till far into the afternoon, I lay betwixt swooning and + trembling, while Delia bath’d my head in water from the sea, for no other + was to be had. And about four in the afternoon the horror left me, so that + I sat up and told my story pretty steadily. + </p> + <p> + “What of the house?” I ask’d, when the tale was done, and a company sent + to search the east cliff from the beach. + </p> + <p> + “All perish’d!” said Delia, and then smiling, “I am houseless as ever, + Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “And have the same good friends.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true. But listen—for while you have lain here, Billy and I + have put our heads together. He is bound for Brest, he says, and has + agreed to take me and such poor chattels as are saved, to Brittany, where + I know my mother’s kin will have a welcome for me, until these troubles be + pass’d. Already the half of my goods is aboard the <i>Godsend</i>, and a + letter writ to Sir Bevill, begging him to appoint an honest man as my + steward. What think you of the plan?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems a good plan,” I answer’d slowly: “the England that now is, is no + place for a woman. When do you sail?” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as you are recovered, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “Then that’s now.” I got on my feet, and drew on my boots (that Matt. + Soames had found in the laurel bushes and brought). My knees trembled a + bit, but nothing to matter. + </p> + <p> + “Art looking downcast, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + Said I: “How else should I look, that am to lose thee in an hour or more?” + </p> + <p> + She made no reply to this, but turned away to give an order to the + sailors. + </p> + <p> + The last of Delia’s furniture was hardly aboard, when we heard great + shouts of joy, and saw the men returning that had gone to search the + cliff. They bore between them three large oak coffers: which being broke, + we came on an immense deal of old plate and jewels, besides over L300 in + coined money. There were two more left behind, they said, besides several + small bags of gold. The path up the cliff was hard to climb, and would + have been impossible, but for the iron ladder they found ready fix’d for + Master Tingcomb’s descent. In the hole (that could not be seen from the + beach, the shelf hiding it) was tackle for lowering the chest: and below a + boat moor’d, and now left high and dry by the tide. Doubtless, the + arch-rascal had waited for his comrades to return, whom Matt. Soames and I + had scar’d out of all stomach to do so. His body was nowhere found. + </p> + <p> + The sea had wash’d it off: but the sack they recover’d, and found to hold + the choicest of Delia’s heirlooms. Within an hour the remaining coffers + and the money bags were safe in the vessel’s hold. + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + The sun was setting, as Delia and I stood on the beach, beside the boat + that was to take her from me. Aboard the <i>Godsend</i> I could hear the + anchor lifting, and the men singing, as, holding Molly’s bridle, I held + out my hand to the dear maid who with me had shar’d so many a peril. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any more to come?” she ask’d. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, and God knows my heart was heavy: “nothing to come but + ‘Farewell!’” + </p> + <p> + She laid her small hand in my big palm, and glancing up, said very pretty + and demur— + </p> + <p> + “<i>And shall I leave my best? Wilt not come, too, dear Jack?</i>” + </p> + <p> + “Delia!” I stammer’d. “What is this? I thought you lov’d me not.” + </p> + <p> + “And so did I, Jack: and thinking so, I found I loved thee better than + ever. Fie on thee, now! May not a maid change her mind without being + forced to such unseemly, brazen words?” And she heav’d a mock sigh. + </p> + <p> + But as I stood and held that little hand, I seem’d across the very mist of + happiness to read a sentence written, and spoke it, perforce and slow, as + with another man’s mouth— + </p> + <p> + “Delia, you only have I lov’d, and will love! Blithe would I be to live + with you, and to serve you would blithely die. In sorrow, then, call for + me, or in trust abide me. But go with you now—I may not.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her eyes, and looking full into mine, repeated slowly the verse + we had read at our first meeting— + </p> +<div class="pre"> + “‘In a wife’s lap, as in a grave, + Man’s airy notions mix with earth—’ +—thou hast found it, sweetheart—thou has found the Splendid Spur!” + </div> + <p> + She broke off, and clapp’d her hands together very merrily; and then, as a + tear started— + </p> + <p> + “But thou’lt come for me, ere long, Jack? Else I am sure to blame some + other woman. Stay—” + </p> + <p> + She drew off her ring, and slipp’d it on my little finger. + </p> + <p> + “There’s my token! Now give me one to weep and be glad over.” + </p> + <p> + Having no trinkets, I gave my glove: and she kiss’d it twice, and put it + in her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “I have no need of this ring,” said I: “for look!” and I drew forth the + lock I had cut from her dear head, that morning among the alders by Kennet + side, and worn ever since over my heart. + </p> + <p> + “Wilt marry no man till I come?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, that’s too hard a promise,” said she, laughing, and shaking her + curls. + </p> + <p> + “Too hard!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course. Listen, sweetheart—a true woman will not change her + mind: but, oh! she dearly loves to be able to! So, bating this, here’s my + hand upon it—now, fie, Jack! and before all these mariners!—well, + then if thou <i>must</i>—” + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + I watch’d her standing in the stern and waving, till she was under the <i>Godsend’s</i> + side: then turn’d, and mounting Molly, rode inland to the wars. + </p> + <h3> + THE END. + </h3> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 6437 ***</div> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/6437-h/images/cover.jpg b/6437-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa736b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/6437-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d1b0f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #6437 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6437) diff --git a/old/6437-0.txt b/old/6437-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27ded34 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/6437-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8858 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Splendid Spur, by Arthur T. Quiller Couch + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Splendid Spur + +Author: Arthur T. Quiller Couch + + +Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6437] +This file was first posted on December 14, 2002 +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPLENDID SPUR *** + + + + +Produced by Karl Hagen, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + +THE SPLENDID SPUR + +Being Memoirs of The Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, A Servant of His +Late Majesty King Charles I., In The Years 1642-3: Written by Himself: +Edited in Modern English by Q (Arthur T. Quiller Couch) + +By Arthur T. Quiller Couch + +1897 + + + +[Illustration: “I loved thee so, boy Jack.”] + + +TO + +EDWARD GWYNNE EARDLEY-WILMOT. + +_MY DEAR EDDIE, + +Whatever view a story-teller may take of his business, 'tis happy when +he can think, “This book of mine will please such and such a friend,” + and may set that friend's name after the title page. For even if to +please (as some are beginning to hold) should be no part of his aim, +at least 'twill always be a reward: and (in unworthier moods) next to a +Writer I would choose to be a Lamplighter, as the only other that gets +so cordial a “God bless him!” in the long winter evenings. + +To win such a welcome at such a time from a new friend or two would be +the happiest fortune for my tale. But to you I could wish it to speak +particularly, seeing that under the coat of_ JACK MARVEL _beats the +heart of your friend_ + +Q. + +_Torquay, August 22d_, 1889. + + + + + +INTRODUCTORY NOTE. + +“Q.” + +A year or two ago it was observed that three writers were using the +curiously popular signature “Q.” This was hardly less confusing than +that one writer should use three signatures (Grant Allen, Arbuthnot +Wilson, and Anon), but as none of the three was willing to try another +letter, they had to leave it to the public (whose decision in such +matters is final) to say who is Q to it. The public said, Let him wear +this proud letter who can win it, and for the present at least it is +in the possession of the author of “The Splendid Spur” and “The Blue +Pavilions.” It would seem, too, as if it were his “to keep,” for “Q” is +like the competition cups that are only yours for a season, unless you +manage to carry them three times in succession. Mr. Quiller-Couch has +been champion Q since 1890. + +The interesting question is not so much, What has he done to be the only +prominent Q of these years, as Is he to be the Q of all time? If so, he +will do better work than he has yet done, though several of his latest +sketches--and one in particular--are of very uncommon merit. Mr. +Quiller-Couch is so unlike Mr. Kipling that one immediately wants to +compare them. They are both young, and they have both shown such promise +that it will be almost sad if neither can write a book to live--as, +of course, neither has done as yet. Mr. Kipling is the more audacious, +which is probably a matter of training. He was brought up in India, +where one's beard grows much quicker than at Oxford, and where you not +only become a man (and a cynic) in a hurry, but see and hear strange +things (and print them) such as the youth of Oxford miss, or, becoming +acquainted with, would not dare insert in the local magazine of the +moment. So Mr. Kipling's first work betokened a knowledge of the world +that is by no means to be found in “Dead Man's Rock,” the first book +published by Mr. Quiller-Couch. On the other hand, it cannot truly be +said that Mr. Kipling's latest work is stronger than his first, while +the other writer's growth is the most remarkable thing about him. It +is precisely the same Mr. Kipling who is now in the magazines that was +writing some years ago in India (and a rare good Mr. Kipling too), but +the Mr. Quiller-Couch of to-day is the Quiller-Couch of “Dead Man's +Rock” grown out of recognition. To compare their styles is really to +compare the men. Mr. Kipling's is the more startling, the stronger (as +yet), and the more mannered. Mark Twain, it appears, said he reads Mr. +Kipling for his style, which is really the same thing as saying you read +him for his books, though the American seems only to have meant that +he eats the beef because he likes the salt. It is a journalistic style, +aiming too constantly at sharp effects, always succeeding in getting +them. Sometimes this is contrived at the expense of grammar, as when (a +common trick with the author) he ends a story with such a paragraph as +“Which is manifestly unfair.” Mr. Quiller-Couch has never sinned in this +way, but his first style was somewhat turgid, even melodramatic, and, +compared with Mr. Kipling's, lacked distinction. From the beginning Mr. +Kipling had the genius for using the right word twice in three +times (Mr. Stevenson only misses it about once in twelve), while +Mr. Quiller-Couch not only used the wrong word, but weighted it with +adjectives. The charge, however, cannot be brought against him to-day, +for having begun by writing like a Mr. Haggard not quite sure of himself +(if one can imagine such a Mr. Haggard), and changing to an obvious +imitation of Mr. Stevenson, he seems now to have made a style for +himself. It is clear and careful, but not as yet strong winged. Its +distinctive feature is that it is curiously musical. + +“Dead Man's Rock” is a capital sensational story to be read and at once +forgotten. It was followed by “The Astonishing History of Troy Town,” + which was humorous, and proved that the author owed a debt to Dickens. +But it was not sufficiently humorous to be remarkable for its humor, and +it will go hand in hand with “Dead Man's Rock” to oblivion. Until “The +Splendid Spur” appeared Mr. Quiller-Couch had done little to suggest +that an artist had joined the ranks of the story-tellers. It is not in +anyway a great work, but it was among the best dozen novels of its year, +and as the production of a new writer it was one of the most notable. +About the same time was published another historical romance of the +second class (for to nothing short of Sir Walter shall we give a +first-class in this department), “Micah Clarke,” by Mr. Conan Doyle. It +was as inevitable that the two books should be compared as that he who +enjoyed the one should enjoy the other. In one respect “Micah Clarke” is +the better story. It contains one character, a soldier of fortune, who +is more memorable than any single figure in “The Splendid Spur.” This, +however, is effected at a cost, for this man is the book. It contains, +indeed, two young fellows, one of them a John Ridd, but no Diana Vernon +would blow a kiss to either. Both stories are weak in pathos, despite +Joan, but there are a score of humorous situations in “The Splendid +Spur” that one could not forget if he would--which he would not--as, for +instance, where hero and heroine are hidden in barrels in a ship, and +hero cries through his bunghole, “Wilt marry me, sweetheart?” to which +heroine replies, “Must get out of this cask first.” Better still is the +scene in which Captain Billy expatiates, with a mop and a bucket, on the +merits of his crew. But the passages are for reading, not for hearing +about. Of the characters, this same Captain Billy is not the worst, but +perhaps the best is Joan, Mr. Quiller-Couch's first successful picture +of a girl. A capital eccentric figure is killed (some good things +are squandered in this book) just when we are beginning to find him a +genuine novelty. Anything that is ready to leap into danger seems to +be thought good enough for the hero of a fighting romance, so that Jack +Marvel will pass (though Delia, as is right and proper, is worth two of +him, despite her coming-on disposition). The villain is a failure, and +the plot poor. Nevertheless there are some ingenious complications in +it. Jack's escape by means of the hangman's rope, which was to send him +out of the world in a few hours, is a fine rollicking bit of sensation. +Where Mr. Quiller-Couch and Mr. Conan Doyle both fail as compared with +the great master of romance is in the introduction of historical figures +and episodes. Scott would have been a great man if he had written no +novel but “The Abbott” (one of his second best), and no part of +“The Abbott” but the scene in which Mary signs away her crown. Mr. +Quiller-Couch almost entirely avoids such attempts, and even Mr. Conan +Doyle only dips into them timidly. There is, one has been told, a theory +that the romancist has no right to picture history in this way. But he +makes his rights when he does it as Scott did it. + +Since “The Splendid Spur,” Mr. Quiller-Couch has published nothing in +book form which can be considered an advance on his best novel, but +there have appeared by him a number of short Cornish sketches, which are +perhaps best considered as experiments. They are perilously slight, and +where they are successful one remembers them as sweet dreams or like a +bar of music. All aim at this effect, so that many should not be taken +at a time, and some (as was to be expected with such delicate work) +miss their mark. It might be said that in several of these melodies +Mr. Quiller-Couch has been writing the same thing again and again, +determined to succeed absolutely, if not this time then the next, and +if not the next time then the time after. In one case he has succeeded +absolutely. “The Small People,” is a prose “Song of the Shirt.” To my +mind this is a rare piece of work, and the biggest thing for its size +that has been done in English fiction for some years. + +These sketches have been called experiments. They show (as his books +scarcely show) that Mr. Quiller-Couch can feel. They suggest that he may +be able to do for Cornwall what Mr. Hardy has done for Dorset--though +the methods of the two writers are as unlike as their counties. But that +can only be if in filling his notebook with these little comedies and +tragedies Mr. Quiller-Couch is preparing for more sustained efforts. + + “Our hope and heart is with thee + We will stand and mark.” + +J. M. BARRIE. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + +I. THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE “CROWN” + +II. THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN + +III. I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL; AND BARELY ESCAPE + +IV. I TAKE THE ROAD + +V. MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE CUPS” + +VI. THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD + +VII. I FIND A COMRADE + +VIII. I LOSE THE KING'S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL + +IX I BREAK OUT OF PRISON + +X. CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE + +XI. I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE; AND AM WELL TREATED THERE + +XII. HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK +DOWN + +XIII. I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR; AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL +TINGCOMB + +XIV. I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS + +XV. I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS + +XVI. THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH + +XVII. I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT + +XVIII. JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE + +XIX THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE + +XX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE + + + +THE SPLENDID SPUR. + +CHAPTER I. + +THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE “CROWN.” + + +He that has jilted the Muse, forsaking her gentle pipe to follow the +drum and trumpet, shall fruitlessly besiege her again when the time +comes to sit at home and write down his adventures. 'Tis her revenge, +as I am extremely sensible: and methinks she is the harder to me, upon +reflection how near I came to being her lifelong servant, as you are to +hear. + +'Twas on November 29th, Ao. 1642--a clear, frosty day--that the King, +with the Prince of Wales (newly recovered of the measles), the Princes +Rupert and Maurice, and a great company of lords and gentlemen, horse +and foot, came marching back to us from Reading. I was a scholar of +Trinity College in Oxford at that time, and may begin my history at +three o'clock on the same afternoon, when going (as my custom was) to +Mr. Rob. Drury for my fencing lesson, I found his lodgings empty. + +They stood at the corner of Ship Street, as you turn into the Corn +Market--a low wainscoted chamber, ill-lighted but commodious. “He is off +to see the show,” thought I as I looked about me; and finding an easy +cushion in the window, sat down to await him. Where presently, being +tired out (for I had been carrying a halberd all day with the scholars' +troop in Magdalen College Grove), and in despite of the open lattice, I +fell sound asleep. + +It must have been an hour after that I awoke with a chill (as was +natural), and was stretching out a hand to pull the window close, but +suddenly sat down again and fell to watching instead. + +The window look'd down, at the height of ten feet or so, upon a +bowling-green at the back of the “Crown” Tavern (kept by John Davenant, +in the Corn Market), and across it to a rambling wing of the same inn; +the fourth side--that to my left--being but an old wall, with a +broad sycamore growing against it. 'Twas already twilight; and in the +dark'ning house, over the green, was now one casement brightly lit, the +curtains undrawn, and within a company of noisy drinkers round a table. +They were gaming, as was easily told by their clicking of the dice and +frequent oaths: and anon the bellow of some tipsy chorus would come +across. 'Twas one of these catches, I dare say, that woke me: only just +now my eyes were bent, not toward the singers, but on the still lawn +between us. + +The sycamore, I have hinted, was a broad tree, and must, in summer, have +borne a goodly load of leaves: but now, in November, these were strewn +thick over the green, and nothing left but stiff, naked boughs. Beneath +it lay a crack'd bowl or two on the rank turf, and against the trunk a +garden bench rested, I suppose for the convenience of the players. On +this a man was now seated. + +He was reading in a little book; and this first jogged my curiosity: for +'twas unnatural a man should read print at this dim hour, or, if he had +a mind to try, should choose a cold bowling-green for his purpose. Yet +he seemed to study his volume very attentively, but with a sharp look, +now and then, toward the lighted window, as if the revellers disturb'd +him. His back was partly turn'd to me; and what with this and the +growing dusk, I could but make a guess at his face: but a plenty of +silver hair fell over his fur collar, and his shoulders were bent a +great deal. I judged him between fifty and sixty. For the rest, he wore +a dark, simple suit, very straitly cut, with an ample furr'd cloak, and +a hat rather tall, after the fashion of the last reign. + +Now, why the man's behavior so engaged me, I don't know: but at the +end of half an hour I was still watching him. By this, 'twas near +dark, bitter cold, and his pretence to read mere fondness: yet he +persevered--though with longer glances at the casement above, where the +din at times was fit to wake the dead. + +And now one of the dicers upsets his chair with a curse, and gets on his +feet. Looking up, I saw his features for a moment--a slight, pretty boy, +scarce above eighteen, with fair curls and flush'd cheeks like a girl's. +It made me admire to see him in this ring of purple, villainous faces. +'Twas evident he was a young gentleman of quality, as well by his +bearing as his handsome cloak of amber satin barr'd with black. “I think +the devil's in these dice!” I heard him crying, and a pretty hubbub all +about him: but presently the drawer enters with more wine, and he sits +down quietly to a fresh game. + +As soon as 'twas started, one of the crew, that had been playing but was +now dropp'd out, lounges up from his seat, and coming to the casement +pushes it open for fresh air. He was one that till now had sat in full +view--a tall bully, with a gross pimpled nose; and led the catches in +a bull's voice. The rest of the players paid no heed to his rising; and +very soon his shoulders hid them, as he lean'd out, drawing in the cold +breath. + +During the late racket I had forgot for a while my friend under the +sycamore, but now, looking that way, to my astonishment I saw him +risen from his bench and stealing across to the house opposite. I say +“stealing,” for he kept all the way to the darker shadow of the wall, +and besides had a curious trailing motion with his left foot as though +the ankle of it had been wrung or badly hurt. + +As soon as he was come beneath the window he stopped and called softly-- + +“Hist!” + +The bully gave a start and look'd down. I could tell by this motion he +did not look to find anyone in the bowling-green at that hour. Indeed he +had been watching the shaft of light thrown past him by the room behind, +and now moved so as to let it fall on the man that addressed him. + +The other stands close under the window, as if to avoid this, and calls +again-- + +“Hist!” says he, and beckons with a finger. + +The man at the window still held his tongue (I suppose because those +in the room would hear him if he spoke), and so for a while the two men +studied one another in silence, as if considering their next moves. + +After a bit, however, the bully lifted a hand, and turning back into the +lighted room, walks up to one of the players, speaks a word or two and +disappears. + +I sat up on the window seat, where till now I had been crouching for +fear the shaft of light should betray me, and presently (as I was +expecting) heard the latch of the back perch gently lifted, and spied +the heavy form of the bully coming softly over the grass. + +Now, I would not have my readers prejudiced, and so may tell them this +was the first time in my life I had played the eavesdropper. That I +did so now I can never be glad enough, but 'tis true, nevertheless, my +conscience pricked me; and I was even making a motion to withdraw when +that occurred which would have fixed any man's attention, whether he +wish'd it or no. + +The bully must have closed the door behind him but carelessly, for +hardly could he take a dozen steps when it opened again with a scuffle, +and the large house dog belonging to the “Crown” flew at his heels with +a vicious snarl and snap of the teeth. + +'Twas enough to scare the coolest. But the fellow turn'd as if shot, and +before he could snap again, had gripped him fairly by the throat. The +struggle that follow'd I could barely see, but I heard the horrible +sounds of it--the hard, short breathing of the man, the hoarse +rage working in the dog's throat--and it turned me sick. The dog--a +mastiff--was fighting now to pull loose, and the pair swayed this way +and that in the dusk, panting and murderous. + +I was almost shouting aloud--feeling as though 'twere my own throat thus +gripp'd--when the end came. The man had his legs planted well apart. + +I saw his shoulders heave up and bend as he tightened the pressure of +his fingers; then came a moment's dead silence, then a hideous gurgle, +and the mastiff dropped back, his hind legs trailing limp. + +The bully held him so for a full minute, peering close to make sure he +was dead, and then without loosening his hold, dragged him across the +grass under my window. By the sycamore he halted, but only to shift his +hands a little; and so, swaying on his hips, sent the carcase with a +heave over the wall. I heard it drop with a thud on the far side. + +During this fierce wrestle--which must have lasted about two +minutes--the clatter and shouting of the company above had gone on +without a break; and all this while the man with the white hair had +rested quietly on one side, watching. But now he steps up to where the +bully stood mopping his face (for all the coolness of the evening), and, +with a finger between the leaves of his book, bows very politely. + +“You handled that dog, sir, choicely well,” says he, in a thin voice +that seemed to have a chuckle hidden in it somewhere. + +The other ceased mopping to get a good look at him. + +“But sure,” he went on, “'twas hard on the poor cur, that had never +heard of Captain Lucius Higgs--” + +I thought the bully would have had him by the windpipe and pitched him +after the mastiff, so fiercely he turn'd at the sound of this name. But +the old gentleman skipped back quite nimbly and held up a finger. + +“I'm a man of peace. If another title suits you better--” + +“Where the devil got you that name?” growled the bully, and had half a +mind to come on again, but the other put in briskly-- + +“I'm on a plain errand of business. No need, as you hint, to mention +names; and therefore let me present myself as Mr. Z. The residue of the +alphabet is at your service to pick and choose from.” + +“My name is Luke Settle,” said the big man hoarsely (but whether this +was his natural voice or no I could not tell). + +“Let us say 'Mr. X.' I prefer it.” + +The old gentleman, as he said this, popped his head on one side, laid +the forefinger of his right hand across the book, and seem'd to be +considering. + +“Why did you throttle that dog a minute ago?” he asked sharply. + +“Why, to save my skin,” answers the fellow, a bit puzzled. + +“Would you have done it for fifty pounds?” + +“Aye, or half that.” + +“And how if it had been a _puppy_, Mr. X?” + +Now all this from my hiding I had heard very clearly, for they stood +right under me in the dusk. But as the old gentleman paused to let +his question sink in, and the bully to catch the drift of it before +answering, one of the dicers above struck up to sing a catch---- + + “With a hey, trolly-lolly! a leg to the Devil, + And answer him civil, and off with your cap: + Sing--Hey, trolly-lolly! Good-morrow, Sir Evil, + We've finished the tap, + And, saving your worship, we care not a rap!” + +While this din continued, the stranger held up one forefinger again, as +if beseeching silence, the other remaining still between the pages of +his book. + +“Pretty boys!” he said, as the noise died away; “pretty boys! 'Tis +easily seen they have a bird to pluck.” + +“He's none of my plucking.” + +“And if he were, why not? Sure you've picked a feather or two before now +in the Low Countries--hey?” + +“I'll tell you what,” interrupts the big man, “next time you crack one +of your death's-head jokes, over the wall you go after the dog. What's +to prevent it?” + +“Why, this,” answers the old fellow, cheerfully. “There's money to be +made by doing no such thing. And I don't carry it all about with me. So, +as 'tis late, we'd best talk business at once.” + +They moved away toward the seat under the sycamore, and now their words +reached me no longer--only the low murmur of their voices or (to be +correct) of the elder man's: for the other only spoke now and then, to +put a question, as it seemed. Presently I heard an oath rapped out +and saw the bully start up. “Hush, man!” cried the other, and “hark-ye +now--“; so he sat down again. Their very forms were lost within the +shadow. I, myself, was cold enough by this time and had a cramp in +one leg--but lay still, nevertheless. And after awhile they stood up +together, and came pacing across the bowling-green, side by side, the +older man trailing his foot painfully to keep step. You may be sure I +strain'd my ears. + +“--besides the pay,” the stranger was saying, “there's all you can win +of this young fool, Anthony, and all you find on the pair, which I'll +wager--” + +They passed out of hearing, but turned soon, and came back again. The +big man was speaking this time. + +“I'll be shot if I know what game _you're_ playing in this.” + +The elder chuckled softly. “I'll be shot if I mean you to,” said he. + +And this was the last I heard. For now there came a clattering at the +door behind me, and Mr. Robert Drury reeled in, hiccuping a maudlin +ballad about “_Tib and young Colin, one fine day, beneath the haycock +shade-a_,” &c., &c., and cursing to find his fire gone out, and all in +darkness. Liquor was ever his master, and to-day the King's health had +been a fair excuse. He did not spy me, but the roar of his ballad +had startled the two men outside, and so, while he was stumbling over +chairs, and groping for a tinder-box, I slipp'd out in the darkness, and +downstairs into the street. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN, + +Guess, any of you, if these events disturbed my rest that night. 'Twas +four o'clock before I dropp'd asleep in my bed in Trinity, and my last +thoughts were still busy with the words I had heard. Nor, on the morrow, +did it fair any better with me: so that, at rhetoric lecture, our +president--Dr. Ralph Kettle--took me by the ears before the whole +class. He was the fiercer upon me as being older than the gross of my +fellow-scholars, and (as he thought) the more restless under discipline. +“A tutor'd adolescence,” he would say, “is a fair grace before meat,” + and had his hourglass enlarged to point the moral for us. But even +a rhetoric lecture must have an end, and so, tossing my gown to the +porter, I set off at last for Magdalen Bridge, where the new barricado +was building, along the Physic Garden, in front of East Gate. + +The day was dull and low'ring, though my wits were too busy to heed +the sky; but scarcely was I past the small gate in the city wall when a +brisk shower of hail and sleet drove me to shelter in the Pig Market +( or _Proscholium_) before the Divinity School. 'Tis an ample vaulted +passage, as I dare say you know; and here I found a great company of +people already driven by the same cause. + +To describe them fully 'twould be necessary to paint the whole state of +our city in those distracted times, which I have neither wit nor time +for. But here, to-day, along with many doctors and scholars, were +walking courtiers, troopers, mountebanks, cut-purses, astrologers, +rogues and gamesters; together with many of the first ladies and +gentlemen of England, as the Prince Maurice, the lords Andover, Digby +and Colepepper, my lady Thynne, Mistress Fanshawe, Mr. Secretary +Nicholas, the famous Dr. Harvey, arm-in-arm with my lord Falkland (whose +boots were splash'd with mud, he having ridden over from his house +at Great Tew), and many such, all mix'd in this incredible tag-rag. +Mistress Fanshawe, as I remember, was playing on a lute, which she +carried always slung about her shoulders: and close beside her, a fellow +impudently puffing his specific against the _morbus campestris_, which +already had begun to invade us. + +“_Who'll buy?_” he was bawling. “'_Tis from the receipt of a famous +Italian, and never yet failed man, woman, nor child, unless the heart +were clean drown'd in the disease: the lest part of it good muscadine, +and has virtue against the plague, smallpox, or surfeits!_” + +I was standing before this jackanapes, when I heard a stir in the crowd +behind me, and another calling, “_Who'll buy? Who'll buy?_” + +Turning, I saw a young man, very gaily dressed, moving quickly about at +the far end of the Pig Market, and behind him an old lackey, bent double +with the weight of two great baskets that he carried. The baskets were +piled with books, clothes, and gewgaws of all kinds; and 'twas the young +gentleman that hawked his wares himself. “_What d'ye lack?_” he kept +shouting, and would stop to unfold his merchandise, holding up now a +book, and now a silk doublet, and running over their merits like any +huckster--but with the merriest conceit in the world. + +And yet 'twas not this that sent my heart flying into my mouth at the +sight of him. For by his curls and womanish face, no less than the amber +cloak with the black bars, I knew him at once for the same I had seen +yesterday among the dicers. + +As I stood there, drawn this way and that by many reflections, he worked +his way through the press, selling here and there a trifle from his +baskets, and at length came to a halt in front of me. + +“Ha!” he cried, pulling off his plumed hat, and bowing low, “a scholar, +I perceive. Let me serve you, sir. Here is the 'History of Saint +George,'” and he picked out a thin brown quarto and held it up; “written +by Master Peter Heylin; a ripe book they tell me (though, to be sure, I +never read beyond the title), and the price a poor two shillings.” + +[Illustration: “A scholar, I perceive. Let me serve you sir?”--Page 30.] + +Now, all this while I was considering what to do. So, as I put my hand +in my pocket, and drew out the shillings, I said very slowly, looking +him in the eyes (but softly, so that the lackey might not hear)---- + +“So thus you feed your expenses at the dice: and my shilling, no doubt, +is for Luke Settle, as well as the rest.” + +For the moment, under my look, he went white to the lips; then +clapped his hand to his sword, withdrew it, and answered me, red as a +turkey-cock---- + +“Shalt be a parson, yet, Master Scholar: but art in a damn'd hurry, it +seems.” + +Now, I had ever a quick temper, and as he turned on his heel, was like +to have replied and raised a brawl. My own meddling tongue had brought +the rebuff upon me: but yet my heart was hot as he walked away. + +I was standing there and looking after him, turning over in my hand the +“Life of Saint George,” when my fingers were aware of a slip of paper +between the pages. Pulling it out, I saw 'twas scribbled over with +writing and figures, as follows:-- + +“Mr. Anthony Killigrew, his acct for Oct. 25th, MDCXLII.--_For +herrings_, 2d.; _for coffie_, 4d.; _for scowring my coat_, 6d.; _at +bowls_, 5s. 10d.; _for bleading me_, 1s. 0d.; _for ye King's speech_, +3d.; _for spic'd wine (with Marjory)_, 2s. 4d.; _for seeing ye +Rhinoceros_, 4d.; _at ye Ranter-go-round_, 6 3/4d.; _for a pair of +silver buttons_, 2s. 6d.; _for apples_, 2 1/2d.; _for ale_, 6d.; _at ye +dice_, L17 5s.; _for spic'd wine (again)_, 4s. 6d.” + +And so on. + +As I glanced my eye down this paper, my anger oozed away, and a great +feeling of pity came over me, not only at the name of Anthony--the name +I had heard spoken in the bowling-green last night--but also to see +that monstrous item of L17 odd spent on the dice. 'Twas such a boy, too, +after all, that I was angry with, that had spent fourpence to see the +rhinoceros at a fair, and rode on the ranter-go-round (with “Marjory,” + no doubt, as 'twas for her, no doubt, the silver buttons were bought). +So that, with quick forgiveness, I hurried after him, and laid a hand on +his shoulder. + +He stood by the entrance, counting up his money, and drew himself up +very stiff. + +“I think, sir,” said I, “this paper is yours.” + +“I thank you,” he answered, taking it, and eyeing me. “Is there +anything, besides, you wished to say?” + +“A great deal, maybe, if your name be Anthony.” + +“Master Anthony Killigrew is my name, sir; now serving under Lord +Bernard Stewart in His Majesty's troop of guards.” + +“And mine is Jack Marvel,” said I. + +“Of the Yorkshire Marvels?” + +“Why, yes; though but a shoot of that good stock, transplanted to +Cumberland, and there sadly withered.” + +“'Tis no matter, sir,” said he politely; “I shall be proud to cross +swords with you.” + +“Why, bless your heart!” I cried out, full of laughter at this childish +punctilio; “d'ye think I came to fight you?” + +“If not, sir”--and he grew colder than ever--“you are going a cursed +roundabout way to avoid it.” + +Upon this, finding no other way out of it, I began my tale at once: but +hardly had come to the meeting of the two men on the bowling-green, when +he interrupts me politely---- + +“I think, Master Marvel, as yours is like to be a story of some moment, +I will send this fellow back to my lodgings. He's a long-ear'd dog that +I am saving from the gallows for so long as my conscience allows me. The +shower is done, I see; so if you know of a retir'd spot, we will talk +there more at our leisure.” + +He dismiss'd his lackey, and stroll'd off with me to the Trinity Grove, +where, walking up and down, I told him all I had heard and seen the +night before. + +“And now,” said I, “can you tell me if you have any such enemy as this +white-hair'd man, with the limping gait?” + +He had come to a halt, sucking in his lips and seeming to reflect-- + +“I know one man,” he began: “but no--'tis impossible.” + +As I stood, waiting to hear more, he clapp'd his hand in mine, very +quick and friendly: “Jack,” he cried;--“I'll call thee Jack--'twas an +honest good turn thou hadst in thy heart to do me, and I a surly rogue +to think of fighting--I that could make mincemeat of thee.” + +“I can fence a bit,” answer'd I. + +“Now, say no more, Jack: I love thee.” + +He look'd in my face, still holding my hand and smiling. Indeed, there +was something of the foreigner in his brisk graceful ways--yet not +unpleasing. I was going to say I had never seen the like--ah, me! that +both have seen and know the twin image so well. + +“I think,” said I, “you had better be considering what to do.” + +He laugh'd outright this time; and resting with his legs cross'd, +against the trunk of an elm, twirl'd an end of his long lovelocks, and +looked at me comically. Said he: “Tell me, Jack, is there aught in me +that offends thee?” + +“Why, no,” I answered. “I think you're a very proper young man--such as +I should loathe to see spoil'd by Master Settle's knife.” + +“Art not quick at friendship, Jack, but better at advising; only in this +case fortune has prevented thy good offices. Hark ye,” he lean'd forward +and glanc'd to right and left, “if these twain intend my hurt--as indeed +'twould seem--they lose their labor: for this very night I ride from +Oxford.” + +“And why is that?” + +“I'll tell thee, Jack, tho' I deserve to be shot. I am bound with a +letter from His Majesty to the Army of the West, where I have friends, +for my father's sake--Sir Deakin Killigrew of Gleys, in Cornwall. 'Tis a +sweet country, they say, tho' I have never seen it.” + +“Not seen thy father's country?” + +“Why no--for he married a Frenchwoman, Jack, God rest her dear +soul!”--he lifted his hat--“and settled in that country, near Morlaix, +in Brittany, among my mother's kin; my grandfather refusing to see or +speak with him, for wedding a poor woman without his consent. And in +France was I born and bred, and came to England two years agone; and +this last July the old curmudgeon died. So that my father, who was an +only son, is even now in England returning to his estates: and with him +my only sister Delia. I shall meet them on the way. To think of it!” + (and I declare the tears sprang to his eyes): “Delia will be a woman +grown, and ah! to see dear Cornwall together!” + +Now I myself was only a child, and had been made an orphan when but nine +years old, by the smallpox that visited our home in Wastdale Village, +and carried off my father, the Vicar, and my dear mother. Yet his simple +words spoke to my heart and woke so tender a yearning for the small +stone cottage, and the bridge, and the grey fells of Yewbarrow above it, +that a mist rose in my eyes too, and I turn'd away to hide it. + +“'Tis a ticklish business,” said I after a minute, “to carry the King's +letter. Not one in four of his messengers comes through, they say. But +since it keeps you from the dice----” + +“That's true. To-night I make an end.” + +“To-night!” + +“Why, yes. To-night I go for my revenge, and ride straight from the inn +door.” + +“Then I go with you to the 'Crown,'” I cried, very positive. + +He dropp'd playing with his curl, and look'd me in the face, his mouth +twitching with a queer smile. + +“And so thou shalt Jack: but why?” + +“I'll give no reason,” said I, and knew I was blushing. + +“Then be at the corner of All Hallows' Church in Turl Street at seven +to-night. I lodge over Master Simon's, the glover, and must be about +my affairs. Jack,”--he came near and took my hand--“am sure thou lovest +me.” + +He nodded, with another cordial smile, and went his way up the grove, +his amber cloak flaunting like a belated butterfly under the leaf less +trees; and so pass'd out of my sight. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL: AND BARELY ESCAPE. + + +It wanted, maybe, a quarter to seven, that evening, when, passing out +at the College Gate on my way to All Hallows' Church, I saw under the +lantern there a man loitering and talking with the porter. 'Twas Master +Anthony's lackey; and as I came up, he held out a note for me. + +Deare Jack + +Wee goe to the “Crowne” at VI. o'clock, I having mett with Captain +Settle, who is on dewty with the horse tonite, and must to Abendonn by +IX. I looke for you-- + +Your unfayned loving + +A. K. + +The bearer has left my servise, and his helth conserus me nott. Soe kik +him if he tarrie. + +This last advice I had no time to carry out with any thoroughness: but +being put in a great dread by this change of hour, pelted off toward the +Corn Market as fast as legs could take me, which was the undoing of a +little round citizen into whom I ran full tilt at the corner of Balliol +College: who, before I could see his face in the darkness, was tipp'd on +his back in the gutter and using the most dismal expressions. So I left +him, considering that my excuses would be unsatisfying to his present +demands, and to his cooler judgment a superfluity. + +The windows of the “Crown” were cheerfully lit behind their red blinds. +A few straddling grooms and troopers talked and spat in the brightness +of the entrance, and outside in the street was a servant leading up and +down a beautiful sorrel mare, ready saddled, that was mark'd on the near +hind leg with a high white stocking. In the passage, I met the host +of the “Crown,” Master John Davenant, and sure (I thought) in what +odd corners will the Muse pick up her favorites! For this slow, +loose-cheek'd vintner was no less than father to Will Davenant, our +Laureate, and had belike read no other verse in his life but those at +the bottom of his own pint-pots. + +“Top of the stairs,” says he, indicating my way, “and open the door +ahead of you, if y'are the young gentleman Master Killigrew spoke of.” + +I had my foot on the bottom step, when from the room above comes the +crash of a table upsetting, with a noise of broken glass, chairs thrust +back, and a racket of outcries. Next moment, the door was burst open, +letting out a flood of light and curses; and down flies a drawer, three +steps at a time, with a red stain of wine trickling down his white face. + +“Murder!” he gasped out; and sitting down on a stair, fell to mopping +his face, all sick and trembling. + +I was dashing past him, with the landlord at my heels, when three men +came tumbling out at the door, and downstairs. I squeezed myself against +the wall to let them pass: but Master Davenant was pitch'd to the very +foot of the stairs. And then he picked himself up and ran out into the +Corn Market, the drawer after him, and both shouting “Watch! Watch!” + at the top of their lungs; and so left the three fellows to push by +the women already gathered in the passage, and gain the street at their +ease. All this happen'd while a man could count twenty; and in half a +minute I heard the ring of steel and was standing in the doorway. + +There was now no light within but what was shed by the fire and +two tallow candles that gutter'd on the mantelshelf. The remaining +candlesticks lay in a pool of wine on the floor, amid broken glasses, +bottles, scattered coins, dice boxes and pewter pots. In the corner to +my right cower'd a potboy, with tankard dangling in his hand, and the +contents spilling into his shoes. His wide terrified eyes were fix'd on +the far end of the room, where Anthony and the brute Settle stood, with +a shattered chair between them. Their swords were cross'd in tierce, and +grating together as each sought occasion for a lunge: which might have +been fair enough but for a dog-fac'd trooper in a frowsy black periwig, +who, as I enter'd, was gathering a handful of coins from under the +fallen table, and now ran across, sword in hand, to the Captain's aid. + +'Twas Anthony that fac'd me, with his heel against the wainscoting, and, +catching my cry of alarm, he call'd out cheerfully over the Captain's +shoulder, but without lifting his eyes-- + +“Just in time, Jack! Take off the second cur, that's a sweet boy!” + +Now I carried no sword; but seizing the tankard from the potboy's hand, +I hurl'd it at the dog-fac'd trooper. It struck him fair between the +shoulder blades; and with a yell of pain he spun round and came toward +me, his point glittering in a way that turn'd me cold. I gave back a +pace, snatch'd up a chair (that luckily had a wooden seat) and with my +back against the door, waited his charge. + +'Twas in this posture that, flinging a glance across the room, I saw the +Captain's sword describe a small circle of light, and next moment, with +a sharp cry, Anthony caught at the blade, and stagger'd against the +wall, pinn'd through the chest to the wainscoting. + +“Out with the lights, Dick!” bawl'd Settle, tugging out his point. +“Quick, fool--the window!” + +Dick, with a back sweep of his hand, sent the candles flying off the +shelf; and, save for the flicker of the hearth, we were in darkness. +I felt, rather than saw, his rush toward me; leap'd aside; and brought +down my chair with a crash on his skull. He went down like a ninepin, +but scrambled up in a trice, and was running for the window. + +There was a shout below as the Captain thrust the lattice open: another, +and the two dark forms had clambered through the purple square of the +casement, and dropped into the bowling-green below. + +By this, I had made my way across the room, and found Anthony sunk +against the wall, with his feet outstretched. There was something he +held out toward me, groping for my hand and at the same time whispering +in a thick, choking voice-- + +“Here, Jack, here: pocket it quick!” + +'Twas a letter, and as my fingers closed on it they met a damp smear, +the meaning of which was but too plain. + +“Button it--sharp--in thy breast: now feel for my sword.” + +“First let me tend thy hurt, dear lad.” + +“Nay--quickly, my sword! 'Tis pretty, Jack, to hear thee say 'dear lad.' +A cheat to die like this--could have laugh'd for years yet. The dice +were cogg'd--hast found it?” + +I groped beside him, found the hilt, and held it up. + +“So--'tis thine, Jack: and my mare, Molly, and the letter to take. Say +to Delia--Hark! they are on the stairs. Say to--” + +With a shout the door was flung wide, and on the threshold stood the +Watch, their lanterns held high and shining in Anthony's white face, and +on the black stain where his doublet was thrown open. + +In numbers they were six or eight, led by a small, wrynecked man that +held a long staff, and wore a gilt chain over his furr'd collar. Behind, +in the doorway, were huddled half a dozen women, peering: and Master +Davenant at the back of all, his great face looming over their shoulders +like a moon. + +“Now, speak up, Master Short!” + +“Aye, that I will--that I will: but my head is considering of affairs,” + answered Master Short--he of the wryneck. “One, two, three--” He look'd +round the room, and finding but one capable of resisting (for the potboy +was by this time in a fit), clear'd his throat, and spoke up-- + +“In the king's name, I arrest you all--so help me God! Now what's the +matter?” + +“Murder,” said I, looking up from my work of staunching Anthony's wound. + +“Then forbear, and don't do it.” + +“Why, Master Short, they've been forbearin' these ten minutes,” a +woman's voice put in. + +“Hush, and hear Master Short: he knows the law, an' all the dubious +maxims of the same.” + +“Aye, aye: he says forbear i' the King's name, which is to say, that +other forbearing is neither law nor grace. Now then, Master Short!” + +Thus exhorted, the man of law continued-- + +“I charge ye as honest men to disperse!” + +“Odds truth, Master Short, why you've just laid 'em under arrest!” + +“H'm, true: then let 'em stay so--in the king's name--and have done with +it.” + +Master Short, in fact, was growing testy: but now the women push'd +by him, and, by screaming at the sight of blood, put him out of all +patience. Dragging them back by the skirts, he told me he must take the +depositions, and pull'd out pen and ink horn. + +“Sirs,” said I, laying poor Anthony's head softly back, “you are too +late: whilst ye were cackling my friend is dead.” + +“Then, young man, thou must come along.” + +“Come along?” + +“The charge is _homocidium_, or manslaying, with or without malice +prepense--” + +“But--” I look'd round. The potboy was insensible, and my eyes fell on +Master Davenant, who slowly shook his head. + +“I'll say not a word,” said he, stolidly: “lost twenty pound, one time, +by a lawsuit.” + +“Pack of fools!” I cried, driven beyond endurance. “The guilty ones have +escap'd these ten minutes. Now stop me who dares!” + +And dashing my left fist on the nose of a watchman who would have seized +me, I clear'd a space with Anthony's sword, made a run for the casement, +and dropp'd out upon the bowling-green. + +A pretty shout went up as I pick'd myself off the turf and rush'd for +the back door. 'Twas unbarr'd, and in a moment I found myself tearing +down the passage and out into the Corn Market, with a score or so +tumbling downstairs at my heels, and yelling to stop me. Turning sharp +to my right, I flew up Ship Street, and through the Turl, and doubled +back up the High Street, sword in hand. The people I pass'd were too far +taken aback, as I suppose, to interfere. But a many must have join'd in +the chase: for presently the street behind me was thick with the clatter +of footsteps and cries of “A thief--a thief! Stop him!” + +At Quater Voies I turn'd again, and sped down toward St. Aldate's, +thence to the left by Wild Boar Street, and into St. Mary's Lane. By +this, the shouts had grown fainter, but were still following. Now I knew +there was no possibility to get past the city gates, which were +well guarded at night. My hope reach'd no further than the chance of +outwitting the pursuit for a while longer. In the end I was sure the +potboy's evidence would clear me, and therefore began to enjoy the fun. +Even my certain expulsion from College on the morrow seem'd of a piece +with the rest of events and (prospectively) a matter for laughter. For +the struggle at the “Crown” had unhinged my wits, as I must suppose and +you must believe, if you would understand my behavior in the next half +hour. + +A bright thought had struck me: and taking a fresh wind, I set off again +round the corner of Oriel College, and down Merton Street toward Master +Timothy Carter's house, my mother's cousin. This gentleman--who was town +clerk to the Mayor and Corporation of Oxford--was also in a sense my +guardian, holding it trust about L200 (which was all my inheritance), +and spending the same jealously on my education. He was a very small, +precise lawyer, about sixty years old, shaped like a pear, with a +prodigious self-important manner that came of associating with great +men: and all the knowledge I had of him was pick'd up on the rare +occasions (about twice a year) that I din'd at his table. He had early +married and lost an aged shrew, whose money had been the making of him: +and had more respect for law and authority than any three men in Oxford. +So that I reflected, with a kind of desperate hilarity, on the greeting +he was like to give me. + +This kinsman of mine had a fine house at the east end of Merton Street +as you turn into Logic Lane: and I was ten yards from the front door, +and running my fastest, when suddenly I tripp'd and fell headlong. + +Before I could rise, a hand was on my shoulder, and a voice speaking in +my ear-- + +“Pardon, comrade. We are two of a trade, I see.” + +'Twas a fellow that had been lurking at the corner of the lane, and had +thrust out a leg as I pass'd. He was pricking up his ears now to the +cries of “Thief--thief!” that had already reach'd the head of the +street, and were drawing near. + +“I am no thief,” said I. + +“Quick!” He dragged me into the shadow of the lane. “Hast a crown in thy +pocket?” + +“Why?” + +“Why, for a good turn. I'll fog these gentry for thee. Many thanks, +comrade,” as I pull'd out the last few shillings of my pocket money. +“Now pitch thy sword over the wall here, and set thy foot on my hand. +'Tis a rich man's garden, t'other side, that I was meaning to explore +myself; but another night will serve.” + +“'Tis Master Carter's,” said I; “and he's my kinsman.” + +“The devil!--but never mind, up with thee! Now mark a pretty piece of +play. 'Tis pity thou shouldst be across the wall and unable to see.” + +He gave a great hoist: catching at the coping of the wall, I pull'd +myself up and sat astride of it. + +“Good turf below--ta-ta, comrade!” + +By now, the crowd was almost at the corner. Dropping about eight feet on +to good turf, as the fellow had said, I pick'd myself up and listen'd. + +“Which way went he?” call'd one, as they came near. + +“Down the street!” “No: up the lane!'” “Hush!” “Up the lane, I'll be +sworn.” “Here, hand the lantern!” &c., &c. + +While they debated, my friend stood close on the other side of the wall: +but now I heard him dash suddenly out, and up the lane for his life. +“There he goes!” “Stop him!” the cries broke out afresh. “Stop him, i' +the king's name!” The whole pack went pelting by, shouting, stumbling, +swearing. + +For two minutes or more the stragglers continued to hurry past by ones +and twos. As soon as their shouts died away, I drew freer breath and +look'd around. + +I was in a small, turfed garden, well stock'd with evergreen shrubs, +at the back of a tall house that I knew for Master Carter's. But what +puzzled me was a window in the first floor, very brightly lit, and +certain sounds issuing therefrom that had no correspondence with my +kinsman's reputation. + + “It was a frog leap'd into a pool-- + Fol--de--riddle, went souse in the middle! + Says he, This is better than moping in school. + With a--” + +“--Your Royal Highness, have some pity! What hideous folly! Oh, dear, +dear--” + + “With a fa-la-tweedle-tweedle, + Tiddifol-iddifol-ido!” + +“--Your Royal Highness, I _cannot_ sing the dreadful stuff! Think of my +grey hairs!” + +“Tush! Master Carter--nonsense; 'tis choicely well sung. Come, brother, +the chorus!” + + “With a fa-la--” + + +And the chorus was roar'd forth, with shouts of laughter and clinking +of glasses. Then came an interval of mournful appeal, and my kinsman's +voice was again lifted---- + + “He scattered the tadpoles, and set 'em agog, + Hey! nod-noddy-all head and no body! + Oh, mammy! Oh, minky!--” + +“--O, mercy, mercy! it makes me sweat for shame.” + +Now meantime I had been searching about the garden, and was lucky enough +to find a tool shed, and inside of this a ladder hanging, which now I +carried across and planted beneath the window. I had a shrewd notion of +what I should find at the top, remembering now to have heard that the +Princes Rupert and Maurice were lodging with Master Carter: but the +truth beat all my fancies. + +For climbing softly up and looking in, I beheld my poor kinsman perch'd +on his chair a-top of the table, in the midst of glasses, decanters, and +desserts: his wig askew, his face white, save where, between the eyes, +a medlar had hit and broken, and his glance shifting wildly between the +two princes, who in easy postures, loose and tipsy, lounged on either +side of him, and beat with their glasses on the board. + +“Bravissimo! More, Master Carter--more!” + + “O mammy, O nunky, here's cousin Jack Frog-- + With a fa-la--” + +I lifted my knuckles and tapp'd on the pane; whereon Prince Maurice +starts up with an oath, and coming to the window, flings it open. + +“Pardon, your Highness,” said I, and pull'd myself past him into the +room, as cool as you please. + +'Twas worth while to see their surprise. Prince Maurice ran back to the +table for his sword: his brother (being more thoroughly drunk) dropped +a decanter on the floor, and lay back staring in his chair. While as for +my kinsman, he sat with mouth wide and eyes starting, as tho' I were +a very ghost. In the which embarrassment I took occasion to say, very +politely-- + +“Good evening, nunky!” + +“Who the devil is this?” gasps Prince Rupert. + +“Why the fact is, your Highnesses,” answered I, stepping up and laying +my sword on the table, while I pour'd out a glass, “Master Timothy +Carter here is my guardian, and has the small sum of L200 in his +possession for my use, of which I happen to-night to stand in immediate +need. So you see--” I finished the sentence by tossing off a glass. +“This is rare stuff!” I said. + +“Blood and fury!” burst out Prince Rupert, fumbling for his sword, and +then gazing, drunk and helpless. + +“Two hundred pound! Thou jackanapes--” began Master Carter. + +“I'll let you off with fifty to-night,” said I. + +“Ten thousand--!” + +“No, fifty. Indeed, nunky,” I went on, “'tis very simple. I was at the +'Crown' tavern--” + +“At a tavern!” + +“Aye, at a game of dice--” + +“Dice!” + +“Aye, and a young man was killed--” + +“Thou shameless puppy! A man murder'd!” + +“Aye, nunky; and the worst is they say 'twas I that kill'd him.” + +“He's mad. The boy's stark raving mad!” exclaim'd my kinsman. “To come +here in this trim!” + +“Why, truly, nunky, thou art a strange one to talk of appearances. Oh, +dear!” and I burst into a wild fit of laughing, for the wine had warm'd +me up to play the comedy out. “To hear thee sing + + “'With a fa--la--tweedle--tweedle!' + +and--Oh, nunky, that medlar on thy face is so funny!” + +“In Heaven's name, stop!” broke in the Prince Maurice. “Am I mad, or +only drunk? Rupert, if you love me, say I am no worse than drunk.” + +“Lord knows,” answer'd his brother. “I for one was never this way +before.” + +“Indeed, your Highnesses be only drunk,” said I, “and able at that to +sign the order that I shall ask you for.” + +“An order!” + +“To pass the city gates to-night.” + +“Oh, stop him somebody,” groan'd Prince Rupert: “my head is whirling.” + +“With your leave,” I explain'd, pouring out another glassful: “tis the +simplest matter, and one that a child could understand. You see, this +young man was kill'd, and they charg'd me with it; so away I ran, and +the Watch after me; and therefore I wish to pass the city gates. And as +I may have far to travel, and gave my last groat to a thief for hoisting +me over Master Carter's wall--” + +“A thief--my wall!” repeated Master Carter. “Oh well is thy poor mother +in her grave!” + +“--Why, therefore I came for money,” I wound up, sipping the wine, and +nodding to all present. + +'Twas at this moment that, catching my eye, the Prince Maurice slapp'd +his leg, and leaning back, broke into peal after peal of laughter. And +in a moment his brother took the jest also; and there we three sat and +shook, and roar'd unquenchably round Master Carter, who, staring blankly +from one to another, sat gaping, as though the last alarm were sounding +in his ears. + +“Oh! oh! oh! Hit me on the back, Maurice!” + +“Oh! oh! I cannot--'tis killing me--Master Carter, for pity's sake, look +not so; but pay the lad his money.” + +“Your Highness----” + +“Pay it I say; pay it: 'tis fairly won.” + +“Fifty pounds!” + +“Every doit,” said I: “I'm sick of schooling.” + +“Be hang'd if I do!” snapp'd Master Carter. + +“Then be hang'd, sir, but all the town shall hear to-morrow of the frog +and the pool! No, sir: I am off to see the world---- + + “'Says he: “This is better than moping in school!”'” + +“Your Highnesses,” pleaded the unhappy man, “if, to please you, I sang +that idiocy, which, for fifty years now, I had forgotten----” + +“Exc'll'nt shong,” says Prince Rupert, waking up; “less have't again!” + + * * * * * + +To be short, ten o'clock was striking from St. Mary's spire when, with a +prince on either side of me, and thirty guineas in my pocket (which was +all the loose gold he had), I walked forth from Master Carter's door. To +make up the deficiency, their highnesses had insisted on furnishing +me with a suit made up from the simplest in their joint +wardrobes--riding-boots, breeches, buff-coat, sash, pistols, cloak, and +feather'd hat, all of which fitted me excellently well. By the doors of +Christ Church, before we came to the south gate, Prince Rupert, who had +been staggering in his walk, suddenly pull'd up, and leaned against the +wall. + +“Why--odd's my life--we've forgot a horse for him!” he cried. + +“Indeed, your Highness,” I answered, “if my luck holds the same, I shall +find one by the road.” (How true this turned out you shall presently +hear.) + +There was no difficulty at the gate, where the sentry recogniz'd the two +princes and open'd the wicket at once. Long after it had clos'd behind +me, and I stood looking back at Oxford towers, all bath'd in the winter +moonlight, I heard the two voices roaring away up the street: + + “It was a frog leap'd into a pool--” + +At length they died into silence; and, hugging the king's letter in my +breast, I stepped briskly forward on my travels. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +I TAKE THE ROAD. + + +So puffed up was I by the condescension of the two princes, and my head +so busy with big thoughts, that not till I was over the bridges and +climbing the high ground beyond South Hincksey, with a shrewd northeast +wind at my back, could I spare time for a second backward look. By this, +the city lay spread at my feet, very delicate and beautiful in a silver +network, with a black clump or two to southward, where the line of +Bagley trees ran below the hill. I pulled out the letter that Anthony +had given me. In the moonlight the brown smear of his blood was plain to +see, running across the superscription: + +“_To our trusty and well beloved Sir Ralph Hopton, at our Army in +Cornwall--these._” + +'Twas no more than I look'd for; yet the sight of it and the king's red +seal, quicken'd my step as I set off again. And I cared not a straw for +Dr. Kettle's wrath on the morrow. + +Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay +around Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape +my course for Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. 'Tis not my +purpose to describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to reserve +my pen for those more moving events that overtook me later. Only in the +uncertain light I must have taken a wrong turn to the left (I think near +Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for, coming about daybreak +to a considerable town, I found it to be, not Faringdon, but Wantage. +There was no help for it, so I set about enquiring for a bed. The town +was full, and already astir with preparations for cattle-fair; and +neither at the “Bear” nor the “Three Nuns” was there a bed to be had. +But at length at the “Boot” tavern--a small house, I found one just +vacated by a couple of drovers, and having cozen'd the chambermaid to +allow me a clean pair of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in +five minutes was sleeping sound. + +I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of womankind. + +“He's waking,” said one. + +“Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus--and he such a pretty young man!” + +This came from the landlady, who stood close, her hand shaking my +shoulder roughly. + +“What's amiss?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. + +“Why, 'tis three of the afternoon.” + +“Then I'll get up, as soon as you retire.” + +“Lud! we've been trying to wake thee this hour past; but 'twas +sleep--sleep!” + +“I'll get up, I tell you.” + +“Thought thee'd ha' slept through the bed and right through to the +floor,” said the chambermaid by the door, tittering. + +“Unless you pack and go, I'll step out amongst you all!” + +Whereat they fled with mock squeals, calling out that the very thought +made them blush: and left me to dress. + +Downstairs I found a giant's breakfast spread for me, and ate the hole, +and felt the better for it: and thereupon paid my scot, resisting the +landlady's endeavor to charge me double for the bed, and walked out to +see the town. + +“Take care o' thysel',” the chambermaid bawled after me; “nor flourish +thy attainments abroad, lest they put thee in a show!” + +Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended +purchasing a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over, the +cattle-pens broken up, and the dealers gather'd round the fiddlers, +ballad singers, and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming booths, too, +driving a brisk trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and Costly Colors; and +an eating tent, whence issued a thick reek of cooking and loud rattle of +plates. Over the entrance, I remember, was set a notice: “_Dame Alloway +from Bartholomew Fair. Here are the best geese, and she does them as +well as ever she did_.” I jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my +pockets, for fear of cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the +street, there arose the noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward +it; and in a minute I was left alone, standing before a juggler who had +a sword halfway down his throat, and had to draw it out again before +he could with any sufficiency curse the defection of his audience; but +offered to pull out a tooth for me if I wanted it. + +I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn'd the cause of this +tumult. + +'Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking pockets: +and they were dragging him off to be duck'd. Now in the heart of Wantage +the little stream that runs through the town is widen'd into a cistern +about ten feet square, and five in depth, over which hung a ducking +stool for scolding wives. And since the townspeople draw their water +from this cistern, 'tis to be supposed they do not fear the infection. A +long beam on a pivot hangs out over the pool, and to the end is a chair +fasten'd; into which, despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped +this poor wretch, whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him. + +Souse! he was plunged: hauled up choking and dripping: then--just as he +found tongue to shriek--souse! again. + +'Twas a dismal punishment; and this time they kept him under for a full +half minute. But as the beam was lifted again, I heard a hullaballoo and +a cry-- + +“The bear! the bear!” + +And turning, I saw a great brown form lumbering down the street behind, +and driving the people before it like chaff. + +The crowd at the brink of the pool scatter'd to right and left, yelling. +Up flew the beam of the ducking stool, reliev'd of their weight, and +down with a splash went the pickpocket at the far end. As well for my +own skin's sake as out of pity to see him drowning, I jumped into the +water. In two strokes I reach'd him, gained footing, and with Anthony's +sword cut the straps away and pull'd him up. And there we stood, up to +our necks, coughing and spluttering; while on the deserted brink the +bear sniff'd at the water and regarded us. + +No doubt we appear'd contemptible enough: for after a time he turned +with a louder sniff, and went his way lazily up the street again. He had +broken out from the pit wherein, for the best part of the day, they had +baited him; yet seemed to bear little malice. For he saunter'd about +the town for an hour or two, hurting no man, but making a clean sweep +of every sweet stall in his way; and was taken at last very easily, with +his head in a treacle cask, by the bear ward and a few dogs. + +Meanwhile the pickpocket and I had scrambled out by the further bank and +wrung our clothes. He seemed to resent his treatment no more than did +the bear. + +“Ben cove--'tis a good world. My thanks!” + +And with this scant gratitude he was gone, leaving me to make my way +back to the sign of “The Boot,” where the chambermaid led me upstairs, +and took away my clothes to dry by the fire. I determin'd to buy a +horse on the morrow, and with my guineas and the King's letter under the +pillow, dropp'd off to slumber again. + +My powers of sleep must have been nois'd abroad by the hostess: for next +morning at the breakfast ordinary, the dealers and drovers laid down +knife and fork to stare as I enter'd. After a while one or two lounged +out and brought in others to look: so that soon I was in a ring of +stupid faces, all gazing like so many cows. + +For a while I affected to eat undisturbed: but lost patience at last and +addressed a red-headed gazer---- + +“If you take me for a show, you ought to pay.” + +“That's fair,” said the fellow, and laid a groat on the board. This came +near to putting me in a passion, but his face was serious. “'Tis a real +pleasure,” he added heartily, “to look on one so gifted.” + +“If any of you,” I said, “could sell me a horse----” + +At once there was a clamor, all bidding in one breath for my custom. So +finishing my breakfast, I walked out with them to the tavern yard, where +I had my pick among the sorriest-looking dozen of nags in England, and +finally bought from the red-haired man, for five pounds, bridle, saddle, +and a flea-bitten grey that seem'd more honestly raw-boned than the +rest. And the owner wept tears at the parting with his beast, and +thereby added a pang to the fraud he had already put upon me. And I rode +from the tavern door suspecting laughter in the eyes of every passer-by. + +The day ['twas drawing near noon as I started) was cold and clear, with +a coating of rime over the fields: and my horse's feet rang cheerfully +on the frozen road. His pace was of the soberest: but, as I was no +skilful rider, this suited me rather than not. Only it was galling to be +told so, as happened before I had gone three miles. + +'Twas my friend the pickpocket: and he sat before a fire of dry sticks a +little way back from the road. His scanty hair, stiff as a badger's, +now stood upright around his batter'd cap, and he look'd at me over the +bushes, with his hook'd nose thrust forward like a bird's beak. + +“Bien lightmans, comrade--good day! 'Tis a good world; so stop and +dine.” + +I pull'd up my grey. + +“Glad you find it so,” I answered; “you had a nigh chance to compare it +with the next, last night.” + +“Shan't do so well i' the next, I fear,” he said with a twinkle: “but +I owe thee something, and here's a hedgehog that in five minutes'll be +baked to a turn. 'Tis a good world, and the better that no man can count +on it. Last night my dripping duds helped me to a cant tale, and got me +a silver penny from a man of religion. Good's in the worst; and life's +like hunting the squirrel--a man gets much good exercise thereat, but +seldom what he hunts for.” + +“That's as good morality as Aristotle's,” said I. + +“'Tis better for _me_, because 'tis mine.” While I tether'd my horse he +blew at the embers, wherein lay a good-sized ball of clay, baking. After +a while he look'd up with red cheeks. “They were so fast set on drowning +me,” he continued with a wink, “they couldn't spare time to look i' my +pocket--the ruffin cly them!” + +He pull'd the clay ball out of the fire, crack'd it, and lo! inside was +a hedgehog cook'd, the spikes sticking in the clay, and coming away with +it. So he divided the flesh with his knife, and upon a slice of bread +from his wallet it made very delicate eating: tho' I doubt if I enjoyed +it as much as did my comrade, who swore over and over that the world +was good, and as the wintry sun broke out, and the hot ashes warm'd his +knees, began to chatter at a great pace. + +“Why, sir, but for the pretty uncertainty of things I'd as lief die here +as I sit----” + +He broke off at the sound of wheels, and a coach with two postillions +spun past us on the road. + +I had just time to catch a glimpse of a figure huddled in the corner, +and a sweet pretty girl with chestnut curls seated beside it, behind the +glass. After the coach came a heavy broad-shoulder'd servant riding on +a stout grey; who flung us a sharp glance as he went by, and at twenty +yards' distance turn'd again to look. + +“That's luck,” observed the pickpocket, as the travelers disappear'd +down the highway: “Tomorrow, with a slice of it, I might be riding in +such a coach as that, and have the hydropsy, to boot. Good lack! when I +was ta'en prisoner by the Turks a-sailing i' the _Mary_ of London, +and sold for a slave at Algiers, I escap'd, after two months, with Eli +Sprat, a Gravesend man, in a small open boat. Well, we sail'd three +days and nights, and all the time there was a small sea bird following, +flying round and round us, and calling two notes that sounded for all +the world like 'Wind'ard! Wind'ard!' So at last says Eli, ''Tis heaven's +voice bidding us ply to wind'ard.' And so we did, and on the fourth day +made Marseilles; and who should be first to meet Eli on the quay but a +Frenchwoman he had married five years before, and left. And the jade had +him clapp'd in the pillory, alongside of a cheating fishmonger with a +collar of stinking smelts, that turn'd poor Eli's stomach completely. +Now there's somewhat to set against the story of Whittington next time +'tis told you.” + +I was now for bidding the old rascal good-bye. But he offer'd to go with +me as far as Hungerford, where we should turn into the Bath road. At +first I was shy of accepting, by reason of his coat, wherein patches of +blue, orange-tawny and flame-color quite overlaid the parent black: but +closed with him upon his promise to teach me the horsemanship that I so +sadly lacked. And by time we enter'd Hungerford town I was advanced so +far, and bestrode my old grey so easily, that in gratitude I offer'd him +supper and bed at an inn, if he would but buy a new coat: to which he +agreed, saying that the world was good. + +By this, the day was clouded over and the rain coming down apace. So +that as soon as my comrade was decently array'd at the first slopshop +we came to, 'twas high time to seek an inn. We found quarters at “The +Horn,” and sought the travelers' room, and a fire to dry ourselves. + +In this room, at the window, were two men who look'd lazily up at our +entrance. They were playing at a game, which was no other than to race +two snails up a pane of glass and wager which should prove the faster. + +“A wet day!” said my comrade, cheerfully. + +The pair regarded him. “I'll lay you a crown it clears within the hour!” + said one. + +“And I another,” put in the other; and with that they went back to their +sport. + +Drawing near, I myself was soon as eager as they in watching the snails, +when my companion drew my notice to a piece of writing on the window +over which they were crawling. 'Twas a set of verses scribbled there, +that must have been scratch'd with a diamond: and to my surprise--for I +had not guess'd him a scholar--he read them out for my benefit. Thus the +writing ran, for I copied it later: + +“_Master Ephraim Tucker_, his dying councell to wayfardingers; to seek +_The Splendid Spur_. + + “Not on the necks of prince or hound, + Nor on a woman's finger twin'd, + May gold from the deriding ground + Keep sacred that we sacred bind + Only the heel + Of splendid steel + Shall stand secure on sliding fate, + When golden navies weep their freight. + + “The scarlet hat, the laurell'd stave + Are measures, not the springs, of worth; + In a wife's lap, as in a grave, + Man's airy notions mix with earth. + Seek other spur + Bravely to stir + The dust in this loud world, and tread + Alp-high among the whisp'ring dead. + + “_Trust in thyself_,--then spur amain: + So shall Charybdis wear a grace, + Grim Aetna laugh, the Lybian plain + Take roses to her shrivell'd face. + This orb--this round + Of sight and sound-- + Count it the lists that God hath built + For haughty hearts to ride a-tilt. + +“FINIS-Master Tucker's Farewell.” + +“And a very pretty moral on four gentlemen that pass their afternoon a +setting snails to race!” + +At these words, spoken in a delicate foreign voice we all started round: +and saw a young lady standing behind us. + +Now that she was the one who had passed us in the coach I saw at once. +But describe her--to be plain--I cannot, having tried a many times. +So let me say only that she was the prettiest creature on God's earth +(which, I hope, will satisfy her); that she had chestnut curls and a +mouth made for laughing; that she wore a kirtle and bodice of grey silk +taffety, with a gold pomander-box hung on a chain about her neck; and +held out a drinking glass toward us with a Frenchified grace. + +“Gentlemen, my father is sick, and will taste no water but what is +freshly drawn. I ask you not to brave Charybdis or Aetna, but to step +out into the rainy yard and draw me a glassful from the pump there: for +our servant is abroad in the town.” + +To my deep disgust, before I could find a word, that villainous old +pickpocket had caught the glass from her hand and reached the door. But +I ran after; and out into the yard we stepp'd together, where I pump'd +while he held the glass to the spout, flinging away the contents time +after time, till the bubbles on the brim, and the film on the outside, +were to his liking. + +'Twas he, too, that gain'd the thanks on our return. + +“Mistress,” said he with a bow, “my young friend is raw, but has a +good will. Confess, now, for his edification--for he is bound on a long +journey westward, where, they tell me, the maidens grow comeliest--that +looks avail naught with womankind beside a dashing manner.” + +The young gentlewoman laughed, shaking her curls. + +“I'll give him in that case three better counsels yet: first (for by his +habit I see he is on the King's side), let him take a circuit from this +place to the south, for the road between Marlboro' and Bristol is, they +tell me, all held by the rebels; next, let him avoid all women, even +tho' they ask but an innocent cup of water; and lastly, let him shun +thee, unless thy face lie more than thy tongue. Shall I say more?” + +“Why, no--perhaps better not,” replied the old rogue hastily, but +laughing all the same. “That's a clever lass,” he added, as the door +shut behind her. + +And, indeed, I was fain, next morning, to agree to this. For, awaking, I +found my friend (who had shar'd a room with me) already up and gone, and +discovered the reason in a sheet of writing pinn'd to my clothes---- + +“Young Sir,--I convict myself of ingratitude: but habit is hard to +break. So I have made off with the half of thy guineas and thy horse. +The residue, and the letter thou bearest, I leave. 'Tis a good world, +and experience should be bought early. This golden lesson I leave in +return for the guineas. Believe me, 'tis of more worth. Read over those +verses on the windowpane before starting, digest them, and trust me, thy +obliged, + +“Peter, The Jackman. + +“Raise not thy hand so often to thy breast: 'tis a sure index of hidden +valuables.” + +Be sure I was wroth enough: nor did the calm interest of the two snail +owners appease me, when at breakfast I told them a part of the story. +But I thought I read sympathy in the low price at which one of them +offer'd me his horse. 'Twas a tall black brute, very strong in the +loins, and I bought him at once out of my shrunken stock of guineas. +At ten o'clock, I set out, not along the Bath road, but bearing to the +south, as the young gentlewoman had counselled. I began to hold a high +opinion of her advice. + +By twelve o'clock I was back at the inn door, clamoring to see the man +that sold me the horse, which had gone dead lame after the second mile. + +“Dear heart!” cried the landlord; “they are gone, the both, this hour +and a half. But they are coming again within the fortnight; and I'm +expressly to report if you return'd, as they had a wager about it.” + +I turn'd away, pondering. Two days on the road had put me sadly out of +conceit with myself. For mile upon mile I trudged, dragging the horse +after me by the bridle, till my arms felt as if coming from their +sockets. I would have turn'd the brute loose, and thought myself well +quit of him, had it not been for the saddle and bridle he carried. + + * * * * * + +'Twas about five in the evening, and I still laboring along, when, over +the low hedge to my right, a man on a sorrel mare leap'd easily as a +swallow, and alighted some ten paces or less in front of me; where he +dismounted and stood barring my path. The muzzle of his pistol was in my +face before I could lay hand to my own. + +“Good evening!” said I. + +“You have money about you, doubtless,” growled the man curtly, and in a +voice that made me start. For by his voice and figure in the dusk I knew +him for Captain Settle: and in the sorrel with the high white stocking +I recognized the mare, Molly, that poor Anthony Killigrew had given me +almost with his last breath. + +The bully did not know me, having but seen me for an instant at “The +Crown,” and then in very different attire. + +“I have but a few poor coins,” I answer'd. + +“Then hand 'em over.” + +“Be shot if I do!” said I in a passion; and pulling out a handful from +my pocket, I dash'd them down in the road. + +For a moment the Captain took his pistol from my face, and stooped to +clutch at the golden coins as they trickled and ran to right and +left. The next, I had struck out with my right fist, and down he went +staggering. His pistol dropped out of his hand and exploded between +my feet. I rush'd to Molly, caught her bridle, and leap'd on her back. +'Twas a near thing, for the Captain was rushing toward us. But at the +call of my voice the mare gave a bound and turn'd: and down the road I +was borne, light as a feather. + +A bullet whizz'd past my ear: I heard the Captain's curse mingle with +the report: and then was out of range, and galloping through the dusk. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE CUPS.” + + +Secure of pursuit, and full of delight in the mare's easy motion, I must +have travelled a good six miles before the moon rose. In the frosty +sky her rays sparkled cheerfully, and by them I saw on the holsters the +silver demi-bear that I knew to be the crest of the Killigrews, having +the fellow to it engraved on my sword-hilt. So now I was certain 'twas +Molly that I bestrode: and took occasion of the light to explore the +holsters and saddle flap. + +Poor Anthony's pistols were gone--filched, no doubt, by the Captain: +but you may guess my satisfaction, when on thrusting my hand deeper, I +touched a heap of coins, and found them to be gold. + +'Twas certainly a rare bargain I had driven with Captain Settle. For +the five or six gold pieces I scatter'd on the road, I had won close +on thirty guineas, as I counted in the moonlight; not to speak of this +incomparable Molly. And I began to whistle gleefully, and taste the joke +over again and laugh to myself, as we cantered along with the north wind +at our backs. + +All the same, I had no relish for riding thus till morning. For the +night was chill enough to search my very bones after the heat of the +late gallop: and, moreover, I knew nothing of the road, which at this +hour was quite deserted. So that, coming at length to a tall hill with a +black ridge of pine wood standing up against the moon like a fish's fin, +I was glad enough to note below it, and at some distance from the trees, +a window brightly lit; and pushed forward in hope of entertainment. + +The building was an inn, though a sorry one. Nor, save for the lighted +window, did it wear any grace of hospitality, but thrust out a bare +shoulder upon the road, and a sign that creaked overhead and look'd for +all the world like a gallows. Round this shoulder of the house, and into +the main yard (that turn'd churlishly toward the hillside), the wind +howled like a beast in pain. I climb'd off Molly, and pressing my hat +down on my head, struck a loud rat-tat on the door. + +Curiously, it opened at once; and I saw a couple of men in the lighted +passage. + +“Heard the mare's heels on the road, Cap--. Hillo! What in the fiend's +name is this?” + +Said I: “If you are he that keeps this house, I want two things of +you--first, a civil tongue, and next a bed.” + +“Ye'll get neither, then.” + +“Your sign says that you keep an inn.” + +“Aye--the 'Three Cups': but we're full.” + +“Your manner of speech proves that to be a lie.” + +I liked the fellow's voice so little that 'tis odds I would have +re-mounted Molly and ridden away; but at this instant there floated down +the stairs and out through the drink-smelling passage a sound that made +me jump. 'Twas a girl's voice singing---- + + “Hey nonni--nonni--no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is't not fine to laugh and sing + When the hells of death do ring----” + +There was no doubt upon it. The voice belonged to the young gentlewoman +I had met at Hungerford. I turned sharply toward the landlord, and was +met by another surprise. The second man, that till now had stood well +back in the shadow, was peering forward, and devouring Molly with his +gaze. 'Twas hard to read his features, but then and there I would have +wagered my life he was no other than Luke Settle's comrade, Black Dick. + +My mind was made up. “I'll not ride a step further, to-night,” said I. + +“Then bide there and freeze,” answer'd the landlord. + +He was for slamming the door in my face, when the other caught him +by the arm and, pulling him a little back, whisper'd a word or two. I +guess'd what this meant, but resolved not to draw back; and presently +the landlord's voice began again, betwixt surly and polite---- + +“Have ye too high a stomach to lie on straw?” + +“Oho!” thought I to myself, “then I am to be kept for the mare's sake, +but not admitted to the house:” and said aloud that I could put up with +a straw bed. + +“Because there's the stable loft at your service. As ye hear” (and in +fact the singing still went on, only now I heard a man's voice joining +in the catch) “our house is full of company. But straw is clean bedding, +and the mare I'll help to put in stall.” + +“Agreed,” I said, “on one condition--that you send out a maid to me with +a cup of mulled sack: for this cold eats me alive.” + +To this he consented: and stepping back into a side room with the other +fellow, returned in a minute alone, and carrying a lantern which, in +spite of the moon, was needed to guide a stranger across that ruinous +yard. The flare, as we pick'd our way along, fell for a moment on +an open cart shed and, within, on the gilt panels of a coach that I +recogniz'd. In the stable, that stood at the far end of the court, I +was surprised to find half a dozen horses standing, ready saddled, and +munching their fill of oats. They were ungroom'd, and one or two in +a lather of sweat that on such a night was hard to account for. But I +asked no questions, and my companion vouchsafed no talk, though twice +I caught him regarding me curiously as I unbridled the mare in the +only vacant stall. Not a word pass'd as he took the lantern off the peg +again, and led the way up a ramshackle ladder to the loft above. He was +a fat, lumbering fellow, and made the old timbers creak. At the top he +set down the light, and pointed to a heap of straw in the corner. + +“Yon's your bed,” he growled; and before I could answer, was picking his +way down the ladder again. + +I look'd about, and shiver'd. The eaves of my bedchamber were scarce on +speaking terms with the walls, and through a score of crannies at least +the wind poured and whistled, so that after shifting my truss of straw +a dozen times I found myself still the centre of a whirl of draught. The +candle-flame, too, was puffed this way and that inside the horn sheath. +I was losing patience when I heard footsteps below; the ladder creak'd, +and the red hair and broad shoulders of a chambermaid rose into view. +She carried a steaming mug in her hand, and mutter'd all the while in no +very choice talk. + +The wench had a kind face, tho'; and a pair of eyes that did her more +credit than her tongue. + +“And what's to be my reward for this, I want to know?” she panted out, +resting her left palm on her hip. + +“Why, a groat or two,” said I, “when it comes to the reckoning.” + +“Lud!” she cried, “what a dull young man!” + +“Dull?” + +“Aye--to make me ask for a kiss in so many words:” and with the back of +her left hand she wiped her mouth for it frankly, while she held out the +mug in her right. + +“Oh!” I said, “I beg your pardon, but my wits are frozen up, I think. +There's two, for interest: and another if you tell me whom your master +entertains to-night, that I must be content with this crib.” + +She took the kisses with composure and said--- + +“Well--to begin, there's the gentlefolk that came this afternoon with +their own carriage and heathenish French servant: a cranky old grandee +and a daughter with more airs than a peacock: Sir Something-or-other +Killigew--Lord bless the boy!” + +For I had dropp'd the mug and split the hot sack all about the straw, +where it trickled away with a fragrance reproachfully delicious. + +“Now I beg your pardon a hundred times: but the chill is in my bones +worse than the ague;” and huddling my shoulders up, I counterfeited a +shivering fit with a truthfulness that surpris'd myself. + +“Poor lad!” + +“--And 'tis first hot and then cold all down my spine.” + +“There, now!” + +“-And goose flesh and flushes all over my body.” + +“Dear heart-and to pass the night in this grave of a place!” + +“--And by morning I shall be in a high fever: and oh! I feel I shall die +of it!” + +“Don't--don't!” The honest girl's eyes were full of tears. “I wonder, +now--” she began: and I waited, eager for her next words. “Sure, +master's at cards in the parlor, and 'll be drunk by midnight. Shalt +pass the night by the kitchen fire, if only thou make no noise.” + +“But your mistress--what will she say?” + +“Is in heaven these two years: and out of master's speaking distance +forever. So blow out the light and follow me gently.” + +Still feigning to shiver, I follow'd her down the ladder, and through +the stable into the open. The wind by this time had brought up some +heavy clouds, and mass'd them about the moon: but 'twas freezing hard, +nevertheless. The girl took me by the hand to guide me: for, save from +the one bright window in the upper floor, there was no light at all in +the yard. Clearly, she was in dread of her master's anger, for we stole +across like ghosts, and once or twice she whisper'd a warning when my +toe kick'd against a loose cobble. But just as I seem'd to be walking +into a stone wall, she put out her hand, I heard the click of a latch, +and stood in a dark, narrow passage. + +The passage led to a second door that open'd on a wide, stone-pav'd +kitchen, lit by a cheerful fire, whereon a kettle hissed and bubbled as +the vapor lifted the cover. Close by the chimney corner was a sort of +trap, or buttery hatch, for pushing the hot dishes conveniently into the +parlor on the other side of the wall. Besides this, for furniture, the +room held a broad deal table, an oak dresser, a linen press, a rack with +hams and strings of onions depending from it, a settle and a chair or +two, with (for decoration) a dozen or so of ballad sheets stuck among +the dish covers along the wall. + +“Sit,” whisper'd the girl, “and make no noise, while I brew a rack-punch +for the men-folk in the parlor.” She jerked her thumb toward the buttery +hatch, where I had already caught the mur-mer of voices. + +I took up a chair softly, and set it down between the hatch and the +fireplace, so that while warming my knees I could catch any word spoken +more than ordinary loud on the other side of the wall. The chambermaid +stirr'd the fire briskly, and moved about singing as she fetch'd down +bottles and glasses from the dresser---- + + “Lament ye maids an' darters + For constant Sarah Ann, + Who hang'd hersel' in her garters + All for the love o' man, + All for the--” + +She was pausing, bottle in hand, to take the high note: but hush'd +suddenly at the sound of the voices singing in the room upstairs--- + + “Vivre en tout cas + C'est le grand soulas + Des honnetes gens!” + +“That's the foreigners,” said the chambermaid, and went on with her +ditty---- + + “All for the love of a souljer + Who christening name was Jan.” + +A volley of oaths sounded through the buttery hatch. + +“--And that's the true-born Englishmen, as you may tell by their speech. +'Tis pretty company the master keeps, these days.” + +She was continuing her song, when I held up a finger for silence. +In fact, through the hatch my ear had caught a sentence that set me +listening for more with a still heart. + +“D--n the Captain,” the landlord's gruff voice was saying; “I warn'd 'n +agen this fancy business when sober, cool-handed work was toward.” + +“Settle's way from his cradle,” growl'd another; “and times enough I've +told 'n: 'Cap'n,' says I, 'there's no sense o' proportions about ye.' A +master mind, sirs, but 'a 'll be hang'd for a hen-roost, so sure as my +name's Bill Widdicomb.” + +“Ugly words-what a creeping influence has that same mention o' hanging!” + piped a thinner voice. + +“Hold thy complaints, Old Mortification,” put in a speaker that I +recogniz'd for Black Dick; “sure the pretty maid upstairs is tender +game. Hark how they sing!” + +And indeed the threatened folk upstairs were singing their catch very +choicely, with a girl's clear voice to lead them--- + + “Comment dit papa + --Margoton, ma mie?” + +“Heathen language, to be sure,” said the thin voice again, as the chorus +ceased: “thinks I to mysel' 'they be but Papisters,' an' my doubting +mind is mightily reconcil'd to manslaughter.” + +“I don't like beginning 'ithout the Cap'n,” observed Black Dick: “though +I doubt something has miscarried. Else, how did that young spark ride in +upon the mare?” + +“An' that's what thy question should ha' been, Dick, with a pistol to +his skull.” + +“He'll keep till the morrow.” + +“We'll give Settle half-an-hour more,” said the landlord: “Mary!” he +push'd open the hatch, so that I had barely time to duck my head out of +view, “fetch in the punch, girl. How did'st leave the young man i' the +loft?' + +“Asleep, or nearly,” answer'd Mary-- + + “Who hang'd hersel' in her gar-ters, + All for the love o' man--” + +“--Anon, anon, master: wait only till I get the kettle on the boil.” + +The hatch was slipp'd to again. I stood up and made a step toward the +girl. + +“How many are they?” I ask'd, jerking a finger in the direction of the +parlor. + +“A dozen all but one.” + +“Where is the foreign guests' room?” + +“Left hand, on the first landing.” + +“The staircase?” + +“Just outside the door.” + +“Then sing--go on singing for your life.” + +“But--” + +“Sing!” + +“Dear heart, they'll murder thee! Oh! for pity's sake, let go my +wrist--- + + “'Lament, ye maids an' darters--'” + +I stole to the door and peep'd out. A lantern hung in the passage, and +showed the staircase directly in front of me. I stay'd for a moment +to pull off my boots, and, holding them in my left hand, crept up the +stairs. In the kitchen, the girl was singing and clattering the glasses +together. Behind the door, at the head of the stairs, I heard voices +talking. I slipp'd on my boots again and tapp'd on the panel. + +“Come in!” + +Let me try to describe that on which my eyes rested as I push'd the door +wide. 'Twas a long room, wainscoted half up the wall in some dark wood, +and in daytime lit by one window only, which now was hung with red +curtains. By the fireplace, where a brisk wood fire was crackling, +lean'd the young gentlewoman I had met at Hungerford, who, as she now +turn'd her eyes upon me, ceas'd fingering the guitar or mandoline that +she held against her waist, and raised her pretty head not without +curiosity. + +But 'twas on the table in the centre of the chamber that my gaze +settled; and on two men beside it, of whom I must speak more +particularly. + +The elder, who sat in a high-back'd chair, was a little, frail, deform'd +gentleman of about fifty, dress'd very richly in dark velvet and furs, +and wore on his head a velvet skullcap, round which his white hair stuck +up like a ferret's. But the oddest thing about him was a complexion +that any maid of sixteen would give her ears for--of a pink and white +so transparent that it seem'd a soft light must be glowing beneath his +skin. On either cheek bone this delicate coloring centred in a deeper +flush. This is as much as I need say about his appearance, except that +his eyes were very bright and sharp, and his chin stuck out like a +vicious mule's. + +The table before him was cover'd with bottles and flasks, in the middle +of which stood a silver lamp burning, and over it a silver saucepan that +sent up a rare fragrance as the liquid within it simmer'd and bubbled. +So eager was the old gentleman in watching the progress of his mixture, +that he merely glanc'd up at my entrance, and then, holding up a hand +for silence, turn'd his eyes on the saucepan again. + +The second man was the broad-shouldered lackey I had seen riding behind +the coach: and now stood over the saucepan with a twisted flask in his +hand, from which he pour'd a red syrup very gingerly, drop by drop, with +the tail of his eye turn'd on his master's face, that he might know when +to cease. + +Now it may be that my entrance upset this experiment in strong drinks. +At any rate, I had scarce come to a stand about three paces inside the +door, when the little old gentleman bounces up in a fury, kicks over his +chair, hurls the nearest bottles to right and left, and sends the silver +saucepan spinning across the table to my very feet, where it scalded me +clean through the boot, and made me hop for pain. + +“Spoil'd--spoil'd!” he scream'd: “drench'd in filthy liquor, when it +should have breath'd but a taste!” + +And, to my amazement, he sprang on the strapping servant like a +wild-cat, and began to beat, cuff, and belabor him with all the strength +of his puny limbs. + +'Twas like a scene out of Bedlam. Yet all the while the girl lean'd +quietly against the mantelshelf, and softly touched the strings of her +instrument; while the servant took the rain of blows and slaps as +though 'twere a summer shower, grinning all over his face, and making no +resistance at all. + +Then, as I stood dumb with perplexity, the old gentleman let go his hold +of the fellow's hair, and, dropping on the floor, began to roll about in +a fit of coughing, the like of which no man can imagine. 'Twas hideous. +He bark'd, and writhed, and bark'd again, till the disorder seem'd to +search and rack every innermost inch of his small frame. And in the +intervals of coughing his exclamations were terrible to listen to. + +“He's dying!” I cried; and ran forward to help. + +The servant pick'd up the chair, and together we set him in it. By +degrees the violence of the cough abated, and he lay back, livid in the +face, with his eyes closed, and his hands clutching the knobs of the +chair. I turn'd to the girl. She had neither spoken nor stirr'd, but now +came forward, and calmly ask'd my business. + +“I think,” said I, “that your name is Killigrew?” + +“I am Delia Killigrew, and this is my father, Sir Deakin.” + +“Now on his way to visit his estates in Cornwall?” + +She nodded. + +“Then I have to warn you that your lives are in danger.” And, gently as +possible, I told her what I had seen and heard downstairs. In the middle +of my tale, the servant stepp'd to the door, and return'd quietly. There +was no lock on the inside. After a minute he went across, and drew the +red curtains. The window had a grating within, of iron bars as thick as +a man's thumb, strongly clamp'd in the stonework, and not four inches +apart. Clearly, he was a man of few words; for, returning, he merely +pull'd out his sword, and waited for the end of my tale. + +The girl, also, did not interrupt me, but listen'd in silence. As I +ceas'd, she said---- + +“Is this all you know?” + +“No,” answer'd I, “it is not. But the rest I promise to tell you if we +escape from this place alive. Will this content you?” + +She turn'd to the servant, who nodded. Whereupon she held out her hand +very cordially. + +“Sir, listen: we are travelers bound for Cornwall, as you know, and +have some small possessions, that will poorly reward the greed of these +violent men. Nevertheless, we should be hurrying on our journey did we +not await my brother Anthony, who was to have ridden from Oxford to join +us here, but has been delayed, doubtless on the King's business----” + +She broke off, as I started: for below I heard the main door open, and +Captain Settle's voice in the passage. The arch villain had return'd. + +“Mistress Delia,” I said hurriedly, “the twelfth man has enter'd the +house, and unless we consider our plans at once, all's up with us.” + +“Tush!” said the old gentleman in the chair, who (it seems) had heard +all, and now sat up brisk as ever. “I, for my part shall mix another +glass, and leave it all to Jacques. Come, sit by me, sir, and you shall +see some pretty play. Why, Jacques is the neatest rogue with a small +sword in all France!” + +“Sir,” I put in, “they are a round dozen in all, and your life at +present is not worth a penny's purchase.” + +“That's a lie! 'Tis worth this bowl before me, that, with or without +you, I mean to empty. What a fool thing is youth! Sir, you must be a +dying man like myself to taste life properly.” And, as I am a truthful +man, he struck up quavering merrily-- + + “Hey, nonni--nonni--no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is't not fine to laugh and sing + When the bells of death do ring? + Is't not fine to drown in wine, + And turn upon the toe, + And sing, hey--nonni--no? + Hey, nonni--nonni--” + +“--Come and sit, sir, nor spoil sport. You are too raw, I'll wager, to +be of any help; and boggling I detest.” + +“Indeed, sir,” I broke in, now thoroughly anger'd, “I can use the small +sword as well as another.” + +“Tush! Try him, Jacques.” + +Jacques, still wearing a stolid face, brought his weapon to the guard. +Stung to the quick, I wheel'd round, and made a lunge or two, that he +put aside as easily as though I were a babe. And then--I know not how it +happened, but my sword slipp'd like ice out of my grasp, and went flying +across the room. Jacques, sedately as on a matter of business, stepp'd +to pick it up, while the old gentleman chuckled. + +I was hot and asham'd, and a score of bitter words sprang to my +tongue-tip, when the Frenchman, as he rose from stooping, caught my eye, +and beckon'd me across to him. + +He was white as death, and pointed to the hilt of my sword and the +demi-bear engrav'd thereon. + +“He is dead,” I whisper'd: “hush!--turn your face aside--killed by those +same dogs that are now below.” + +I heard a sob in the true fellow's throat. But on the instant it was +drown'd by the sound of a door opening and the tramp of feet on the +stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD. + + +By the sound of their steps I guess'd one or two of these dozen rascals +to be pretty far gone in drink, and afterward found this to be the case. +I look'd round. Sir Deakin had pick'd up the lamp and was mixing his +bowl of punch, humming to himself without the least concern---- + + “Vivre en tout cas + C'est le grand soulas”-- + +with a glance at his daughter's face, that was white to the lips, but +firmly set. + +“Hand me the nutmeg yonder,” he said, and then, “why, daughter, what's +this?--a trembling hand?” + +And all the while the footsteps were coming up. + +There was a loud knock on the door. + +“Come in!” call'd Sir Deakin. + +At this, Jacques, who stood ready for battle by the entrance, wheeled +round, shot a look at his master, and dropping his point, made a sign to +me to do the same. The door was thrust rudely open, and Captain Settle, +his hat cock'd over one eye, and sham drunkenness in his gait, lurched +into the room, with the whole villainous crew behind him, huddled on the +threshold. Jacques and I stepp'd quietly back, so as to cover the girl. + +[Illustration: The door was thrust rudely open.--Page 88.] + +“Would you mind waiting a moment?” inquir'd Sir Deakin, without looking +up, but rubbing the nutmeg calmly up and down the grater: “a fraction +too much, and the whole punch will be spoil'd.” + +It took the Captain aback, and he came to a stand, eyeing us, who +look'd back at him without saying a word. And this discomposed him still +further. + +There was a minute during which the two parties could hear each other's +breathing. Sir Deakin set down the nutmeg, wiped his thin white fingers +on a napkin, and address'd the Captain sweetly-- + +“Before asking your business, sir, I would beg you and your company to +taste this liquor, which, in the court of France”--the old gentleman +took a sip from the mixing ladle--“has had the extreme honor to be +pronounced divine.” He smack'd his lips, and rising to his feet, let +his right hand rest on the silver foot of the lamp as he bowed to the +Captain. + +Captain Settle's bravado was plainly oozing away before this polite +audacity: and seeing Sir Deakin taste the punch, he pull'd off his cap +in a shamefaced manner and sat down by the table with a word of thanks. + +“Come in, sirs--come in!” call'd the old gentleman; “and follow your +friend's example. 'Twill be a compliment to make me mix another bowl +when this is finish'd.” He stepped around the table to welcome them, +still resting his hand on the lamp, as if for steadiness. I saw his eye +twinkle as they shuffled in and stood around the chair where the Captain +was seated. + +“Jacques, bring glasses from the cupboard yonder! And, Delia, fetch up +some chairs for our guests--no, sirs, pray do not move!” + +He had waved his hand lightly to the door as he turned to us: and in +an instant the intention as well as the bright success of this comedy +flash'd upon me. There was now no one between us and the stairs, and +as for Sir Deakin himself, he had already taken the step of putting the +table's width between him and his guests. + +I touch'd the girl's arm, and we made as if to fetch a couple of chairs +that stood against the wainscot by the door. As we did so, Sir Deakin +push'd the punch bowl forward under the Captain's nose. + +“Smell, sir,” he cried airily, “and report to your friends on the +foretaste.” + +Settle's nose hung over the steaming compound. With a swift pass of +the hand, the old gentleman caught up the lamp and had shaken a drop of +burning oil into the bowl. A great blaze leap'd to the ceiling. There +was a howl--a scream of pain; and as I push'd Mistress Delia through the +doorway and out to the head of the stairs, I caught a backward glimpse +of Sir Deakin rushing after us, with one of the stoutest among the +robbers at his heels. + +“Downstairs, for your life!” I whisper'd to the girl, and turning, as +her father tumbled past me, let his pursuer run on my sword, as on +a spit. At the same instant, another blade pass'd through the fellow +transversely, and Jacques stood beside me, with his back to the lintel. + +As we pull'd our swords out and the man dropp'd, I had a brief view into +the room, where now the blazing liquid ran off the table in a stream. +Settle, stamping with agony, had his palms press'd against his scorch'd +eyelids. The fat landlord, in trying to beat out the flames, had +increased them by upsetting two bottles of aqua vitae, and was dancing +about with three fingers in his mouth. The rest stood for the most part +dumbfounder'd: but Black Dick had his pistol lifted. + +Jacques and I sprang out for the landing and round the doorway. Between +the flash and the report I felt a sudden scrape, as of a red-hot wire, +across my left thigh and just above the knee. + +“Tenez, camarade,” said Jacques' voice in my ear; “a moi la porte--a +vous le maitre, la-bas:” and he pointed down the staircase, where, by +the glare of the conflagration that beat past us, I saw the figures of +Sir Deakin and his daughter standing. + +“But how can you keep the door against a dozen?” + +The Frenchman shrugg'd his shoulders with a smile--- + +“Mais-comme ca!” + +For at this moment came a rush of footsteps within the room. I saw a fat +paunch thrusting past us, a quiet pass of steel, and the landlord was +wallowing on his face across the threshold. Jacques' teeth snapp'd +together as he stood ready for another victim: and as the fellows within +the room tumbled back, he motion'd me to leave him. + +I sprang from his side, and catching the rail of the staircase, reach'd +the foot in a couple of bounds. + +“Hurry!” I cried, and caught the old baronet by the hand. His daughter +took the other, and between us we hurried him across the passage for the +kitchen door. + +Within, the chambermaid was on her knees by the settle, her face and +apron of the same hue. I saw she was incapable of helping, and hasten'd +across the stone floor, and out toward the back entrance. + +A stream of icy wind blew in our faces as we stepp'd over the threshold. +The girl and I bent our heads to it, and stumbling, tripping, and +panting, pull'd Sir Deakin with us out into the cold air. + +The yard was no longer dark. In the room above someone had push'd the +casement open, letting in the wind: and by this 'twas very evident the +room was on fire. Indeed, the curtains had caught, and as we ran, a +pennon of flame shot out over our heads, licking the thatch. In the +glare of it the outbuildings and the yard gate stood clearly out from +the night. I heard the trampling of feet, the sound of Settle's voice +shouting an order, and then a dismal yell and clash of steel as we flung +open the gate. + +“Jacques!” scream'd the old gentleman: “my poor Jacques! Those dogs will +mangle him with their cut and thrust--” + +'Twas very singular and sad, but as if in answer to Sir Deakin's cry, we +heard the brave fellow's voice; and a famous shout it must have been to +reach us over the roaring of the flames-- + +“Mon maitre-mon maitre!” he call'd twice, and then “Sauve toi!” in a +fainter voice, yet clear. And after that only a racket of shouts and +outcries reach'd us. Without doubt the villains had overpower'd and +slain this brave servant. In spite of our peril (for they would be after +us at once), 'twas all we could do to drag the old man from the gate and +up the road: and as he went he wept like a child. + +After about fifty yards, we turn'd in at a gate, and began to cut across +a field: for I hop'd thus not only to baffle pursuit for a while, but +also to gain the wood that we saw dimly ahead. It reach'd to the top of +the hill, and I knew not how far beyond: and as I was reflecting that +there lay our chance of safety, I heard the inn door below burst open +with loud cries, and the sound of footsteps running up the road after +us. + +Moreover, to complete our fix, the clouds that had been scurrying across +the moon's face, now for a minute left a clear interval of sky about +her: so that right in our course there lay a great patch brilliantly +lit, whereon our figures could be spied at once by anyone glancing into +the field. Also, it grew evident that Sir Deakin's late agility was but +a short and sudden triumph of will over body: for his poor crooked legs +began to trail and lag sadly. So turning sharp about, we struck for the +hedge's shadow, and there pull'd him down in a dry ditch, and lay with +a hand on his mouth to stifle his ejaculations, while we ourselves held +our breathing. + +The runners came up the road, pausing for a moment by the gate. I heard +it creak, and saw two or three dark forms enter the field--the remainder +tearing on up the road with a great clatter of boots. + +“Alas, my poor Jacques!” moan'd Sir Deakin: “and to be butcher'd so, +that never in his days kill'd a man but as if he lov'd him!” + +“Sir,” I whisper'd harshly, “if you keep this noise I must gag you.” And +with that he was silent for awhile. + +There was a thick tangle of brambles in the ditch where we lay: and to +this we owe our lives. For one of the men, coming our way, pass'd within +two yards of us, with the flat of his sword beating the growth over our +heads. + +“Reu-ben! Reuben Gedges!” call'd a voice by the gate. + +The fellow turn'd; and peeping between the bramble twigs, I saw the +moonlight glittering on his blade. A narrow, light-hair'd man he was, +with a weak chin: and since then I have paid him out for the fright he +gave us. + +“What's the coil?” he shouted back. + +“The stable roofs ablaze--for the Lord's sake come and save the hosses!” + +He strode back, and in a minute the field was clear. Creeping out with +caution, I grew aware of two mournful facts: first, that the stable was +indeed afire, as I perceiv'd by standing on tiptoe and looking over the +hedge; and second, that my knee was hurt by Black Dick's bullet. The +muscles had stiffened while we were crouching, and now pain'd me badly. +Yet I kept it to myself as we started off again to run. + +But at the stile that, at the top of the field, led into the woods, I +pull'd up-- + +“Sorry I am to say it, but you must go on without me.” + +“O--oh!” cried the girl. + +“'Tis for your safety. See, I leave a trail of blood behind me, so that +when day rises they will track us easily.” + +And sure enough, even by the moon, 'twas easy to trace the dark spots +on the grass and earth beside the stile. My left boot, too, was full of +blood. + +She was silent for awhile. Down in the valley we could hear the screams +of the poor horses. The light of the flames lit up the pine trunks about +us to a bright scarlet. + +“Sir, you hold our gratitude cheaply.” + +She unwound the kerchief from her neck, and making me sit on the stile, +bound up my knee skillfully, twisting a short stick in the bandage to +stop the bleeding. + +I thank'd her, and we hurried on into the depths of the wood, treading +silently on the deep carpet of pine needles. The ground rose steeply +all the way: and all the way, tho' the light grew feebler, the roar and +outcries in the valley follow'd us. + +Toward the hill's summit the trees were sparser. Looking upward, I saw +that the sky had grown thickly overcast. We cross'd the ridge, and after +a minute or so were in thick cover again. + +'Twas here that Sir Deakin's strength gave out. Almost without warning, +he sank down between our hands, and in a second was taken with that +hateful cough, that once already this night had frightened me for his +life. + +“Ah, ah!” he groaned, between the spasms, “I'm not fit--I'm not fit for +it!” and was taken again, and roll'd about barking, so that I fear'd the +sound would bring all Settle's gang on our heels. “I'm not fit for it!” + he repeated, as the cough left him, and he lay back helpless, among the +pine needles. + +Now, I understood his words to bear on his unfitness for death, and +judg'd them very decent and properly spoken: and took occasion to hint +this in my attempts to console him. + +“Why, bless the boy!” he cried, sitting up and staring, “for what d'ye +think I'm unsuited?” + +“Why, to die, sir--to be sure!” + +“Holy Mother!” he regarded me with surprise, contempt and pity, all +together: “was ever such a dunderhead! If ever man were fit to die, I am +he--and that's just my reasonable complaint. Heart alive! 'tis unfit to +_live_ I am, tied to this absurd body!” + +I suppose my attitude express'd my lack of comprehension, for he lifted +a finger and went on-- + +“Tell me--can you eat beef, and drink beer, and enjoy them?” + +“Why, yes.” + +“And fight--hey? and kiss a pretty girl, and be glad you've done it? +Dear, dear, how I do hate a fool and a fool's pity! Lift me up and carry +me a step. This night's work has kill'd me: I feel it in my lungs. 'Tis +a pity, too; for I was just beginning to enjoy it.” + +I lifted him as I would a babe, and off we set again, my teeth shutting +tight on the pain of my hurt. And presently, coming to a little dingle, +about half a mile down the hillside, well hid with dead bracken and +blackberry bushes, I consulted with the girl. The place was well +shelter'd from the wind that rock'd the treetops, and I fear'd to go +much further, for we might come on open country at any moment and so +double our peril. It seem'd best, therefore, to lay the old gentleman +snugly in the bottom of this dingle and wait for day. And with my +buff-coat, and a heap of dried leaves, I made him fairly easy, reserving +my cloak to wrap about Mistress Delia's fair neck and shoulders. But +against this at first she protested. + +“For how are you to manage?” she ask'd. + +“I shall tramp up and down, and keep watch,” answer'd I, strewing a +couch for her beside her father: “and 'tis but fair exchange for the +kerchief you gave me from your own throat.” + +At last I persuaded her, and she crept close to her father, and under +the edge of the buff-coat for warmth. There was abundance of dry bracken +in the dingle, and with this and some handfuls of pine needles, I +cover'd them over, and left them to find what sleep they might. + +For two hours and more after this, I hobbled to and fro near them, as +well as my wound would allow, looking up at the sky through the pine +tops, and listening to the sobbing of the wind. Now and then I would +swing my arms for warmth, and breathe on my fingers, that were sorely +benumb'd; and all the while kept my ears on the alert, but heard +nothing. + +'Twas, as I said, something over two hours after, that I felt a soft +cold touch, and then another, like kisses on my forehead. I put up my +hand, and looked up again at the sky. As I did so, the girl gave a long +sigh, and awoke from her doze--- + +“Sure, I must have dropp'd asleep,” she said, opening her eyes, and +spying my shadow above her: “has aught happened?” + +“Aye,” replied I, “something is happening that will wipe out our traces +and my bloody track.” + +“And what is that?” + +“Snow: see, 'tis falling fast.” + +She bent over, and listen'd to her father's breathing. + +“'Twill kill him,” she said simply. + +I pull'd some more fronds of the bracken to cover them both. She thank'd +me, and offer'd to relieve me in my watch: which I refus'd. And indeed, +by lying down I should have caught my death, very likely. + +The big flakes drifted down between the pines: till, as the moon paled, +the ground about me was carpeted all in white, with the foliage black +as ink above it. Time after time, as I tramp'd to and fro, I paus'd to +brush the fresh-forming heap from the sleepers' coverlet, and shake +it gently from the tresses of the girl's hair. The old man's face was +covered completely by the buff-coat: but his breathing was calm and +regular as any child's. + +Day dawn'd. Awaking Mistress Delia, I ask'd her to keep watch for a +time, while I went off to explore. She crept out from her bed with a +little shiver of disgust. + +“Run about,” I advis'd, “and keep the blood stirring.” + +She nodded: and looking back, as I strode down the hill, I saw her +moving about quickly, swinging her arms, and only pausing to wave a hand +to me for goodspeed. + +* * * * * + +'Twas an hour before I return'd: and plenty I had to tell. Only at the +entrance to the dingle the words failed from off my tongue. The old +gentleman lay as he had lain throughout the night. But the bracken had +been toss'd aside, and the girl was kneeling over him. I drew near, my +step not arousing her. Sir Deakin's face was pale and calm: but on the +snow that had gather'd by his head, lay a red streak of blood. 'Twas +from his lungs, and he was quite dead. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +I FIND A COMRADE. + +But I must go back a little and tell you what befell in my expedition. + +I had scarce trudged out of sight of my friends, down the hill, when +it struck me that my footprints in the snow were in the last degree +dangerous to them, and might lead Settle and his crew straight to the +dingle. Here was a fix. I stood for some minutes nonpluss'd, when above +the stillness of the wood (for the wind had dropp'd) a faint sound as of +running water caught my ear, and help'd me to an idea. + +The sound seem'd to come from my left. Turning aside I made across the +hill toward it, and after two hundred paces or so came on a tiny +brook, not two feet across, that gush'd down the slope with a quite +considerable chatter and impatience. The bed of it was mainly earth, +with here and there a large stone or root to catch the toe: so that, +as I stepped into the water and began to thread my way down between the +banks of snow, 'twas necessary to look carefully to my steps. + +Here and there the brook fetch'd a leap down a sharper declivity, or +shot over a hanging stone: but, save for the wetting I took in these +places, my progress was easy enough. I must have waded in this manner +for half a mile, keeping the least possible noise, when at an angle +ahead I spied a clearing among the pines, and to the right of the +stream, on the very verge, a hut of logs standing, with a wood rick +behind it. + +'Twas a low building, but somewhat long, and I guess'd it to be, in +summer time, a habitation for the woodcutters. But what surpris'd me +was to hear a dull, moaning noise, very regular and disquieting, +that sounded from the interior of the hut. I listen'd, and hit on the +explication. 'Twas the sound of snoring. + +Drawing nearer with caution, I noticed, in that end of the hut which +stood over the stream, a gap, or window hole. The sound issued through +this like the whirring of a dozen looms. “He must be an astonishing +fellow,” thought I, “that can snore in this fashion. I'll have a peep +before I wake him.” I waded down till I stood under the sill, put both +hands upon it, and pulling myself up quiet as a mouse, stuck my face in +at the window--and then very nearly sat back into the brook for fright. + +For I had gazed straight down into the upturn'd faces of Captain Settle +and his gang. + +How long I stood there, with the water rushing past my ankles and my +body turning from cold to hot, and back again, I cannot tell you. But +'twas until, hearing no pause in the sleepers' chorus, I found courage +for another peep: and that must have been some time. + +There were but six rascals beside the Captain (so that Jacques must have +died hard, thought I), and such a raffle of arms and legs and swollen +up-turn'd faces as they made I defy you to picture. For they were pack'd +close as herrings; and the hut was fill'd up with their horses, ready +saddled, and rubbing shoulder to loin, so narrow was the room. It needed +the open window to give them air: and even so, 'twas not over-fresh +inside. + +I had no mind to stay: but before leaving found myself in the way of +playing these villains a pretty trick. To right and left of the window, +above their heads, extended two rude shelves that now were heap'd with +what I conjectured to be the spoils of the larder of the “Three Cups.” + Holding my breath and thrusting my head and shoulders into the room, I +ran my hand along and was quickly possess'd of a boil'd ham, two capons, +a loaf, the half of a cold pie, and a basket holding three dozen eggs. +All these prizes I filched one by one, with infinite caution. + +I was gently pulling the basket through the window hole, when I heard +one of the crew yawn and stretch himself in his sleep. So, determining +to risk no more, I quietly pack'd the basket, slung it on my right arm, +and with the ham grasp'd by the knuckle in my left, made my way up the +stream. + +'Twas thus laden that I enter'd the dingle, and came on the sad sight +therein. I set down the ham as a thing to be asham'd of, and bar'd my +head. The girl lifted her face, and turning, all white and tragical, saw +me. + +“My father is dead, sir.” + +I stoop'd and pil'd a heap of fresh snow over the blood stains. There +was no intent in this but to hide the pity that chok'd me. She had still +to hear about her brother, Anthony. Turning, as by a sudden thought, I +took her hand. She look'd into my eyes, and her own filled with tears. +'Twas the human touch that loosen'd their flow, I think: and sinking +down again beside her father, she wept her fill. + +“Mistress Killigrew,” I said, as soon as the first violence of her tears +was abated, “I have still some news that is ill hearing. Your enemies +are encamp'd in the woods, about a half mile below this”--and with that +I told my story. + +“They have done their worst, sir.” + +“No.” + +She looked at me with a question on her lip. + +Said I, “you must believe me yet a short while without questioning.” + +Considering for a moment, she nodded. “You have a right, sir, to be +trusted, tho' I know not so much as your name. Then we must stay close +in hiding?” she added very sensibly, tho' with the last word her voice +trail'd off, and she began again to weep. + +But in time, having cover'd the dead baronet's body with sprays of the +wither'd bracken, I drew her to a little distance and prevail'd on +her to nibble a crust of the loaf. Now, all this while, it must be +remembered, I was in my shirt sleeves, and the weather bitter cold. +Which at length her sorrow allow'd her to notice. + +“Why, you are shivering, sore!” she said, and running, drew my buff-coat +from her father's body, and held it out to me. + +“Indeed,” I answer'd, “I was thinking of another expedition to warm my +blood.” And promising to be back in half an hour, I follow'd down my +former tracks toward the stream. + +Within twenty minutes I was back, running and well-nigh shouting with +joy. + +“Come!” I cried to her, “come and see for yourself!” + +What had happen'd was this:--Wading cautiously down the brook, I had +cause suddenly to prick up my ears and come to a halt. 'Twas the muffled +tramp of hoofs that I heard, and creeping a bit further, I caught a +glimpse, beyond the hut, of a horse and rider disappearing down the +woods. He was the last of the party, as I guess'd from the sound of +voices and jingling of bits further down the slope. Advancing on the hut +with more boldness, I found it deserted. I scrambled up on the bank and +round to the entrance. The snow before it was trampled and sullied by +the footmarks of men and horses: and as I noted this, came Settle's +voice calling up the slope---- + +“Jerry--Jerry Toy!” + +A nearer voice hail'd in answer. + +“Where's Reuben?” + +“Coming, Captain--close behind!” + +“Curse him for a loitering idiot! We've wasted time enough, as 'tis,” + called back the Captain. “How in thunder is a man to find the road out +of this cursed wood?” + +“Straight on, Cap'n--you can't miss it,” shouted another voice, not two +gunshots below. + +A volcano of oaths pour'd up from Settle. I did not wait for the end of +them: but ran back for Mistress Delia. + +Together we descended to the hut. By this time the voices had faded away +in distance. Yet to make sure that the rascals had really departed, we +follow'd their tracks for some way, beside the stream; and suddenly came +to a halt with cries of joyful surprise. + +The brook had led us to a point where, over a stony fall veil'd with +brown bracken, it plunged into a narrow ravine. Standing on the lip, +where the water took a smoother glide before leaping, we saw the line +of the ravine mark'd by a rift in the pines, and through this a slice +of the country that lay below. 'Twas a level plain, well watered, and +dotted here and there with houses. A range of wooded hills clos'd the +view, and toward them a broad road wound gently, till the eye lost it at +their base. All this was plain enough, in spite of the snow that cover'd +the landscape. For the sun had burst out above, and the few flakes that +still fell looked black against his brilliance and the dazzling country +below. + +But what caus'd our joy was to see, along the road, a small cavalcade +moving away from us, with many bright glances of light and color, as +their steel caps and sashes took the sunshine--a pretty sight, and the +prettier because it meant our present deliverance. + +The girl beside me gave a cry of delight, then sigh'd; and after a +minute began to walk back toward the hut: where I left her, and ran up +hill for the basket and ham. On my return, I found her examining a +heap of rusty tools that, it seem'd, she had found on a shelf of the +building. 'Twas no light help to the good fellowship that afterward +united us, that from the first I could read her thoughts often without +words; and for this reason, that her eyes were as candid as the noonday. + +So now I answer'd her aloud--- + +“This afternoon we may venture down to the plain, where no doubt we +shall find a clergyman to sell us a patch of holy ground--” + +“Holy ground?” She look'd at me awhile and shook her head. “I am not of +your religion,” she said. + +“And your father?” + +“I think no man ever discovered my father's religion. Perhaps there was +none to discover: but he was no bad father” she steadied her voice and +went on:--“He would prefer the hillside to your 'holy ground.'” + +So, an hour later, I delv'd his grave in the frosty earth, close by the +spot where he lay. Somehow, I shiver'd all the while, and had a cruel +shooting pain in my wound that was like to have mastered me before the +task was ended. But I managed to lower the body softly into the hole +and to cover it reverently from sight: and afterward stood leaning on +my spade and feeling very light in the head, while the girl knelt and +pray'd for her father's soul. + +And the picture of her as she knelt is the last I remember, till I +open'd my eyes, and was amazed to find myself on my back, and staring up +at darkness. + +“What has happen'd?” + +“I think you are very ill,” said a voice: “can you lean on me, and reach +the hut?” + +“Why, yes: that is, I think so. Why is everything dark?” + +“The sun has been down for hours. You have been in a swoon first, and +then talk'd--oh, such nonsense! Shame on me, to let you catch this +chill!” + +She help'd me to my feet and steadied me: and how we reached the hut I +cannot tell you. It took more than one weary hour, as I now know; but, +at the time, hours and minutes were one to me. + +In that hut I lay four nights and four days, between ague fit and fever. +And that is all the account I can give of the time, save that, on the +second day, the girl left me alone in the hut and descended to the +plain, where, after asking at many cottages for a physician, she was +forced to be content with an old woman reputed to be amazingly well +skill'd in herbs and medicines; whom, after a day's trial, she turn'd +out of doors. On the fourth day, fearing for my life, she made another +descent, and coming to a wayside tavern, purchased a pint of aqua vitae, +carried it back, and mix'd a potion that threw me into a profuse sweat. +The same evening I sat up, a sound man. + +Indeed, so thoroughly was I recover'd that, waking early next morning, +and finding my sweet nurse asleep from sheer weariness, in a corner of +the hut, I stagger'd up from my bed of dried bracken, and out into the +pure air. Rare it was to stand and drink it in like wine. A footstep +arous'd me. 'Twas Mistress Delia: and turning, I held out my hand. + +“Now this is famous,” said she: “a day or two will see you as good a man +as ever.” + +“A day or two? To-morrow at latest, I shall make trial to start.” I +noted a sudden change on her face, and added: “Indeed, you must hear +my reasons before setting me down for an ingrate;” and told her of the +King's letter that I carried. “I hoped that for a while our ways might +lie together,” said I; and broke off, for she was looking me earnestly +in the face. + +“Sir, as you know, my brother Anthony was to have met me--nay, for +pity's sake, turn not your face away! I have guess'd--the sword you +carry--I mark'd it. Sir, be merciful, and tell me!” + +I led her a little aside to the foot of a tall pine; and there, tho' +it rung my heart, told her all; and left her to wrestle with this final +sorrow. She was so tender a thing to be stricken thus, that I who had +dealt the blow crept back to the hut, covering my eyes. In an hour's +time I look'd out. She was gone. + +At nightfall she return'd, white with grief and fatigue; yet I was glad +to see her eyes red and swol'n with weeping. Throughout our supper +she kept silence; but when 'twas over, look'd up and spoke in a steady +tone---- + +“Sir, I have a favor to ask, and must risk being held importunate--” + +“From you to me,” I put in, “all talk of favors had best be dropp'd.” + +“No--listen. If ever it befel you to lose father or mother or dearly +loved friend, you will know how the anguish stuns--Oh sir! to-day the +sun seem'd fallen out of heaven, and I a blind creature left groping +in the void. Indeed, sir, 'tis no wonder: I had a father, brother, +and servant ready to die for me--three hearts to love and lean on: and +to-day they are gone.” + +I would have spoken, but she held up a hand. + +“Now when you spoke of Anthony--a dear lad!--I lay for some time dazed +with grief. By little and little, as the truth grew plainer, the pain +grew also past bearing. I stood up and stagger'd into the woods to +escape it. I went fast and straight, heeding nothing, for at first my +senses were all confus'd: but in a while the walking clear'd my wits, +and I could think: and thinking, I could weep: and having wept, could +fortify my heart. Here is the upshot, sir--tho' 'tis held immodest for a +maid to ask even far less of a man. We are both bound for Cornwall--you +on an honorable mission, I for my father's estate of Gleys, wherefrom +(as your tale proves) some unseen hands are thrusting me. Alike we carry +our lives in our hands. You must go forward: I may not go back. For from +a King who cannot right his own affairs there is little hope; and in +Cornwall I have surer friends than he. Therefore take me, sir--take +me for a comrade! Am I sad? Do you fear a weary journey? I will +smile--laugh--sing--put sorrow behind me. I will contrive a thousand +ways to cheat the milestones. At the first hint of tears, discard me, +and go your way with no prick of conscience. Only try me--oh, the shame +of speaking thus!” + +Her voice had grown more rapid toward the close: and now, breaking off, +she put both hands to cover her face, that was hot with blushes. I went +over and took them in mine: + +“You have made me the blithest man alive,” said I. + +She drew back a pace with a frighten'd look, and would have pull'd her +hands away. + +“Because,” I went on quickly, “you have paid me this high compliment, to +trust me. Proud was I to listen to you; and merrily will the miles pass +with you for comrade. And so I say--Mistress Killigrew, take me for your +servant.” + +To my extreme discomposure, as I dropp'd her hands, her eyes were +twinkling with laughter. + +“Dear now; I see a dull prospect ahead if we use these long titles!” + +“But---” + +“Indeed, sir, please yourself. Only as I intend to call you 'Jack' +perhaps 'Delia' will be more of a piece than 'Mistress Killigrew.'” She +dropp'd me a mock curtsey. “And now, Jack, be a good boy, and hitch +me this quilt across the hut. I bought it yesterday at a cottage below +here----” + +She ended the sentence with the prettiest blush imaginable; and so, +having fix'd her screen, we shook hands on our comradeship, and wish'd +each other good night. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +I LOSE THE KING'S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL. + + +Almost before daylight we were afoot, and the first ray of cold sunshine +found us stepping from the woods into the plain, where now the snow was +vanished and a glistening coat of rime spread over all things. Down here +the pines gave way to bare elms and poplars, thickly dotted, and among +them the twisting smoke of farmstead and cottage, here and there, and +the morning stir of kitchen and stable very musical in the crisp air. + +Delia stepped along beside me, humming an air or breaking off to +chatter. Meeting us, you would have said we had never a care. The road +went stretching away to the northwest and the hills against the sky +there; whither beyond, we neither knew nor (being both young, and one, +by this time, pretty deep in love) did greatly care. Yet meeting with a +waggoner and his team, we drew up to enquire. + +The waggoner had a shock of whitish hair and a face purple-red above, +by reason of the cold, and purple-black below, for lack of a barber. He +purs'd up his mouth and look'd us slowly up and down. + +“Come,” said I, “you are not deaf, I hope, nor dumb.” + +“Send I may niver!” the fellow ejaculated, slowly and with +contemplation: “'tis an unseemly sight, yet tickling to the mirthfully +minded. Haw--haw!” He check'd his laughter suddenly and stood like a +stone image beside his horses. + +“Good sir,” said Delia, laying a hand on my arm (for I was growing +nettled), “your mirth is a riddle: but tell us our way and you are free +to laugh.” + +“Oh, Scarlet--Scarlet!” answer'd he: “and to me, that am a man o' +blushes from my cradle!” + +Convinced by this that the fellow must be an idiot, I told him so, and +left him staring after us; nor heard the sound of his horses moving on +again for many minutes. + +After this we met about a dozen on the road, and all paus'd to stare. +But from one--an old woman--we learn'd we were walking toward Marlboro', +and about noon were over the hills and looking into the valley beyond. + +'Twas very like the other vale; only a pleasant stream wound along the +bottom, by the banks of which the road took us. Here, by a bridge, we +came to an inn bearing the sign of “The Broad Face,” and entered: for +Captain Settle's stock of victuals was now done. A sour-fac'd woman met +us at the door. + +“Do you stay here,” Delia advis'd me, “and drink a mug of beer while I +bargain with the hostess for fresh food.” She follow'd the sour-fac'd +woman into the house. + +But out she comes presently with her cheeks flaming and a pair of +bright eyes. “Come!” she commanded, “come at once!” Setting down my +half emptied mug, I went after her across the bridge and up the road, +wondering. In this way we must have walk'd for a mile or more before she +turn'd and stamp'd her little foot-- + +“Horrible!” she cried. “Horrible--wicked--shameful! Ugh!” There were +tears in her eyes. + +“What is shameful?” + +She made no reply, but walk'd on again quickly. + +“I am getting hungry, for my part,” sigh'd I, after a little. + +“Then you must starve!” + +“Oh!” + +She wheel'd round again. + +“Jack, this will never do. If you are to have a comrade, let it be a +boy.” + +“Now, I am very passably content as things are.” + +“Nonsense: at Marlboro', I mean, you must buy me a suit of boy's +clothes. What are you hearkening to?” + +“I thought I heard the noise of guns--or is it thunder?” + +“Dear Jack, don't say 'tis thunder! I do mortally fear thunder--and +mice.” + +“'Twouldn't be thunder at this time of year. No, 'tis guns firing.” + +“Where?--not that I mind guns.” + +“Ahead of us.” + +On the far side of the valley we enter'd a wood, thinking by this to +shorten our way: for the road here took a long bend to eastward. Now, at +first this wood seem'd of no considerable size, but thicken'd and spread +as we advanced. 'Twas only, however, after passing the ridge, and when +daylight began to fail us, that I became alarm'd. For the wood grew +denser, with a tangle of paths criss-crossing amid the undergrowth. And +just then came the low mutter of cannon again, shaking the earth. We +began to run forward, tripping in the gloom over brambles, and stumbling +into holes. + +For a mile or so this lasted: and then, without warning, I heard a sound +behind me, and look'd back, to find Delia sunk upon the ground. + +“Jack, here's a to-do!” + +“What's amiss?” + +“Why, I am going to swoon!” + +The words were scarce out, when there sounded a crackling and snapping +of twigs ahead, and two figures came rushing toward us--a man and a +woman. The man carried an infant in his arms: and tho' I call'd on them +to stop, the pair ran by us with no more notice than if we had been +stones. Only the woman cried, “Dear Lord, save us!” and wrung her hands +as she pass'd out of sight. + +“This is strange conduct,” thought I: but peering down, saw that Delia's +face was white and motionless. She had swoon'd, indeed, from weariness +and hunger. So I took her in my arms and stumbled forward, hoping to +find the end of the wood soon. For now the rattle of artillery came +louder and incessant through the trees, and mingling with it, a +multitude of dull shouts and outcries. At first I was minded to run +after the man and woman, but on second thought, resolv'd to see the +danger before hiding from it. + +The trees, in a short while, grew sparser, and between the stems I +mark'd a ruddy light glowing. And then I came out on an open space upon +the hillside, with a dip of earth in front; and beyond, a long ridge +of pines standing up black, because of a red glare behind them; and +saw that this came not from any setting sun, but was the light of a +conflagration. + +The glare danced and quiver'd in the sky, as I cross'd the hollow. It +made even Delia's white cheek seem rosy. Up amid the pines I clamor'd, +and along the ridge to where it broke off in a steep declivity. And lo! +in a minute I look'd down as 'twere into the infernal pit. + +There was a whole town burning below. And in the streets men were +fighting, as could be told by their shouts and the rattle and blaze of +musketry. For a garment of smoke lay over all and hid them: only the +turmoil beat up as from a furnace, and the flames of burning thatches, +and quick jets of firearms like lightning in a thundercloud. Great +sparks floated past us, and over the trees at our back. A hot blast +breath'd on our cheeks. Now and then you might hear a human shriek +distinct amid the din, and this spoke terribly to the heart. + +Now the town was Marlboro', and the attacking force a body of royal +troops sent from Oxford to oust the garrison of the Parliament, which +they did this same night, with great slaughter, driving the rebels out +of the place, and back on the road to Bristol. Had we guess'd this, +much ill luck had been spared us; but we knew nought of it, nor whether +friends or foes were getting the better. So (Delia being by this time +recover'd a little) we determined to pass the night in the woods, and on +the morrow to give the place a wide berth. + +Retreating, then, to the hollow (that lay on the lee side of the ridge, +away from the north wind), I gather'd a pile of great stones, and spread +my cloak thereover for Delia. To sleep was impossible, even with the +will for it. For the tumult and fighting went on, and only died out +about an hour before dawn: and once or twice we were troubled to hear +the sound of people running on the ridge above. So we sat and talked in +low voices till dawn; and grew more desperately hunger'd than ever. + +With the chill of daybreak we started, meaning to get quit of the +neighborhood before any espied us; and fetch'd a compass to the south +without another look at Marlboro'. At the end of two hours, turning +northwest again, we came to some water meadows beside a tiny river (the +Kennet, as I think), and saw, some way beyond, a high road that cross'd +to our side (only the bridge was now broken down), and further yet, a +thick smoke curling up; but whence this came I could not see. Now we +had been avoiding all roads this morning, and hiding at every sound of +footsteps. But hunger was making us bold. I bade Delia crouch down +by the stream's bank, where many alders grew, and set off toward this +column of smoke. + +By the spot where the road cross'd I noted that many men and horses had +lately pass'd hereby to westward, and, by their footmarks, at a great +speed. A little further, and I came on a broken musket flung against the +hedge, with a nauseous mess of blood and sandy hairs about the stock +of it; and just beyond was a dead horse, his legs sticking up like bent +poles across the road. 'Twas here that my blood went cold on a sudden, +to hear a dismal groaning not far ahead. I stood still, holding my +breath, and then ran forward again. + +The road took a twist that led me face to face with a small whitewashed +cottage, smear'd with black stains of burning. For seemingly it had been +fir'd in one or two places, only the flames had died out: and from the +back, where some out-building yet smoulder'd, rose the smoke that I +spied. But what brought me to a stand was to see the doorway all +crack'd and charr'd, and across it a soldier stretch'd--a green-coated +rebel--and quite dead. His face lay among the burn'd ruins of the door, +that had wofully singed his beard and hair. A stain of blood ran across +the door stone and into the road. + +I was gazing upon him and shuddering, when again I heard the groans. +They issued from the upper chamber of the cottage. I stepped over the +dead soldier and mounted the ladder that led upstairs. + +The upper room was but a loft. In it were two beds, whereof one was +empty. On the edge of the other sat up a boy of sixteen or thereabouts, +stark naked and moaning miserably. With one hand he seem'd trying to +cover a big wound that gaped in his chest: the other, as my head rose +over the ladder, he stretch'd out with all the fingers spread. And this +was his last effort. As I stumbled up, his fingers clos'd in a spasm of +pain; his hands dropp'd, and the body tumbled back on the bed, where it +lay with the legs dangling. + +The poor lad must have been stabb'd as he lay asleep. For by the bedside +I found his clothes neatly folded and without a speck of blood. They +were clean, though coarse; so thinking they would serve for Delia, I +took them, albeit with some scruples at robbing the dead, and covering +the body with a sheet, made my way downstairs. + +[Illustration: “Oh, Jack--they do not fit at all!”--Page 121.] + +Here, on a high shelf at the foot of the ladder, I discover'd a couple +of loaves and some milk, and also, lying hard by, a pair of shepherd's +shears, which I took also, having a purpose for them. By this time, +being sick enough of the place, I was glad to make all speed back to +Delia. + +She was still waiting among the leafless alders, and clapp'd her hands +to see the two loaves under my arm. + +Said I, flinging down the clothes, and munching at my share of the +bread--- + +“Here is the boy's suit that you wish'd for.” + +“Oh, dear! 'tis not a very choice one.” Her face fell. + +“All the better for escaping notice.” + +“But--but I _like_ to be notic'd!” + +Nevertheless, when breakfast was done, she consented to try on the +clothes. I left her eyeing them doubtfully, and stroll'd away by the +river's bank. In a while her voice call'd to me--- + +“Oh, Jack--they do not fit at all!” + +“Why, 'tis admirable!” said I, returning, and scanning her. Now this was +a lie: but she took me more than ever, so pretty and comical she look'd +in the dress. + +“And I cannot walk a bit in them!” she pouted, strutting up and down. + +“Swing your arms more, and let them hang looser.” + +“And my hair. Oh, Jack, I have such beautiful hair!” + +“It must come off,” said I, pulling the shears out of my pocket. + +“And look at these huge boots!” + +Indeed, this was the main trouble, for I knew they would hurt her in +walking: yet she made more fuss about her hair, and only gave in when +I scolded her roundly. So I took the shears and clipp'd the chestnut +curls, one by one, while she cried for vexation; and took occasion of +her tears to smuggle the longest lock inside my doublet. + + * * * * * + +But, an hour after, she was laughing again, and had learned to cock the +poor country lad's cap rakishly over one eye: and by evening was walking +with a swagger and longing (I know) to meet with folks. For, to spare +her the sight of the ruin'd cottage, I had taken her round through the +fields, and by every bypath that seem'd to lead westward. 'Twas safer to +journey thus; and all the way she practic'd a man's carriage and airs, +and how to wink and whistle and swing a stick. And once, when she left +one of her shoes in a wet ditch, she said “d--n!” as natural as life: +and then-- + +We jump'd over a hedge, plump into an outpost of rebels, as they sat +munching their supper. + +They were six in all, and must have been sitting like mice: for all I +know of it is this. I had climb'd the hedge first, and was helping +Delia over, when out of the ground, as it seem'd, a voice shriek'd, +“Run--run!--the King's men are on us!” and then, my foot slipping, down +I went on to the shoulders of a thick-set man, and well-nigh broke his +neck as he turn'd to look up at me. + +At first, the whole six were for running, I believe. But seeing only +a lad stretch'd on his face, and a second on the hedge, they thought +better of it. Before I could scramble up, one pair of hands was screw'd +about my neck, another at my heels, and in a trice there we were +pinion'd. + +“Fetch the lantern, Zacchaeus.” + +'Twas quickly lit, and thrust into my face; and very foolish I must have +look'd. The fellows were all clad in green coats, much soil'd with mud +and powder. And they grinn'd in my face till I long'd to kick them. + +“Search the malignant!” cried one. “Question him,” call'd out another; +and forthwith began a long interrogatory concerning the movements of his +Majesty's troops, from which, indeed, I learn'd much concerning the late +encounter: but of course could answer nought. 'Twas only natural they +should interpret this silence for obstinacy. + +“March 'em off to Captain Stubbs!” + +“Halloa!” shouted a pockmarked trooper, that had his hand thrust in on +my breast: “bring the lantern close here. What's this?” + +'Twas, alas! the King's letter: and I bit my lip while they cluster'd +round, turning the lantern's yellow glare upon the superscription. + +“Lads, there's promotion in this!” shouted the thick-set man I had +tumbled on (who, it seem'd, was the sergeant in the troop): “hand me the +letter, there! Zacchaeus Martin and Tom Pine--you two bide here on duty: +t'other three fall in about the prisoners--quick march!' The wicked have +digged a pit--'” + +The rogue ended up with a tag from the Psalmist. + +We were march'd down the road for a mile or more, till we heard a loud +bawling, as of a man in much bodily pain, and soon came to a small +village, where, under a tavern lamp, by the door, was a man perch'd up +on a tub, and shouting forth portions of the Scripture to some twenty or +more green-coats assembled round. Our conductor pushed past these, and +enter'd the tavern. At a door to the left in the passage he halted, and +knocking once, thrust us inside. + +The room was bare and lit very dimly by two tallow candles, set in +bottles. Between these, on a deal table, lay a map outspread, and over +it a man was bending, who look'd up sharply at our entrance. + +He was thin, with a blue nose, and wore a green uniform like the rest: +only his carriage proved him a man of authority. + +This Captain Stubbs listened, you may be sure, with a bright'ning eye to +the sergeant's story; and at the close fix'd an inquisitive gaze on the +pair of us, turning the King's letter over and over in his hands. + +“How came this in your possession?” he ask'd at length. + +“That,” said I, “I must decline to tell.” + +He hesitated a moment; then, re-seating himself, broke the seal, spread +the letter upon the map, and read it slowly through. For the first time +I began heartily to hope that the paper contain'd nothing of moment. But +the man's face was no index of this. He read it through twice, folded it +away in his breast, and turn'd to the sergeant-- + + +“To-morrow at six in the morning we continue our march. Meanwhile keep +these fellows secure. I look to you for this.” + +The sergeant saluted and we were led out. That night we pass'd in +handcuffs, huddled with fifty soldiers in a hayloft of the inn and +hearkening to their curious talk, that was half composed of Holy Writ +and half of gibes at our expense. They were beaten men and, like all +such, found comfort in deriding the greater misfortunes of others. + +Before daylight the bugles began to sound, and we were led down to the +green before the tavern door, where already were close upon five hundred +gather'd, that had been billeted about the village and were now forming +in order of march--a soil'd, batter'd crew, with torn ensigns and little +heart in their movements. The sky began a cold drizzle as we set out, +and through this saddening whether we trudged all day, Delia and I being +kept well apart, she with the vanguard and I in the rear, seeing only +the winding column, the dejected heads bobbing in front as they bent to +the slanting rain, the cottagers that came out to stare as we pass'd; +and hearing but the hoarse words of command, the low mutterings of the +men, and always the monotonous _tramp-tramp_ through the slush and mire +of the roads. + +'Tis like a bad dream to me, and I will not dwell on it. That night +we pass'd at Chippenham--a small market town--and on the morrow went +tramping again through worse weather, but always amid the same sights +and sounds. There were moments when I thought to go mad, wrenching at my +cords till my wrists bled, yet with no hope to escape. But in time, by +good luck, my wits grew deaden'd to it all, and I march'd on with the +rest to a kind of lugubrious singsong that my brain supplied. For hours +I went thus, counting my steps, missing my reckoning, and beginning +again. + +Daylight was failing when the towers of Bristol grew clear out of the +leaden mist in front; and by five o'clock we halted outside the walls +and beside the ditch of the castle, waiting for the drawbridge to be let +down. Already a great crowd had gather'd about us, of those who had come +out to learn news of the defeat, which, the day before some fugitives +had carried to Bristol. To their questions, as to all else, I listen'd +like a man in a trance: and recall this only--that first I was shivering +out in the rain and soon after was standing beside Delia, under guard +of a dozen soldiers, and shaking with cold, beneath a gateway that led +between the two wards of the castle. And there, for an hour at least, we +kick'd our heels, until from the inner ward Captain Stubbs came striding +and commanded us to follow. + +Across the court we went in the rain, through a vaulted passage, and +passing a screen of carved oak found ourselves suddenly in a great hall, +near forty yards long (as I reckon it), and rafter'd with oak. At the +far end, around a great marble table, were some ten or more gentlemen +seated, who all with one accord turn'd their eyes upon us, as the +captain brought us forward. + +The table before them was litter'd with maps, warrants, and papers; and +some of the gentlemen had pens in their hands. But the one on whom my +eyes fastened was a tall, fair soldier that sat in the centre, and held +his Majesty's letter, open, in his hand: who rose and bow'd to me as I +came near. + +“Sir,” he said, “the fortune of war having given you into our hands, you +will not refuse, I hope, to answer our questions.” + +“Sir, I have nought to tell,” answer'd I, bowing in return. + +With a delicate white hand he wav'd my words aside. He had a handsome, +irresolute mouth, and was, I could tell, of very different degree from +the merchants and lawyers beside him. + +“You act under orders from the--the--” + +“Anti-Christ,” put in a snappish little fellow on his right. + +“I do nothing of the sort,” said I. + +“Well, then, sir, from King Charles.” + +“I do not.” + +“Tush!” exclaim'd the snappish man, and then straightening himself +up--“That boy with you--that fellow disguis'd as a countryman--look at +his boots!--he's a Papist spy!” + +“There, sir, you are wrong!” + +“I saw him--I'll be sworn to his face--I saw him, a year back, at Douai, +helping at the mass! I never forget faces.” + +“Why, what nonsense!” cried I, and burst out laughing. + +“Don't mock at me, sir!” he thunder'd, bringing down his fist on the +table. “I tell you the boy is a Papist!” He pointed furiously at Delia, +who, now laughing also, answer'd him very demurely--- + +“Indeed, sir--” + +“I saw you, I say.” + +“You are bold to make so certain of a Papist--” + +“I saw you!” + +“That cannot even tell maid from man!” + +“What is meant by that?” asks the tall soldier, opening his eyes. + +“Why, simply this, sir: I am no boy at all, but a girl!” + +There was a minute, during which the little man went purple in the face, +and the rest star'd at Delia in blank astonishment. + +“Oh, Jack,” she whisper'd in my ear, “I am so very, very sorrow: but I +_cannot_ wear these hateful clothes much longer.” + +She fac'd the company with a rosy blush. + +“What say you to this?” ask'd Colonel Essex--for 'twas he--turning round +on the little man. + +“Say? What do I say? That the fellow is a Papist, too. I knew it from +the first, and this proves it!” + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +I BREAK OUT OF PRISON. + + +You are now to be ask'd to pass over the next four weeks in as many +minutes: as would I had done at the time! For I spent them in a bitter +cold cell in the main tower of Bristol keep, with a chair and a pallet +of straw for all my furniture, and nothing to stay my fast but the bread +and water that the jailer--a sour man, if ever there were one--brought +me twice a day. + +This keep lies in the northwest corner of the outer ward of the +castle--a mighty tall pile and strongly built, the walls (as the jailer +told me) being a full twenty-five feet thick near the foundations, tho' +by time you ascended to the towers this thickness had dwindled to six +feet and no more. In shape 'twas a quadrilateral, a little shorter from +north to south than from east to west (in which latter direction it +measured sixty feet, about), and had four towers standing at the four +corners, whereof mine was five fathoms higher than the rest. + +Guess, then, how little I thought of escape, having but one window, a +hundred feet (I do believe) above the ground, and that so narrow that, +even without the iron bar across it, 'twould barely let my shoulders +pass. What concern'd me more was the cold that gnaw'd me continually +these winter nights, as I lay thinking of Delia (whom I had not seen +since our examination), or gazing out on the patch of frosty heaven +that was all my view. 'Twas thus I had heard Bristol bells ringing for +Christmas in the town below. + +Colonel Essex had been thrice to visit me, and always offer'd many +excuses for my treatment; but when he came to question me, why of course +I had nothing to tell, so that each visit but served to vex him more. +Clearly I was suspected to know a great deal beyond what appear'd in +the letter: and no doubt poor Anthony Killigrew had receiv'd some verbal +message from His Majesty which he lived not long enough to transmit to +me. As 'twas, I kept silence; and the Colonel in return would tell me +nothing of what had befallen Delia. + +One fine, frosty morning, then, when I had lain in this distress just +four weeks, the door of my cell open'd, and there appear'd a young +woman, not uncomely, bringing in my bread and water. She was the +jailer's daughter, and wore a heavy bunch of keys at her girdle. + +“Oh, good morning!” said I: for till now her father only had visited me, +and this was a welcome change. + +Instead of answering cheerfully (as I look'd for), she gave a little nod +of the head, rather sorrowful, and answered:-- + +“Father's abed with the ague.” + +“Now you cannot expect me to be sorry.” + +“Nay,” she said; and I caught her looking at me with something like +compassion in her blue eyes, which mov'd me to cry out suddenly--- + +“I think you are woman enough to like a pair of lovers.” + +“Oh, aye: but where's t'other half of the pair?” + +“You're right. The young gentlewoman that was brought hither with me--I +know not if she loves me: but this I do know--I would give my hand to +learn her whereabouts, and how she fares.” + +“Better eat thy loaf,” put in the girl very suddenly, setting down the +plate and pitcher. + +'Twas odd, but I seem'd to hear a sob in her voice. However, her back +was toward me as I glanc'd up. And next moment she was gone, locking the +iron door behind her. + +I turn'd from my breakfast with a sigh, having for the moment tasted +the hope to hear something of Delia. But in a while, feeling hungry, I +pick'd up the loaf beside me, and broke it in two. + +To my amaze, out dropp'd something that jingled on the stone floor. + +'Twas a small file: and examining the loaf again, I found a clasp-knife +also, and a strip of paper, neatly folded, hidden in the bread. + +“Deare Jack, + +“Colonel Essex, finding no good come of his interrogatories, hath set me +at large; tho' I continue under his eye, to wit, with a dowager of his +acquaintance, a Mistress Finch. Wee dwell in a private house midway down +St. Thomas his street, in Redcliffe: and she hath put a dismal dress +upon me (Jack, 'tis _hideous_), but otherwise uses me not ill. But take +care of thyself, my deare friend: for tho' the Colonel be a gentilman, +he is press'd by them about him, and at our last interview I noted a +mischief in his eye. Canst use this file?--(but take care: all the +gates I saw guarded with troopers to-day.) This by one who hath been +my friend: for whose sake tear the paper up. And beleeve your cordial, +loving comrade + +“D. K.” + +After reading this a dozen times, till I had it by heart, I tore the +letter into small pieces and hid them in my pocket. This done, I felt +lighter-hearted than for many a day, and (rather for employment than +with any farther view) began lazily to rub away at my window bar. The +file work'd well. By noon the bar was half sever'd, and I broke off to +whistle a tune. 'Twas--- + + “Vivre en tout cas, + C'est le grand soulas--” + +and I broke off to hear the key turning in my lock. + +The jailer's daughter enter'd with my second meal. Her eyes were red +with weeping. + +Said I, “Does your father beat you?” + +“He has, before now,” she replied: “but not to-day.” + +“Then why do you weep?” + +“Not for that.” + +“For what then?” + +“For you--oh, dear, dear! How shall I tell it? They are going to--to---” + She sat down on the chair, and sobb'd in her apron. + +“What is't they are going to do?” + +“To--to--h-hang you.” + +“The devil! When?” + +“Tut-tut-to-morrow mo-horning!” + +I went suddenly very cold all over. There was silence for a moment, and +then I heard the noise of some one dropping a plank in the courtyard +below. + +“What's that?” + +“The gug-gug---” + +“Gallows?” + +She nodded. + +“You are but a weak girl,” said I, meditating. + +“Aye: but there's a dozen troopers on the landing below.” + +“Then, my dear, you must lock me up,” I decided gloomily, and fell to +whistling---- + + “Vivre en tout cas, + C'est le grand soulas--” + +A workman's hammer in the court below chim'd in, beating out the tune, +and driving the moral home. I heard a low sob behind me. The jailer's +daughter was going. + +“Lend me your bodkin, my dear, for a memento.” + +She pull'd it out and gave it to me. + +“Thank you, and now good-bye! Stop: here's a kiss to take to my dear +mistress. They shan't hang me, my dear.” + +The girl went out, sobbing, and lock'd the door after her. + +I sat down for a while, feeling doleful. For I found myself extremely +young to be hang'd. But soon the _whang--whang!_ of the hammer below +rous'd me. “Come,” I thought, “I'll see what that rascal is doing, at +any rate,” and pulling the file from my pocket, began to attack the +window bar with a will. I had no need for silence, at this great height +above the ground: and besides, the hammering continued lustily. + +Daylight was closing as I finish'd my task and, pulling the two pieces +of the bar aside, thrust my head out at the window. + +Directly under me, and about twenty feet from the ground, I saw a beam +projecting, about six feet long, over a sort of doorway in the wall. +Under this beam, on a ladder, was a carpenter fellow at work, fortifying +it with two supporting timbers that rested on the sill of the doorway. +He was merry enough over the job, and paused every now and again to +fling a remark to a little group of soldiers that stood idling below, +where the fellow's workbag and a great coil of rope rested by the +ladder's foot. + +“Reckon, Sammy,” said one, pulling a long tobacco pipe from his mouth +and spitting, “'tis a long while since thy last job o' the sort.” + +“Aye, lad: terrible disrepair this place has fall'n into. But send us a +cheerful heart, say I! Instead o' the viper an' owl, shall henceforward +be hangings of men an' all manner o' diversion.” + +I kept my head out of sight and listen'd. + +“What time doth 'a swing?” ask'd another of the soldiers. + +“I heard the Colonel give orders for nine o'clock to-morrow,” answer'd +the first soldier, spitting again. + +The clock over the barbican struck four: and in a minute was being +answer'd from tower after tower, down in the city. + +“Four o'clock!” cried the man on the ladder: “time to stop work, and +here goes for the last nail!” He drove it in and prepar'd to descend. + +“Hi!” shouted a soldier, “you've forgot the rope.” + +“That'll wait till to-morrow. There's a staple to drive in, too. I tell +you I'm dry, and want my beer.” + +He whipp'd his apron round his waist, and gathering up his nails, +went down the ladder. At the foot he pick'd up his bag, shoulder'd +the ladder, and loung'd away, leaving the coil of rope lying there. +Presently the soldiers saunter'd off also, and the court was empty. + +Now up to this moment I had but one idea of avoiding my fate, and that +was to kill myself. 'Twas to this end I had borrow'd the bodkin of the +maid. Afterward I had a notion of flinging myself from the window as +they came for me. But now, as I look'd down on that coil of rope lying +directly below, a prettier scheme struck me. I sat down on the floor of +my cell and pull'd off my boots and stockings. + +'Twas such a pretty plan that I got into a fever of impatience. Drawing +off a stocking and picking out the end of the yarn, I began to unravel +the knitting for dear life, until the whole lay, a heap of thread, on +the floor. I then serv'd the other in the same way: and at the end had +two lines, each pretty near four hundred yards in length: which now I +divided into eight lines of about a hundred yards each. + +With these I set to work, and by the end of twenty minutes had plaited +a rope--if rope, indeed, it could be called--weak to be sure, but long +enough to reach the ground with plenty to spare. Then, having bent my +bodkin to the form of a hook, I tied it to the end of my cord, weighted +it with a crown from my pocket, and clamber'd up to the window. I was +going to angle for the hangman's rope. + +'Twas near dark by this; but I could just distinguish it on the paving +stones below, and looking about the court, saw that no one was astir. +I wriggled first my head, then a shoulder, through the opening, and let +the line run gently through my hand. There was still many yards left, +that could be paid out, when I heard my coin tinkle softly on the +pavement. + +Then began my difficulty. A dozen times I pull'd my hook across the coil +before it hitch'd; and then a full three score of times the rope slipped +away before I had rais'd it a dozen yards. My elbow was raw, almost, +with leaning on the sill, and I began to lose heart and head, when, to +my delight, the bodkin caught and held. It had fasten'd on a kink in +the rope, not far from the end. I began to pull up, hand over hand, +trembling all the while like a leaf. + +For I had two very reasonable fears. First, the rope might slip away and +tumble before it reach'd my grasp. Secondly, it might, after all, prove +a deal too short. It had look'd to me a new rope of many fathoms, not +yet cut for to-morrow's purpose; but eyesight might well deceive at that +distance, and surely enough I saw that the whole was dangling off the +ground long before it came to my hand. + +But at last I caught it, and slipping back into the room, pull'd it +after me, yard upon yard. My heart went loud and fast. There was nothing +to fasten it to but an iron staple in the door, that meant losing the +width of my cell, some six feet. This, however, must be risk'd, and I +made the end fast, lower'd the other out of window again, and climbing +to a sitting posture on the window sill, thrust out my legs over the +gulf. + +Thankful was I that darkness had fallen before this, and hidden the +giddy depths below me. I gripp'd the rope and push'd myself inch by +inch through the window, and out over the ledge. For a moment I dangled, +without courage to move a hand. Then, wreathing my legs round the rope, +I loosed my left hand, and caught with it again some six inches lower. +And so, down I went. + +Minute follow'd minute, and left me still descending, six inches at a +time, and looking neither above nor below, but always at the grey wall +that seem'd sliding up in front of me. The first dizziness was over, but +a horrible aching of the arms had taken the place of it. 'Twas growing +intolerable, when suddenly my legs, that sought to close round the rope, +found space only. I had come to the end. + +I look'd down. A yard below my feet the beam of the gallows gleam'd +palely out of the darkness. Here was my chance. I let my hands slip down +the last foot or so of rope, hung for a moment, then dropp'd for the +beam. + +My feet miss'd it, as I intended they should; but I flung both arms out +and caught it, bringing myself up with a jerk. While yet I hung clawing, +I heard a footstep coming through the gateway between the two wards. + +Here was a fix. With all speed and silence I drew myself up to the beam, +found a hold with one knee upon it, got astride, and lay down at length, +flattening my body down against the timber. Yet all the while I felt +sure I must have been heard. + +The footsteps drew nearer, and pass'd almost under the gallows. 'Twas an +officer, for, as he pass'd, he called out--- + +“Sergeant Downs! Sergeant Downs!” + +A voice from the guardroom in the barbican answer'd him through the +darkness. + +“Why is not the watch set?” + +“In a minute, sir: it wants a minute to six.” + +“I thought the Colonel order'd it at half past five?” + +In the silence that follow'd, the barbican clock began to strike, and +half a dozen troopers tumbled out from the guardroom, some laughing, +some grumbling at the coldness of the night. The officer return'd to the +inner ward as they dispersed to their posts: and soon there was silence +again, save for the _tramp-tramp_ of a sentry crossing and recrossing +the pavement below me. + +All this while I lay flatten'd along the beam, scarce daring to breathe. +But at length, when the man had pass'd below for the sixth time, I +found heart to wriggle myself toward the doorway over which the gallows +protruded. By slow degrees, and pausing whenever the fellow drew near, +I crept close up to the wall: then, waiting the proper moment, cast my +legs over, dangled for a second or two swinging myself toward the sill, +flung myself off, and, touching the ledge with one toe, pitch'd forward +in the room. + +The effect of this was to give me a sound crack as I struck the +flooring, which lay about a foot below the level of the sill. I pick'd +myself up and listen'd. Outside, the regular tramp of the sentry prov'd +he had not heard me; and I drew a long breath, for I knew that without a +lantern he would never spy, in the darkness, the telltale rope dangling +from the tower. + +In the room where I stood all was right. But the flooring was uneven to +the foot, and scatter'd with small pieces of masonry. 'Twas one of the +many chambers in the castle that had dropp'd into disrepair. Groping my +way with both hands, and barking my shins on the loose stones, I found +a low vaulted passage that led me into a second chamber, empty as the +first. To my delight, the door of this was ajar, with a glimmer of light +slanting through the crack. I made straight toward it, and pull'd the +door softly. It open'd, and show'd a lantern dimly burning, and the +staircase of the keep winding past me, up into darkness. + +My chance was, of course, to descend: which I did on tiptoe, hearing no +sound. The stairs twisted down and down, and ended by a stout door with +another lamp shining above it. After listening a moment I decided to be +bold, and lifted the latch. A faint cry saluted me. + +I stood face to face with the jailer's daughter. + +The room was a small one, well lit, and lin'd about the walls with cups +and bottles. 'Twas, as I guess'd, a taproom for the soldiers: and the +girl had been scouring one of the pewter mugs when my entrance startled +her. She stood up, white as if painted, and gasp'd-- + +“Quick--quick! Down here behind the counter for your life!” + +There was scarce time to drop on my knees before a couple of troopers +loung'd in, demanding mull'd beer. The girl bustled about to serve them, +while the pair lean'd their elbows on the counter, and in this easy +attitude began to chat. + +“A shrewd night!” + +“Aye, a very freezing frost! Lucky that soldiering is not all sentry +work, or I for one 'ud ensue my natural trade o' plumbing. But let's be +cheerful: for the voice o' the turtle is heard i' the land.” + +“Hey?” + +The man took a pull at his hot beer before explaining. + +“The turtle signifieth the Earl o' Stamford, that is to-night visiting +Colonel Essex in secret: an' this is the import--war, bloody war. Mark +me.” + +“Stirring, striving times!” + +“You may say so! 'A hath fifteen thousand men, the Earl, no farther off +than Taunton--why, my dear, how pale you look, to be sure!” + +“'Tis my head that aches,” answer'd the girl. + +The men finish'd their drink, and saunter'd out. I crept from under the +counter, and look'd at her. + +“Father'll kill me for this!” + +“Then you shall say--Is it forward or back I must go?” + +“Neither.” She pull'd up a trap close beside her feet, and pointed out a +ladder leading down to the darkness. “The courts are full of troopers,” + she added. + +“The cellar?” + +She nodded. + +“Quick! There's a door at the far end. It leads to the crypt of St. +John's Chapel. You'll find the key beside it, and a lantern. Here is +flint and steel.” She reach'd them down from a shelf beside her. “Crouch +down, or they'll spy you through the window. From the crypt a passage +takes you to the governor's house. How to escape then, God knows! 'Tis +the best I can think on.” + +I thank'd her, and began to step down the ladder. She stood for a moment +to watch, leaving the trap open for better light. Between the avenue of +casks and bins I stumbled toward the door and lantern that were just to +be discern'd at the far end of the cellar. As I struck steel on flint, +I heard the trap close: and since then have never set eyes on that +kind-hearted girl. + +The lantern lit, I took the key and fitted it to the lock. It turned +noisily, and a cold whiff of air struck my face. Gazing round this new +chamber, I saw two lines of squat pillars, supporting a low arch'd roof. +'Twas the crypt beneath the chapel, and smelt vilely. A green moisture +trickled down the pillars, and dripp'd on the tombs beneath them. + +At the end of this dreary place was a broken door, consisting only of a +plank or two, that I easily pull'd away: and beyond, a narrow passage, +over which I heard the tread of troopers plainly, as they pac'd to and +fro; also the muffled note of the clock, sounding seven. + +The passage went fairly straight, but was block'd here and there +with fallen stones, over which I scrambled as best I could. And then, +suddenly I was near pitching down a short flight of steps. I held the +lantern aloft and look'd. + +At the steps' foot widen'd out a low room, whereof the ceiling, like +that of the crypt, rested on pillars. Between these, every inch of space +was pil'd with barrels, chests, and great pyramids of round shot. In +each corner lay a heap of rusty pikes. Of all this the signification was +clear. I stood in the munition room of the Castle. + +But what chiefly took my notice was a great door, studded with iron +nails, that barr'd all exit from the place. Over the barrels I crept +toward it, keeping the lantern high, in dread of firing any loose +powder. 'Twas fast lock'd. + +I think that, for a moment or two, I could have wept. But in a while the +thought struck me that with the knife in my pocket 'twas possible to cut +away the wood around the lock. “Courage!” said I: and pulling it forth, +knelt down to work. + +Luck in life has always used me better than my deserts. At an hour's end +there I was, hacking away steadily, yet had made but little progress. +And then, pressing the knife deep, I broke the blade off short. The door +upon the far side was cas'd with iron. + +_Tramp--tramp!_ + +'Twas the sound of man's footfall, and to the ear appear'd to be +descending a flight of steps on the other side of the door. I bent my +ear to the keyhole: then stepp'd to a cask of bullets that stood handy +by. I took out a dozen, felt in my pocket for Delia's kerchief that she +had given me, caught up a pike from the pile stack'd in the corner, and +softly blowing out my light, stood back to be conceal'd by the door, +when it open'd. + +The footsteps still descended. I heard an aged voice muttering-- + +“Shrivel my bones--ugh!--ugh! Wintry work--wintry work! Here's an hour +to send a grandfatherly man a-groping for a keg o' powder!” + +A wheezy cough clos'd the sentence, as a key was with difficulty fitted +in the lock. + +“Ugh--ugh! Sure, the lock an' I be a pair, for stiff joints.” + +The door creak'd back against me, and a shaft of light pierc'd the +darkness. + +Within the threshold, with his back to me, stood a grey-bearded servant, +and totter'd so that the lantern shook in his hand. It sham'd me to lift +a pike against one so weak. Instead, I dropp'd it with a clatter, and +leap'd forward. The old fellow jumped like a boy, turn'd, and fac'd me +with dropp'd jaw, which gave me an opportunity to thrust four or five +bullets, not over roughly, into his mouth. Then, having turn'd him on +his back, I strapp'd Delia's kerchief tight across his mouth, and took +the lantern from his hand. + +Not a word was said. Sure, the poor old man's wits were shaken, for he +lay meek as a mouse, and star'd up at me, while I unstrapp'd his belt +and bound his feet with it. His hands I truss'd up behind him with his +own neckcloth; and catching up the lantern, left him there. I lock'd +the door after me, and slip'd the key into my pocket as I sprang up the +stairs beyond. + +But here a light was shining, so once more I extinguish'd my lantern. +The steps ended in a long passage, with a handsome lamp hanging at the +uttermost end, and beneath this lamp I stepp'd into a place that fill'd +me with astonishment. + +'Twas, I could not doubt, the entrance hall of the governor's house. An +oak door, very massive, fronted me; to left and right were two smaller +doors, that plainly led into apartments of the house. Also to my +left, and nigher than the door on that side, ran up a broad staircase, +carpeted and brightly lit all the way, so that a very blaze fell on me +as I stood. Under the first flight, close to my left shoulder, was a +line of pegs with many cloaks and hats depending therefrom. Underfoot, I +remember, the hall was richly tiled in squares of red and white marble. + +Now clearly, this was a certain place wherein to be caught. “But,” + thought I, “behind one of the two doors, to left or to right, must lie +the governor's room of business; and in that room--as likely as not--his +keys.” Which door, then, should I choose? For to stay here was madness. + +While I stood pondering, the doubt was answer'd for me. From behind the +right-hand door came a burst of laughter and clinking of glasses, on top +of which a man's voice--the voice of Colonel Essex--call'd out for more +wine. + +I took a step to the door on the left, paus'd for a second or two with +my hand on the latch, and then cautiously push'd it open. The chamber +was empty. + +'Twas a long room, with a light burning on a square centre table, and +around it a mass of books, loose papers and documents strewn, seemingly +without order. The floor too was litter'd with them. Clearly this was +the Colonel's office. + +I gave a rapid glance around. The lamp's rays scarce illumin'd the far +corners; but in one of these stood a great leathern screen, and over +the fireplace near it a rack was hanging, full of swords, pistols, and +walking canes. Stepping toward it I caught sight of Anthony's sword, +suspended there amongst the rest (they had taken it from me on the day +of my examination); which now I took down and strapp'd at my side. I +then chose out a pistol or two, slipped them into my sash, and advanced +to the centre table. + +Under the lamplight lay His Majesty's letter, open. + +My hand was stretch'd out to catch it up, when I heard across the hall a +door open'd, and the sound of men's voices. They were coming toward the +office. + +There was scarce time to slip back, and hide behind the screen, before +the door latch was lifted, and two men enter'd, laughing yet. + +“Business, my lord--business,” said the first ['twas Colonel Essex): “I +have much to do to-night.” + +“Sure,” the other answer'd, “I thought we had settled it. You are to +lend me a thousand out of your garrison--” + +“Which, on my own part, I would willingly do. Only I beg you to +consider, my lord, that my position here hangs on a thread. The extreme +men are already against me: they talk of replacing me by Fiennes--” + +“Nat Fiennes is no soldier.” + +“No: but he's a bigot--a stronger recommendation. Should this plan +miscarry, and I lose a thousand men---” + +“Heavens alive, man! It _cannot_ miscarry. Hark ye: there's Ruthen of +Plymouth will take the south road with all his forces. A day's march +behind I shall follow--along roads to northward--parallel for a way, but +afterward converging. The Cornishmen are all in Bodmin. We shall come +on them with double their number, aye, almost treble. Can you doubt the +issue?” + +“Scarcely, with the Earl of Stamford for General.” + +The Earl was too far occupied to notice this compliment. + +“'Twill be swift and secret,” he said, “as Death himself--and as sure. +Let be the fact that Hopton is all at sixes and sevens since the Marquis +shipp'd for Wales: and at daggers drawn with Mohun.” + +Said the Colonel slowly--“Aye, the notion is good enough. Were I not in +this corner, I would not think twice. Listen now: only this morning they +forc'd me to order a young man's hanging, who might if kept alive be +forc'd in time to give us news of value. I dar'd not refuse.” + +“He that you caught with the King's letter?” + +“Aye--a trumpery missive, dealing with naught but summoning of the +sheriff's posse and the like. There is more behind, could we but wait to +get at it.” + +“The gallows may loosen his tongue. And how of the girl that was taken +too?” + +“I have her in safe keeping. This very evening I shall visit her, and +make another trial to get some speech. Which puts me in mind--” + +The Colonel tinkled a small hand bell that lay on the table. + +The pause that followed was broken by the Earl. + +“May I see the letter?” + +The Colonel handed it, and tinkled the bell again, more impatiently. At +length steps were heard in the hall, and a servant open'd the door. + +“Where is Giles?” ask'd the Colonel. “Why are you taking his place?” + +“Giles can't be found, your honor.” + +“Hey?” + +“He's a queer oldster, your honor, an' maybe gone to bed wi' his aches +and pains.” + +(I knew pretty well that Giles had done no such thing: but be sure I +kept the knowledge safe behind my screen.) + +“Then go seek him, and say--No, stop: I can't wait. Order the coach +around at the barbican in twenty minutes from now--twenty minutes, mind, +without fail. And say--'twill save time--the fellow's to drive me to +Mistress Finch's house in St. Thomas' Street--sharp!” + +As the man departed on his errand, the Earl laid down His Majesty's +letter. + +“Hang the fellow,” he said, “if they want it: the blame, if any, will +be theirs. But, in the name of Heaven, Colonel, don't fail in lending me +this thousand men! 'Twill finish the war out of hand.” + +“I'll do it,” answered the Colonel slowly. + +“And I'll remember it,” said the Earl. “To-morrow, at six o'clock, I set +out.” + +The two men shook hands on their bargain and left the room, shutting the +door after them. + +I crept forth from behind the screen, my heart thumping on my ribs. Thus +far it had been all fear and trembling with me; but now this was chang'd +to a kind of panting joy. 'Twas not that I had spied the prison keys +hanging near the fireplace, nor that behind the screen lay a heap of +the Colonel's riding boots, whereof a pair, ready spurr'd, fitted me +choicely well; but that my ears tingled with news that turn'd my escape +to a matter of public welfare: and also that the way to escape lay +plann'd in my head. + +Shod in the Colonel's boots, I advanc'd again to the table. With +sealing-wax and the Governor's seal, that lay handy, I clos'd up the +King's letter, and sticking it in my breast, caught down the bunch of +keys and made for the door. + +The hall was void. I snatch'd down a cloak and heavy broad-brimm'd hat +from one of the pegs, and donning them, slipp'd back the bolts of the +heavy door. It opened without noise. Then, with a last hitch of the +cloak, to bring it well about me, I stepp'd forth into the night, +shutting the door quietly on my heels. + +My feet were on the pavement of the inner ward. Above, one star +only broke the blackness of the night. Across the court was a sentry +tramping. As I walk'd boldly up, he stopped short by the gate between +the wards and regarded me. + +Now was my danger. I knew not the right key for the wicket: and if I +fumbled, the fellow would detect me for certain. I chose one and drew +nearer; the fellow look'd, saluted, stepp'd to the wicket, and open'd it +himself. + +“Good night, Colonel!” + +I did not trust myself to answer: but passed rapidly through to the +outer ward. Here, to my joy, in the arch'd passage of the barbican gate, +was the carriage waiting, the porter standing beside the door; and +here also, to my dismay, was a torch alight, and under it half a dozen +soldiers chatting. A whisper pass'd on my approach-- + +“The Colonel!” and they hurried into the guardroom. + +“Good evening, Colonel!” The porter bow'd low, holding the door wide. + +I pass'd him rapidly, climb'd into the shadow of the coach, and drew a +long breath. + +Then ensued a hateful pause, as the great gates were unbarr'd. I gripp'd +ray knees for impatience. + +The driver spoke a word to the porter, who came round to the coach door +again. + +“To Mistress Finch's, is it not?” + +“Ay,” I muttered; “and quickly.” + +The coachman touched up his pair. The wheels mov'd; went quicker. We +were outside the Castle. + +With what relief I lean'd back as the Castle gates clos'd behind us! And +with what impatience at our slow pace I sat upright again next minute! +The wheels rumbled over the bridge, and immediately we were rolling +easily down hill, through a street of some importance: but by this time +the shutters were up along the shop fronts and very few people abroad. +At the bottom we turn'd sharp to the left along a broader thoroughfare: +and then suddenly drew up. + +“Are we come?” I wonder'd. But no: 'twas the city gate, and here we had +to wait for three minutes at least, till the sentries recogniz'd the +Colonel's coach and open'd the doors to us. They stood on this side +and that, presenting arms, as we rattled through; and next moment I was +crossing a broad bridge, with the dark Avon on either side of me, and +the vessels thick thereon, their lanterns casting long lines of yellow +on the jetty water, their masts and cordage looming up against the dull +glare of the city. + +Soon we were between lines of building once more, shops, private +dwellings and warehouses intermix'd; then pass'd a tall church; and in +about two minutes more drew up again. I look'd out. + +Facing me was a narrow gateway leading to a house that stood somewhat +back from the street, as if slipping away from between the lines of +shops that wedg'd it in on either hand. Over the grill a link was +burning. I stepp'd from the coach, open'd the gate, and crossing the +small court, rang at the house bell. + +At first there was no answer. I rang again: and now had the satisfaction +to hear a light footfall coming. A bolt was pull'd and a girl appear'd +holding a candle high in her hand. Quick as thought, I stepped past her +into the passage. + +“Delia!” + +“Jack!” + +“Hist! Close the door. Where is Mistress Finch?” + +“Upstairs, expecting Colonel Essex. Oh, the happy day! Come--” she +led me into a narrow back room and setting down the light regarded +me--“Jack, my eyes are red for thee!” + +“I see they are. To-morrow I was to be hang'd.” + +She put her hands together, catching her breath: and very lovely I +thought her, in her straight grey gown and Puritan cap. + +“They have been questioning me. Didst get my letter?” + +The answer was on my lip when there came a sound that made us both +start. + +'Twas the dull echo of a gun firing, up at the Castle. + +“Delia, what lies at the back here?” + +“A garden and a garden door: after these a lane leading to Redcliff +Street.” + +“I must go, this moment.” + +“And I?” + +She did not wait my answer, but running out into the passage, she came +swiftly back with a heavy key. I open'd the window. + +“Delia! De-lia!” 'Twas a woman's voice calling her, at the head of the +stairs. + +“Aye, Mistress Finch.” + +“Who was that at the door?” + +I sprang into the garden and held forth a hand to Delia. “In one moment, +mistress!” call'd she, and in one moment was hurrying with me across the +dark garden beds. As she fitted the key to the garden gate, I heard the +voice again. + +“De-lia!” + +'Twas drown'd in a--wild _rat-a-tat!_ on the street door, and the shouts +of many voices. We were close press'd. + +“Now, Jack--to the right for our lives! Ah, these clumsy skirts!” + +We turn'd into the lane and rac'd down it. For my part, I swore to drown +myself in Avon rather than let those troopers retake me. I heard their +outcries about the house behind us, as we stumbled over the frozen +rubbish heaps with which the lane was bestrewn. + +“What's our direction?” panted I, catching Delia's hand to help her +along. + +“To the left now--for the river.” + +We struck into a narrow side street; and with that heard a watchman +bawl--- + +“_Past nine o' the night, an' a--!_” + +The shock of our collision sent him to finish his say in the gutter. + +“Thieves!” he yell'd. + +But already we were twenty yards away, and now in a broader street, +whereof one side was wholly lin'd with warehouses. And here, to our +dismay, we heard shouts behind, and the noise of feet running. + +About halfway down the street I spied a gateway standing ajar, and +pull'd Delia aside, into a courtyard litter'd with barrels and timbers, +and across it to a black empty barn of a place, where a flight of wooden +steps glimmer'd, that led to an upper story. We climb'd these stairs at +a run. + +“Faugh! What a vile smell!” + +The loft was pil'd high with great bales of wool, as I found by the +touch, and their odor enough to satisfy an army. Nevertheless, I was +groping about for a place to hide, when Delia touch'd me by the arm, and +pointed. + +Looking, I descried in the gloom a tall quadrilateral of purple, not +five steps away, with a speck of light shining near the top of it, and +three dark streaks running down the middle, whereof one was much thicker +than the rest. 'Twas an open doorway; the speck, a star fram'd within +it; the broad streak, a ship's mast reaching up; and the lesser ones +two ends of a rope, working over a pulley above my head, and used for +lowering the bales of wool on shipboard. + +Advancing, I stood on the sill and look'd down. On the black water, +twenty feet below, lay a three-masted trader, close against the +warehouse. My toes stuck out over her deck, almost. + +At first glance I could see no sign of life on board: but presently was +aware of a dark figure leaning over the bulwarks, near the bows. He +was quite motionless. His back was toward us, blotted against the black +shadow; and the man engag'd only, it seem'd, in watching the bright +splash of light flung by the ship's lantern on the water beneath him. + +I resolv'd to throw myself on the mercy of this silent figure; and put +out a hand to test the rope. One end of it was fix'd to a bale of wool +that lay, as it had been lower'd, on the deck. Flinging myself on the +other, I found it sink gently from the pulley, as the weight below moved +slowly upward: and sinking with it, I held on till my feet touch'd the +deck. + +Still the figure in the bows was motionless. + +I paid out my end of the rope softly, lowering back the bale of wool: +and, as soon as it rested again on deck, signalled to Delia to let +herself down. + +She did so. As she alighted, and stood beside me, our hands bungled. The +rope slipp'd up quickly, letting down the bale with a run. + +We caught at the rope, and stopp'd it just in time: but the pulley above +creak'd vociferously. I turn'd my head. + +The man in the bows had not mov'd. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE. + + +“Now either I am mad or dreaming,” thought I: for that the fellow had +not heard our noise was to me starkly incredible. I stepp'd along +the deck toward him: not an inch did he budge. I touch'd him on the +shoulder. + +He fac'd round with a quick start. + +“Sir,” said I, quick and low, before he could get a word out--“Sir, we +are in your hands. I will be plain. To-night I have broke out of Bristol +Keep, and the Colonel's men are after me. Give me up to them, and they +hang me to-morrow: give my comrade up, and they persecute her vilely. +Now, sir, I know not which side you be, but there's our case in a +nutshell.” + +The man bent forward, displaying a huge, rounded face, very kindly about +the eyes, and set atop of the oddest body in the world: for under a +trunk extraordinary broad and strong, straddled & pair of legs that a +baby would have disown'd--so thin and stunted were they, and (to make it +the queerer) ended in feet the most prodigious you ever saw. + +As I said, this man lean'd forward, and shouted into my ear so that I +fairly leap'd in the air-- + +“My name's Pottery--Bill Pottery, cap'n o' the _Godsend_--an' you can't +make me hear, not if you bust yoursel'!” + +You may think this put me in a fine quandary. + +“I be deaf as nails!” bawl'd he. + +'Twas horrible: for the troopers (I thought) if anywhere near, could not +miss hearing him. His voice shook the very rigging. + +“... An' o' my crew the half ashore gettin' drunk, an' the half below +in a very accomplished state o' liquor: so there's no chance for 'ee to +speak!” + +He paus'd a moment, then roared again--- + +“What a pity! 'Cos you make me very curious--that you do!” + +Luckily, at this moment, Delia had the sense to put a finger to her lip. +The man wheel'd round without another word, led us aft over the blocks, +cordage, and all manner of loose gear that encumber'd the deck, to a +ladder that, toward the stern, led down into darkness. Here he sign'd +to us to follow; and, descending first, threw open a door, letting out +a faint stream of light in our faces. 'Twas the captain's cabin, lin'd +with cupboards and lockers: and the light came from an oil lamp hanging +over a narrow deal table. By this light Captain Billy scrutiniz'd us for +an instant: then, from one of his lockers, brought out pen, paper, and +ink, and set them on the table before me. + +[Illustration: “Master Pottery shaking us both by the hand.”] + +I caught up the pen, dipp'd it, and began to write-- + +“I am John Marvel, a servant of King Charles; and this night am escap'd +out of Bristol Castle. If you be--” + +Thus far I had written without glancing up, in fear to read the +disappointment of my hopes. But now the pen was caught suddenly from my +fingers, the paper torn in shreds, and there was Master Pottery shaking +us both by the hand, nodding and becking, and smiling the while all over +his big red face. + +But he ceas'd at last: and opening another of his lockers, drew forth +a horn lantern, a mallet, and a chisel. Not a word was spoken as he lit +the lantern and pass'd out of the cabin, Delia and I following at his +heels. + +Just outside, at the foot of the steps, he stoop'd, pull'd up a trap +in the flooring, and disclos'd another ladder stretching, as it seem'd, +down into the bowels of the ship. This we descended carefully; and found +ourselves in the hold, pinching our noses 'twixt finger and thumb. + +For indeed the smell here was searching to a very painful degree: for +the room was narrow, and every inch of it contested by two puissant +essences, the one of raw wood, the other of bilge water. With wool the +place was pil'd: but also I notic'd, not far from the ladder, several +casks set on their ends; and to these the captain led us. + +They were about a dozen in all, stacked close together: and Master +Pottery, rolling two apart from the rest, dragg'd them to another trap +and tugg'd out the bungs. A stream of fresh water gush'd from each and +splash'd down the trap into the bilge below. Then, having drained them, +he stay'd in their heads with a few blows of his mallet. + +His plan for us was clear. And in a very few minutes Delia and I were +crouching on the timbers, each with a cask inverted over us, our noses +at the bungholes and our ears listening to Master Pottery's footsteps +as they climb'd heavily back to deck. The rest of the casks were stack'd +close round us, so that even had the gloom allow'd, we could see nothing +at all. + +“Jack!” + +“Delia!” + +“Dost feel heroical at all?” + +“Not one whit. There's a trickle of water running down my back, to begin +with.” + +“And my nose it itches; and oh, what a hateful smell! Say something to +me, Jack.” + +“My dear,” said I, “there is one thing I've been longing these weeks to +say: but this seems an odd place for it.” + +“What is't?” + +I purs'd up my lips to the bunghole, and--- + +“I love you,” said I. + +There was silence for a moment: and then, within Delia's cask, the sound +of muffled laughter. + +“Delia,” I urg'd, “I mean it, upon my oath. Wilt marry me, sweetheart?” + +“Must get out of this cask first. Oh, Jack, what a dear goose thou art!” + And the laughter began again. + +I was going to answer, when I heard a loud shouting overhead. 'Twas the +sound of someone hailing the ship, and thought I, “the troopers are on +us!” + +They were, in truth. Soon I heard the noise of feet above and a string +of voices speaking one after another, louder and louder. And next Master +Pottery began to answer up and drown'd all speech but his own. When he +ceas'd, there was silence for some minutes: after which we heard a party +descend to the cabin, and the trampling of their feet on the boards +above us. They remain'd there some while discussing: and then came +footsteps down the second ladder, and a twinkle of light reach'd me +through the bunghole of my cask. + +“Quick!” said a husky voice; “overhaul the cargo here!” + +I heard some half dozen troopers bustling about the hold and tugging out +the bales of wool. + +“Hi!” call'd Master Pottery: “an' when you've done rummaging my ship, +put everything back as you found it.” + +“Poke about with your swords,” commanded the husky voice. “What's in +those barrels yonder?” + +“Water, sergeant,” answers a trooper, rolling out a couple. + +“Nothing behind them?” + +“No; they're right against the side.” + +“Drop 'em then. Plague on this business! 'Tis my notion they're a mile +a-way, and Cap'n Stubbs no better than a fool to send us back here. He's +grudging promotion, that's what he is! Hurry, there--hurry!” + +Ten minutes later, the searchers were gone; and we in our casks drawing +long breaths of thankfulness and strong odors. And so we crouch'd +till, about midnight, Captain Billy brought us down a supper of ship's +biscuit: which we crept forth to eat, being sorely cramp'd. + +He could not hear our thanks: but guess'd them. + +“Now say not a word! To-morrow we sail for Plymouth Sound: thence for +Brittany. Hist! We be all King's men aboard the _Godsend_, tho' hearing +nought I says little. Yet I have my reasoning heresies, holding the +Lord's Anointed to be an anointed rogue, but nevertheless to be serv'd: +just as aboard the _Godsend_ I be Cap'n Billy an' you plain Jack, be +your virtues what they may. An' the conclusion is--damn all mutineers +an' rebels! Tho', to be sure, the words be a bit lusty for a young +gentlewoman's ears.” + +We went back to our casks with lighter hearts. Howbeit 'twas near five +in the morning, I dare say, before my narrow bedchamber allow'd me to +drop asleep. + +I woke to spy through my bunghole the faint light of day struggling down +the hatches. Above, I heard a clanking noise, and the voices of the men +hiccoughing a dismal chant. They were lifting anchor. I crawl'd forth +and woke Delia, who was yet sleeping: and together we ate the breakfast +that lay ready set for us on the head of a barrel. + +Presently the sailors broke off their song, and we heard their feet +shuffling to and fro on deck. + +“Sure,” cried Delia, “we are moving!” + +And surely we were, as could be told by the alter'd sound of the water +beneath us, and the many creakings that the _Godsend_ began to keep. +Once more I tasted freedom again, and the joy of living, and could have +sung for the mirth that lifted my heart. “Let us but gain open sea,” + said I, “and I'll have tit-for-tat with these rebels!” + +But alas! before we had left Avon mouth twenty minutes, 'twas another +tale. For I lay on my side in that dark hold and long'd to die: and +Delia sat up beside me, her hands in her lap, and her great eyes fix'd +most dolefully. And when Captain Billy came down with news that we were +safe and free to go on deck, we turn'd our faces from him, and said we +thank'd him kindly, but had no longer any wish that way--too wretched, +even, to remember his deafness. + +Let me avoid, then, some miserable hours, and come to the evening, when, +faint with fasting and nausea, we struggled up to the deck for air, and +look'd about us. + +'Twas grey--grey everywhere: the sky lead-colored, with deeper shades +toward the east, where a bank of cloud blotted the coast line: the +thick rain descending straight, with hardly wind enough to set the +sails flapping; the sea spread like a plate of lead, save only where, +to leeward, a streak of curded white crawled away from under the +_Godsend's_ keel. + +On deck, a few sailors mov'd about, red eyed and heavy. They show'd +no surprise to see us, but nodded very friendly, with a smile for our +strange complexions. Here again, as ever, did adversity mock her own +image. + +But what more took our attention was to see a row of men stretch'd on +the starboard side, like corpses, their heads in the scuppers, their +legs pointed inboard, and very orderly arranged. They were a dozen and +two in all, and over them bent Captain Billy with a mop in his hand, and +a bucket by his side: who beckon'd that we should approach. + +“Array'd in order o' merit,” said he, pointing with his mop like a +showman to the line of figures before him. + +We drew near. + +“This here is Matt. Soames, master o' this vessel--an' he's dead.” + +“Dead?” + +“Dead-drunk, that is. O the gifted man! Come up!” He thrust the mop in +the fellow's heavy face. “There now! Did he move, did he wink? 'No,' +says you. O an accomplished drunkard!” + +He paus'd a moment; then stirr'd up No. 2, who open'd one eye lazily, +and shut it again in slumber. + +“You saw? Open'd one eye, hey? That's Benjamin Halliday. The next is a +black man, as you see: a man of dismal color, and hath other drawbacks +natural to such. Can the Aethiop shift his skin? No, but he'll open both +eyes. See there--a perfect Christian, in so far as drink can make him.” + +With like comments he ran down the line till he came to the last man, in +front of whom he stepp'd back. + +“About this last--he's a puzzler. Times I put him top o' the list, an' +times at the tail. That's Ned Masters, an' was once the Reverend Edward +Masters, Bachelor o' Divinity in Cambridge College; but in a tavern +there fell a-talking with a certain Pelagian about Adam an' Eve, an' +because the fellow turn'd stubborn, put a knife into his waistband, an' +had to run away to sea: a middling drinker only, but after a quart or +so to hear him tackle Predestination! So there be times after all when +I sets'n apart, and says, 'Drunk, you'm no good, but half-drunk, you'm +priceless.' Now there's a man--” He dropp'd his mop, and, leading us +aft, pointed with admiring finger to the helmsman--a thin, wizen'd +fellow, with a face like a crab apple, and a pair of piercing grey eyes +half hidden by the droop of his wrinkled lids. “Gabriel Hutchins, how +old be you?” + +“Sixty-four, come next Martinmas,” pip'd the helmsman. + +“In what state o' life?” + +“Drunk.” + +“How drunk?” + +“As a lord!” + +“Canst stand upright?” + +“Hee-hee! Now could I iver do other?--a miserable ould worms to whom the +sweet effects o' quantums be denied. When was I iver wholesomely maz'd? +Or when did I lay my grey hairs on the floor, saying, 'Tis enough, an' +'tis good'? Answer me that, Cap'n Bill.” + +“But you hopes for the best, Gabriel.” + +“Aye, I hopes--I hopes.” + +The old man sigh'd as he brought the _Godsend_ a point nearer the wind; +and, as we turn'd away with the Captain, was still muttering, his sharp +grey eyes fix'd on the vessel's prow. + +“He's my best,” said Captain Billy Pottery. + +With this crew we pass'd four days; and I write this much of them +because they afterward, when sober, did me a notable good turn, as you +shall read toward the end of this history. But lest you should +judge them hardly, let me say here that when they recovered of their +stupor--as happen'd to the worst after thirty-six hours--there was no +brisker, handier set of fellows on the seas. And this Captain Billy well +understood: “but” (said he) “I be a collector an' a man o' conscience +both, which is uncommon. Doubtless there be good sots that are not good +seamen, but from such I turn my face, drink they never so prettily.” + +'Twas necessary I should impart some notion of my errand to Captain +Billy, tho' I confin'd myself to hints, telling him only 'twas urgent I +should be put ashore somewhere on the Cornish coast, for that I carried +intelligence which would not keep till we reached Plymouth, a town that, +besides, was held by the rebels. And he agreed readily to land me in +Bude Bay: “and also thy comrade, if (as I guess) she be so minded,” + he added, glancing up at Delia from the paper whereon I had written my +request. + +She had been silent of late, beyond her wont, avoiding (I thought) to +meet my eye: but answer'd simply, + +“I go with Jack.” + +Captain Billy, whose eyes rested on her as she spoke, beckon'd me, very +mysterious, outside the cabin, and winking slily, whisper'd loud enough +to stun one---- + +“Ply her, Jack”--he had call'd me “Jack” from the first--“ply her +briskly! Womankind is but yielding flesh: 'am an amorous man mysel', an' +speak but that I have prov'd.” + +On this--for the whole ship could hear it--there certainly came the +sound of a stifled laugh from the other side of the cabin door: but it +did not mend my comrade's shy humor, that lasted throughout the voyage. + +To be brief, 'twas not till the fourth afternoon (by reason of baffling +head winds) that we stepped out of the _Godsend's_ boat upon a small +beach of shingle, whence, between a rift in the black cliffs, wound up +the road that was to lead us inland. The _Godsend_, as we turn'd to wave +our hands, lay at half a mile's distance, and made a pretty sight: for +the day, that had begun with a white frost, was now turn'd sunny and +still, so that looking north we saw the sea all spread with pink and +lilac and hyacinth, and upon it the ship lit up, her masts and sails +glowing like a gold piece. And there was Billy, leaning over the +bulwarks and waving his trumpet for “Good-bye!” Thought I, for I little +dream'd to see these good fellows again, “what a witless game is this +life! to seek ever in fresh conjunctions what we leave behind in a hand +shake.” 'Twas a cheap reflection, yet it vex'd me that as we turn'd to +mount the road Delia should break out singing--- + +“Hey! nonni--nonni--no! Is't not fine to laugh and sing When the hells +of death do ring!--” + +“Why, no,” said I, “I don't think it”: and capp'd her verse with +another-- + +“Silly man, the cost to find Is to leave as good behind--” + +“Jack, for pity's sake, stop!” She put her fingers to her ears. “What a +nasty, creaking voice thou hast, to be sure!” + +“That's as a man may hold,” said I, nettled. + +“No, indeed: yours is a very poor voice, but mine is beautiful. So +listen.” + +She went on to sing as she went, “Green as grass is my kirtle,” “Tire me +in tiffany,” “Come ye bearded men-at-arms,” and “The Bending Rush.” All +these she sang, as I must confess, most delicately well, and then fac'd +me, with a happy smile--- + +“Now, have not I a sweet voice? Why, Jack--art still glum?” + +“Delia,” answer'd I, “you have first to give me a reply to what, four +days agone, I ask'd you. Dear girl--nay then, dear comrade--” + +I broke off, for she had come to a stop, wringing her hands and looking +in my face most dolefully. + +“Oh, dear--oh, dear! Jack, we have had such merry times: and you are +spoiling all the fun!” + +We follow'd the road after this very moodily; for Delia, whom I had +made sharer of the rebels' secret, agreed that no time was to be lost +in reaching Bodmin, that lay a good thirty miles to the southwest. Night +fell and the young moon rose, with a brisk breeze at our backs that kept +us still walking without any feeling of weariness. Captain Billy had +given me at parting a small compass, of new invention, that a man could +carry easily in his pocket; and this from time to time I examin'd in the +moonlight, guiding our way almost due south, in hopes of striking into +the main road westward. I doubt not we lost a deal of time among +the byways; but at length happen'd on a good road bearing south, and +follow'd it till daybreak, when to our satisfaction we spied a hill in +front, topp'd with a stout castle, and under it a town of importance, +that we guess'd to be Launceston. + +By this, my comrade and I were on the best of terms again; and now drew +up to consider if we should enter the town or avoid it to the west, +trusting to find a breakfast in some tavern on the way. Because we knew +not with certainty the temper of the country, it seem'd best to choose +this second course: so we fetch'd around by certain barren meadows, and +thought ourselves lucky to hit on a road that, by the size, must be the +one we sought, and a tavern with a wide yard before it and a carter's +van standing at the entrance, not three gunshots from the town walls. + +“Now Providence hath surely led us to breakfast,” said Delia, and +stepped before me into the yard, toward the door. + +I was following her when, inside of a gate to the right of the house, I +caught the gleam of steel, and turn'd aside to look. + +To my dismay there stood near a score of chargers in this second court, +saddled and dripping with sweat. My first thought was to run after +Delia; but a quick surprise made me rub my eyes with wonder--- + +'Twas the sight of a sorrel mare among them--a mare with one high white +stocking. In a thousand I could have told her for Molly. + +Three seconds after I was at the tavern door, and in my ears a voice +sounding that stopp'd me short and told me in one instant that without +God's help all was lost. + +'Twas the voice of Captain Settle speaking in the taproom; and already +Delia stood, past concealment, by the open door. + +“... And therefore, master carter, it grieves me to disappoint thee; +but no man goeth this day toward Bodmin. Such be my Lord of Stamford's +orders, whose servant I am, and as captain of this troop I am sent to +exact them. As they displease you, his lordship is but twenty-four hours +behind: you can abide him and complain. Doubtless he will hear--_ten +million devils!_” + +I heard his shout as he caught sight of Delia. I saw his crimson face as +he darted out and gripp'd her. I saw, or half saw, the troopers crowding +out after him. For a moment I hesitated. Then came my pretty comrade's +voice, shrill above the hubbub--- + +“Jack--they have horses outside! Leave me--I am ta'en--and ride, dear +lad--ride!” + +In a flash my decision was taken, for better or worse. I dash'd out +around the house, vaulted the gate, and catching at Molly's mane, leap'd +into the saddle. + +A dozen troopers were at the gate, and two had their pistols levell'd. + +“Surrender!” + +“Be hang'd if I do!” + +I set my teeth and put Molly at the low wall. As she rose like a bird in +air the two pistols rang out together, and a burning pain seem'd to tear +open my left shoulder. In a moment the mare alighted safe on the other +side, flinging me forward on her neck. But I scrambled back, and with a +shout that frighten'd my own ears, dug my heels into her flanks. + +Half a minute more and I was on the hard road, galloping westward for +dear life. So also were a score of rebel troopers. Twenty miles and more +lay before me; and a bare hundred yards was all my start. + +[Illustration: The two pistols rang out together.] + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND AM WELL TREATED THERE. + + +And now I did indeed abandon myself to despair. Few would have given a +groat for my life, with that crew at my heels; and I least of all, now +that my dear comrade was lost. The wound in my shoulder was bleeding +sore--I could feel the warm stream welling--yet not so sore as my heart. +And I pressed my knees into the saddle flap, and wondered what the end +would be. + +The sorrel mare was galloping, free and strong, her delicate ears laid +back, and the network of veins under her soft skin working with the +heave and fall of her withers: yet--by the mud and sweat about her--I +knew she must have travelled far before I mounted. I heard a shot or two +fired, far up the road: tho' their bullets must have fallen short: +at least, I heard none whiz past. But the rebels' shouting was clear +enough, and the thud of their gallop behind. + +I think that, for a mile or two, I must have ridden in a sort of swoon. +'Tis certain, not an inch of the road comes back to me: nor did I once +turn my head to look back, but sat with my eyes fastened stupidly on the +mare's neck. And by-and-bye, as we galloped, the smart of my wound, the +heartache, hurry, pounding of hoofs--all dropp'd to an enchanting lull. +I rode, and that was all. + +For, swoon or no, I was lifted off earth, as it seemed, and on easy +wings to an incredible height, where were no longer hedges, nor road, +nor country round; but a great stillness, and only the mare and I +running languidly through it. + +“Ride!” + +Now, at first, I thought 'twas someone speaking this in my ear, and +turn'd my head. But 'twas really the last word I had heard from Delia, +now after half an hour repeated in my brain. And as I grew aware of +this, the dullness fell off me, and all became very distinct. And the +muscles about my wound had stiffen'd--which was vilely painful: and the +country, I saw, was a brown, barren moor, dotted with peat-ricks: and I +cursed it. + +This did me good: for it woke the fighting-man in me, and I set my +teeth. Now for the first time looking back, I saw, with a great gulp of +joy, I had gained on the troopers. A long dip of the road lay between +me and the foremost, now topping the crest. The sun had broke through at +last, and sparkled on his cap and gorget. I whistled to Molly (I could +not pat her), and spoke to her softly: the sweet thing prick'd up +her ears, laid them back again, and mended her pace. Her stride was +beautiful to feel. + +I had yet no clear idea how to escape. In front the moors rose +gradually, swelling to the horizon line, and there broken into steep, +jagged heights. The road under me was sound white granite and stretch'd +away till lost among these fastnesses--in all of it no sign of man's +habitation. Be sure I look'd along it, and to right and left, dreading +to spy more troopers. But for mile on mile, all was desolate. + +Now and then I caught the cry of a pewit, or saw a snipe glance up from +his bed; but mainly I was busied about the mare. “Let us but gain the +ridge ahead,” thought I, “and there is a chance.” So I rode as light as +I could, husbanding her powers. + +She was going her best, but the best was near spent. The sweat was +oozing, her satin coat losing the gloss, the spume flying back from her +nostrils--“Soh!” I called to her: “Soh! my beauty; we ride to save an +army!” The loose stones flew right and left, as she reach'd out her +neck, and her breath came shorter and shorter. + +A mile, and another mile, we passed in this trim, and by the end of it +must have spent three-quarters of an hour at the work. Glancing back, I +saw the troopers scattered; far behind, but following. The heights were +still a weary way ahead: but I could mark their steep sides ribb'd +with boulders. Till these were passed, there was no chance to hide. The +parties in this race could see each other all the way, and must ride it +out. + +And all the way the ground kept rising. I had no means to ease the +mare, even by pulling off my heavy jack-boots, with one arm (and that my +right) dangling useless. Once she flung up her head and I caught sight +of her nostril, red as fire, and her poor eyes starting. I felt her +strength ebbing between my knees. Here and there she blundered in her +stride. And somewhere, over the ridge yonder, lay the Army of the West, +and we alone could save it. + +The road, for half a mile, now fetched a sudden loop, though the country +on either side was level enough. Had my head been cool, I must have +guessed a reason for this: but, you must remember, I had long been giddy +with pain and loss of blood--so, thinking to save time, I turned Molly +off the granite, and began to cut across. + +The short grass and heath being still frozen, we went fairly for the +first minute or so. But away behind us, I heard a shout--and it must +have been loud to reach me. I learn'd the meaning when, about two +hundred yards before we came on the road again, the mare's forelegs went +deep, and next minute we were plunging in a black peat-quag. + +Heaven can tell how we won through. It must have been still partly +frozen, and perhaps we were only on the edge of it. I only know that as +we scrambled up on solid ground, plastered and breathless, I looked at +the wintry sun, the waste, and the tall hill tow'ring to the right of +us, and thought it a strange place to die in. + +For the struggle had burst open my wound again, and the blood was +running down my arm and off my fingers in a stream. And now I could +count every gorsebush, every stone--and now I saw nothing at all. And +I heard the tinkling of bells: and then found a tune running in my +head--'twas “Tire me in tiffany,” and I tried to think where last I +heard it. + +But sweet gallant Molly must have held on: for the next thing I woke up +to was a four-hol'd cross beside the road: and soon after we were over +the ridge and clattering down hill. + +A rough tor had risen full in front, but the road swerved to the left +and took us down among the spurs of it. Now was my last lookout. I tried +to sway less heavily in the saddle, and with my eyes searched the plain +at our feet. + +Alas! Beneath us the waste land was spread, mile upon mile: and I +groaned aloud. For just below I noted a clump of roofless cabins, and +beyond, upon the moors, the dotted walls of sheep-cotes, ruined also: +but in all the sad-color'd leagues no living man, nor the sign of one. +It was done with us. I reined up the mare--and then, in the same motion, +wheeled her sharp to the right. + +High above, on the hillside, a voice was calling. + +I look'd up. Below the steeper ridge of the tor a patch of land had been +cleared for tillage: and here a yoke of oxen was moving leisurely before +a plough ['twas their tinkling bells I had heard, just now); while +behind followed the wildest shape--by the voice, a woman. + +She was not calling to me, but to her team: and as I put Molly at the +slope, her chant rose and fell in the mournfullest singsong. + +“So-hoa! Oop Comely Vean! oop, then--o-oop!” + +I rose in my stirrups and shouted. + +At this and the sound of hoofs, she stay'd the plough and, hand on hip, +looked down the slope. The oxen, softly rattling the chains on their +yoke, turn'd their necks and gazed. With sunk head Molly heaved herself +up the last few yards and came to a halt with a stagger. I slipp'd out +of the saddle and stood, with a hand on it, swaying. + +“What's thy need, young man--that comest down to Temple wi' sword +a-danglin'?” + +The girl was a half-naked savage, dress'd only in a strip of sacking +that barely reach'd her knees, and a scant bodice of the same, lac'd in +front with pack thread, that left her bosom and brown arms free. Yet she +appear'd no whit abash'd, but lean'd on the plough-tail and regarded me, +easy and frank, as a man would. + +“Sell me a horse,” I blurted out: “Twenty guineas will I give for +one within five minutes, and more if he be good! I ride on the King's +errand.” + +“Then get thee back to thy master, an' say, no horse shall he have o' +me--nor any man that uses horseflesh so.” She pointed to Molly's knees, +that were bow'd and shaking, and the bloody froth dripping from her +mouth. + +“Girl, for God's sake sell me a horse! They are after me, and I am +hurt.” I pointed up the road. “Better than I are concerned in this.” + +“God nor King know I, young man. But what's on thy saddle cloth, there?” + +'Twas the smear where my blood had soak'd: and looking and seeing +the purple mess cak'd with mud and foam on the sorrel's flank, I felt +suddenly very sick. The girl made a step to me. + +“Sell thee a horse? Hire thee a bedman, more like. Nay, then, lad--” + +But I saw her no longer: only called “oh-oh!” twice, like a little +child, and slipping my hold of the saddle, dropp'd forward on her +breast. + + * * * * * * * + +Waking, I found myself in darkness--not like that of night, but of a +room where the lights have gone out: and felt that I was dying. But +this hardly seem'd a thing to be minded. There was a smell of peat and +bracken about. Presently I heard the tramp of feet somewhere overhead, +and a dull sound of voices that appear'd to be cursing. + +The footsteps went to and fro, the voices muttering most of the time. +After a bit I caught a word--“Witchcraft”: and then a voice speaking +quite close--“There's blood 'pon her hands, an' there's blood yonder +by the plough.” Said another voice, higher and squeaky, “there's scent +behind a fox, but you don't dig it up an' take it home.” The tramp +passed on, and the voices died away. + +By this I knew the troopers were close, and seeking me. A foolish +thought came that I was buried, and they must be rummaging over my +grave: but indeed I had no wish to enquire into it; no wish to move +even, but just to lie and enjoy the lightness of my limbs. The blood was +still running. I felt the warmth of it against my back: and thought it +very pleasant. So I shut my eyes and dropp'd off again. + +Then I heard the noise of shouting, far away: and a long while after +that, was rous'd by the touch of a hand, thrust in against my naked +breast, over my heart. + +“Who is it?” I whispered. + +“Joan,” answered a voice, and the hand was withdrawn. + +The darkness had lifted somewhat, and though something stood between me +and the light, I mark'd a number of small specks, like points of gold +dotted around me-- + +“Joan--what besides?” + +“Joan's enough, I reckon: lucky for thee 'tis none else. Joan o' the Tor +folks call me, but may jet be Joan i' Good Time. So hold thy peace, lad, +an' cry out so little as may be.” + +I felt a ripping of my jacket sleeve and shirt, now clotted and stuck to +the flesh. It pain'd cruelly, but I shut my teeth: and after that came +the smart and delicious ache of water, as she rinsed the wound. + +“Clean through the flesh, lad:--in an' out, like country dancin'. No +bullet to probe nor bone to set. Heart up, soce! Thy mother shall kiss +thee yet. What's thy name?” + +“Marvel, Joan--Jack Marvel.” + +“An' marvel 'tis thou'rt Marvel yet. Good blood there's in thee, but +little enow.” + +She bandaged the sore with linen torn from my shirt, and tied it round +with sackcloth from her own dress. 'Twas all most gently done: and then +I found her arms under me, and myself lifted as easy as a baby. + +“Left arm round my neck, Jack: an' sing out if 'tis hurtin' thee.” + +It seemed but six steps and we were out on the bright hillside, not +fifty paces from where the plough yet stood in the furrow. I caught a +glimpse of a brown neck and a pair of firm red lips, of the grey tor +stretching above us and, further aloft, a flock of field fare hanging in +the pale sky; and then shut my eyes for the dazzle: but could still +feel the beat of Joan's heart as she held me close, and the touch of her +breath on my forehead. + +Down the hill she carried me, picking the softest turf, and moving +with an easeful swing that rather lull'd my hurt than jolted it. I was +dozing, even, when a strange noise awoke me. + +'Twas a high protracted note, that seem'd at first to swell up toward +us, and then broke off in half a dozen or more sharp yells. Joan took no +heed of them, but seeing my eyes unclose, and hearing me moan, stopped +short. + +“Hurts thee, lad?” + +“No.” 'Twas not my pain but the sight of the sinking sun that wrung the +exclamation from me--“I was thinking,” I muttered. + +“Don't: 'tis bad for health. But bide thee still a-while, and shalt lie +'pon a soft bed.” + +By this time, we had come down to the road: and the yells were still +going on, louder than ever. We cross'd the road, descended another +slope, and came all at once on a low pile of buildings that a moment +before had been hid. 'Twas but three hovels of mud, stuck together in +the shape of a headless cross, the main arm pointing out toward the +moor. Around the whole ran a battered wall, patched with furs; and from +this dwelling the screams were issuing-- + +“Joan!” the voice began, “Joan--Jan Tergagle's a-clawin' my +legs--Gar-rout, thou hell cat--Blast thee, let me zog! Pull'n off +Joan--Jo-an!” + +The voice died away into a wail; then broke out in a racket of curses. +Joan stepped to the door and flung it wide. As my eyes grew used to the +gloom inside, they saw this:-- + +A rude kitchen--the furniture but two rickety chairs, now toss'd on +their faces, an oak table, with legs sunk into the earth, a keg of +strong waters, tilted over and draining upon the mud floor, a ladder +leading up to a loft, and in two of the corners a few bundles of bracken +strewn for bedding. To the left, as one entered, was an open hearth; +but the glowing peat-turves were now pitch'd to right and left over the +hearthstone and about the floor, where they rested, filling the den with +smoke. Under one of the chairs a black cat spat and bristled: while in +the middle of the room, barefooted in the embers, crouched a man. He was +half naked, old and bent, with matted grey hair and beard hanging +almost to his waist. His chest and legs were bleeding from a score of +scratches; and he pointed at the cat, opening and shutting his mouth +like a dog, and barking out curse upon curse. + +No way upset, Joan stepped across the kitchen, laid me on one of the +bracken beds, and explain'd-- + +“That's feyther: he's drunk.” + +With which she turn'd, dealt the old man a cuff that stretch'd him +senseless, and gathering up the turves, piled them afresh on the hearth. +This done, she took the keg and gave me a drink of it. The stuff scalded +me, but I thanked her. And then, when she had shifted my bed a bit, to +ease the pain of lying, she righted a chair, drew it up and sat beside +me. The old man lay like a log where he had fallen, and was now snoring. +Presently, the fumes of the liquor, or mere faintness, mastered me, and +my eyes closed. But the picture they closed upon was that of Joan, as +she lean'd forward, chin on hand, with the glow of the fire on her brown +skin and in the depths of her dark eyes. + +[Illustration: Joan] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK DOWN. + + +But the pain of my hurt followed into my dreams. I woke with a start, +and tried to sit up. + +Within the kitchen all was quiet. The old savage was still stretch'd on +the floor: the cat curled upon the hearth. The girl had not stirr'd: but +looking toward the window hole, I saw night out side, and a frosty star +sparkling far down in the west. + +“Joan, what's the hour?” + +“Sun's been down these four hours.” She turned her face to look at me. + +“I've no business lying here.” + +“Chose to come, lad: none axed thee, that _I_ knows by.” + +“Where's the mare? Must set me across her back, Joan, and let me ride +on.” + +“Mare's in stable, wi' fetlocks swelled like puddens. Chose to come, +lad; an' choose or no, must bide.” + +“'Tis for the General Hopton, at Bodmin, I am bound, Joan; and wound or +no, must win there this night.” + +“And that's seven mile away: wi' a bullet in thy skull, and a peat quag +thy burial. For _they_ went south, and thy road lieth more south than +west.” + +“The troopers?” + +“Aye, Jack: an' work I had this day wi' those same bloody warriors: but +take a sup at the keg, and bite this manchet of oat cake while I tell +thee.” + +And so, having fed me, and set my bed straight, she sat on the floor +beside me (for the better hearing), and in her uncouth tongue, told how +I had been saved. I cannot write her language; but the tale, in sum, was +this:-- + +When I dropp'd forward into her arms, Joan for a moment was taken aback, +thinking me dead. But (to quote her) “'no good,' said I, 'in cuddlin' a +lad 'pon the hillside, for folks to see, tho' he _have_ a-got curls like +a wench: an' dead or 'live, no use to wait for others to make sure.'” + +So she lifted and carried me to a spot hard by, that she called the +“Jew's Kitchen;” and where that was, even with such bearings as I had, +she defied me to discover. There was no time to tend me, whilst Molly +stood near to show my whereabouts: so she let me lie, and went to lead +the sorrel down to stable. + +Her hand was on the bridle when she heard a _Whoop!_ up the road; and +there were half a dozen riders on the crest, and tearing down hill +toward her. Joan had nothing left but to feign coolness, and went on +leading the mare down the slope. + +In a while, up comes the foremost trooper, draws rein, and pants out +“Where's he to?” + +“Who?” asks Joan, making out to be surprised. + +“Why, the lad whose mare thou'rt leadin'?” + +“Mile an' half away by now.” + +“How's that?” + +“Freshly horsed,” explains Joan. + +The troopers--they were all around her by this--swore 'twas a lie; but +luckily, being down in the hollow, could not see over the next ridge. +They began a string of questions all together: but at last a little tun +bellied sergeant call'd “Silence!” and asked the girl, “did she loan the +fellow a horse?” + +Here I will quote her again:-- + +“'Sir, to thee,' I answer'd, 'no loan at all, but fair swap for our Grey +Robin.' + +“'That's a lie,' he says; 'an' I won't believe thee.' + +“'Might so well,' says I; 'but go to stable, an' see for thysel' +(Never had grey horse to my name, Jack; but, thinks I, that's _his'n_ +lookout.)” + +They went, did these simple troopers, to look at the stable, and sure +enough, there was no Grey Robin. Nevertheless, some amongst them had +logic enough to take this as something less than proof convincing, and +spent three hours and more ransacking the house and barn, and searching +the tor and the moors below it. I learn'd too, that Joan had come in for +some rough talk--to which she put a stop, as she told me, by offering +to fight any man Jack of them for the buttons on his buffcoat. And at +length, about sundown, they gave up the hunt, and road away over the +moors toward Warleggan, having (as the girl heard them say) to be at +Braddock before night. + +“Where is this Braddock?” + +“Nigh to Lord Mohun's house at Boconnoc: seven mile away to the south, +and seven mile or so from Bodmin, as a crow flies.” + +“Then go I must,” cried I: and hereupon I broke out with all the +trouble that was on my mind, and the instant need to save these gallant +gentlemen of Cornwall, ere two armies should combine against them. +I told of the King's letter in my breast, and how I found the Lord +Stamford's men at Launceston; how that Ruthen, with the vanguard of the +rebels, was now at Liskeard, with but a bare day's march between the +two, and none but I to carry the warning. And “Oh, Joan!” I cried, “my +comrade I left upon the road. Brighter courage and truer heart never +man proved, and yet left by me in the rebels' hands. Alas! that I could +neither save nor help, but must still ride on: and here is the issue--to +lie struck down within ten mile of my goal--I, that have traveled two +hundred. And if the Cornishmen be not warned to give fight before Lord +Stamford come up, all's lost. Even now they be outnumber'd. So lift me, +Joan, and set me astride Molly, and I'll win to Bodmin yet.” + +“Reckon, Jack, thou'd best hand _me_ thy letter.” + +Now, I did not at once catch the intent of these words, so simply +spoken; but stared at her like an owl. + +“There's horse in stall, lad,” she went on, “tho' no Grey Robin. +Tearaway's the name, and strawberry the color.” + +“But, Joan, Joan, if you do this--feel inside my coat here, to the +left--you will save an army, girl, maybe a throne! Here 'tis, Joan, +see--no, not that--here! Say the seal is that of the Governor of +Bristol, who stole it from me for a while: but the handwriting will be +known for the King's: and no hand but yours must touch it till you stand +before Sir Ralph Hopton. The King shall thank you, Joan; and God will +bless you for't.” + +“Hope so, I'm sure. But larn me what to say, lad: for I be main thick +witted.” + +So I told her the message over and over, till she had it by heart. + +“Shan't forgit, now,” she said, at length; “an' so hearken to me for a +change. Bide still, nor fret thysel'. Here's pasty an' oat cake, an' a +keg o' water that I'll stow beside thee. Pay no heed to feyther, an' if +he wills to get drunk an' fight wi' Jan Tergagle--that's the cat--why +let'n. Drunk or sober, he's no 'count.” + +She hid the letter in her bosom, and stepp'd to the door. On the +threshold she turned-- + +“Jack--forgot to ax: what be all this bloodshed about?” + +“For Church and King, Joan.” + +“H'm: same knowledge ha' I o' both--an' that's naught. But I dearly +loves fair play.” + +She was gone. In a minute or so I heard the trampling of a horse: and +then, with a scurry of hoofs, Joan was off on the King's errand, and +riding into the darkness. + +Little rest had I that night; but lay awake on my bracken bed and +watched the burning peat-turves turn to grey, and drop, flake by flake, +till only a glowing point remained. The door rattled now and then on the +hinge: out on the moor the light winds kept a noise persistent as town +dogs at midnight: and all the while my wound was stabbing, and the +bracken pricking me till I groaned aloud. + +As day began to break, the old man picked himself up, yawned and lounged +out, returning after a time with fresh turves for the hearth. He noticed +me no more than a stone, but when the fire was restack'd, drew up his +chair to the warmth, and breakfasted on oat cake and a liberal deal of +liquor. Observing him, the black cat uncoil'd, stretch'd himself, +and climbing to his master's knee, sat there purring, and the best of +friends. I also judged it time to breakfast: found my store: took a +bite or two, and a pull at the keg, and lay back--this time to sleep. + +When I woke, 'twas high noon. The door stood open, and outside on the +wall the winter sunshine was lying, very bright and clear. Indoors, the +old savage had been drinking steadily; and still sat before the fire, +with the cat on one knee, and his keg on the other. I sat up and +strain'd my ears. Surely, if Joan had not failed, the royal generals +would march out and give battle at once: and surely, if they were +fighting, not ten miles away, some sound of it would reach me. But +beyond the purring of the cat, I heard nothing. + +I crawl'd to my feet, rested a moment to stay the giddiness, and +totter'd across to the door, where I lean'd, listening and gazing south. +No strip of vapor lay on the moors that stretch'd--all bathed in the +most wonderful bright colors--to the lip of the horizon. The air was +like a sounding board. I heard the bleat of an old wether, a mile off, +upon the tors; and was turning away dejected, when, far down in the +south, there ran a sound that set my heart leaping. + +'Twas the crackling of musketry. + +There was no mistaking it. The noise ran like wildfire along the hills: +before echo could overtake it, a low rumbling followed, and then the +brisker crackling again. I caught at the door post and cried, faint with +the sudden joy--- + +“Thou angel, Joan!--thou angel!” + +And then, as something took me by the throat--“Joan, Joan--to see what +thou seest!” + +A long time I lean'd by the door post there, drinking in the sound that +now was renewed at quicker intervals. Yet, for as far as I could see, +'twas the peacefullest scene, though dreary--quiet sunshine on the +hills, and the sheep dotted here and there, cropping. But down yonder, +over the edge of the moors, men were fighting and murdering each other: +and I yearn'd to see how the day went. + +Being both weak and loth to miss a sound of it, I sank down on the +threshold, and there lay, with my eyes turned southward, through a gap +in the stone fence. In a while the musketry died away, and I wondered: +but thought I could still at times mark a low sound as of men shouting, +and this, as I learn'd after, was the true battle. + +It must have been an hour or more before I saw a number of black specks +coming over the ridge of hills, and swarming down into the plain toward +me: and then a denser body following. 'Twas a company of horse, moving +at a great pace: and I guessed that the battle was done, and these were +the first fugitives of the beaten army. + +On they came, in great disorder, scattering as they advanced: and now, +in parts, the hill behind was black with footmen, running. 'Twas a rout, +sure enough. Once or twice, on the heights, I beard a bugle blown, as if +to rally the crowd: but saw nothing come of it, and presently the notes +ceased, or I forgot to listen. + +The foremost company of horse was heading rather to the eastward of +me, to gain the high road; and the gross pass'd me by at half a mile's +distance. But some came nearer, and to my extreme joy, I learn'd from +their arms and shouting, what till now I had been eagerly hoping, that +'twas the rebel army thus running in rout: and tho' now without strength +to kneel, I had enough left to thank God heartily. + +'Twas so curious to see the plain thus suddenly fill'd with rabble, +all running from the south, and the silly startled sheep rushing +helter-skelter, and huddling together on the tors above, that I forgot +my own likely danger if any of this revengeful crew should come upon me +lying there: and was satisfied to watch them as they straggled over the +moors toward the road. Some pass'd close to the cottage; but none seem'd +anxious to pause there. 'Twas a glad and a sorry sight. I saw a troop of +dragoons with a standard in their midst; and a drummer running behind, +too far distracted even to cast his drum away, so that it dangled +against his back, with a great rent where the music had been; and then +two troopers running together; and one that was wounded lay down for a +while within a stone's throw of me, and would not go further, till at +last his comrade persuaded him; and after them a larger company, in +midst of whom was a man crying, “We are sold, I tell ye, and I can point +to the man!” and so passed by. There were some, too, that were galloping +three stout horses in a carriage, and upon it a brass twelve pounder. +But the carriage stuck fast in a quag, and so they cut the traces and +left it there, where, two days after, Sir John Berkeley's dragoons found +and pulled it out. And this was the fourth, I had heard, that the King's +troops took in that victory. + +Yet there were not above five or six hundred in all that I saw; and I +guessed (as was the case) that this must be but an off-shoot, so to say, +of the bigger rout that pass'd eastward through Liskeard. I was thinking +of this when I heard footsteps near, and a man came panting through a +gap in the wall, into the yard. + +He was a big, bareheaded fellow, exceedingly flush'd with running, but +unhurt, as far as I could see. Indeed, he might easily have kill'd me, +and for a moment I thought sure he would. But catching sight of me, +he nodded very friendly, and sitting on a heap of stones a yard or two +away, began to draw off his boot, and search for a prickle, that it +seem'd had got into it. + +“'Tis a mess of it, yonder,” said he, quietly, and jerk'd his thumb over +his shoulder. + +By the look of me, he could tell I was on the other side; but this did +not appear to concern him. + +“How has it gone?” asked I. + +“Well,” says he, with his nose in the boot; “we had a pretty rising +ground, and the Cornishmen march'd up and whipp'd us out--that's +all--and took a mort o' prisoners.” He found the prickle, drew on his +boot again, and asked--- + +“T'other side?” + +I nodded. + +“That's the laughing side, this day. Good evening.” + +And with that he went off as fast as he came. + +'Twas, may be, an hour after, that another came in through the same +gap: this time a lean, hawk-eyed man, with a pinch'd face and two ugly +gashes--one across the brow from left eye to the roots of his hair, the +other in his leg below the knee, that had sliced through boot and flesh +like a scythe-cut. His face was smear'd with blood, and he carried a +musket. + +“Water!” he bark'd out as he came trailing into the yard. “Give me +water--I'm a dead man!” + +He was stepping over me to enter the kitchen, when he halted and said--- + +“Art a malignant, for certain!” + +And before I had a chance to reply, his musket was swung up, and I felt +my time was come to die. + +But now the old savage, that had been sitting all day before his fire, +without so much as a sign to show if he noticed aught that was passing, +jump'd up with a yell and leap'd toward us. He and the cat were on the +poor wretch together, tearing and clawing. I can hear their hellish +outcries to this day: but at the moment they turn'd me faint. And the +next thing I recall is being dragged inside by the old man, who shut the +door after me and slipp'd the bolt, leaving the wounded trooper on the +other side. He beat against it for some time, sobbing piteously for +water: and then I heard him groaning at intervals, till he died. At +least, the groans ceased; and next day he was found with his back +against the cottage wall, stark and dead. + +Having pulled me inside, Joan's father must have thought he had done +enough: for on the floor I lay for hours, and passed from one swoon into +another. He and the cat had gone back to the fire again, and long before +evening both were sound asleep. + +So there I lay helpless, till, at nightfall, there came the trampling of +a horse outside, and then a rap on the door. The old man started up and +opened it: and in rushed Joan, her eyes lit up, her breast heaving, and +in her hand a naked sword. + +“Church and King, Jack!” she cried, and flung the blade with a clang on +to the table. “Church and King! O brave day's work, lad--O bloody work +this day!” + +And I swooned again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL +TINGCOMB. + + +There had, indeed, been brave work on Braddock Down that 19th of +January. For Sir Ralph Hopton with the Cornish grandees had made short +business of Ruthen's army--driving it headlong back on Liskeard at the +first charge, chasing it through that town, and taking 1,200 prisoners +(including Sir Shilston Calmady), together with many colors, all the +rebel ordnance and ammunition, and most of their arms. At Liskeard, +after refreshing their men, and holding next day a solemn thanksgiving +to God, they divided--the Lord Mohun with Sir Ralph Hopton and Colonel +Godolphin marching with the greater part of the army upon Saltash, +whither Ruthen had fled and was entrenching himself; while Sir John +Berkeley and Colonel Ashburnham, with a small party of horse and +dragoons and the voluntary regiments of Sir Bevill Grenville, Sir +Nich. Slanning, and Colonel Trevanion, turned to the northeast, toward +Launceston and Tavistock, to see what account they might render of the +Earl of Stamford's army; that, however, had no stomach to await them, +but posted out of the county into Plymouth and Exeter. + +'Twas on this expedition that two or three of the captains I have +mentioned halted for an hour or more at Temple, as well to recognize +Joan's extreme meritorious service, as to thank me for the part I had +in bringing news of the Earl of Stamford's advance. For 'twas this, they +own'd, had saved them--the King's message being but an exhortation +and an advertisement upon some lesser matters, the most of which were +already taken out of human hands by the turn of events. + +But though, as I learn'd, these gentlemen were full of compliments and +professions of esteem, I neither saw nor heard them, being by this time +delirious of a high fever that followed my wound. And not till three +good weeks after, was I recover'd enough to leave my bed, nor, for many +more, did my full strength return to me. No mother could have made a +tenderer nurse than was Joan throughout this time. 'Tis to her I owe it +that I am alive to write these words: and if the tears scald my eyes as +I do so, you will pardon them, I promise, before the end of my tail is +reach'd. + +In the first days of my recovery, news came to us (I forget how) that +a solemn sacrament had been taken between the parties in Devon and +Cornwall, and the country was a peace. Little I cared, at the time: but +was content--now spring was come--to loiter about the tors, and while +watching Joan at her work, to think upon Delia. For, albeit I had little +hope to see her again, my late pretty comrade held my thoughts the day +long. I shared them with nobody: for tho' 'tis probable I had let some +words fall in my delirium, Joan never hinted at this, and I never found +out. + +To Joan's company I was left: for her father, after saving my life that +afternoon, took no further notice of me by word or deed; and the cat, +Jan Tergagle (nam'd after a spirit that was said to haunt the moors +hereabouts), was as indifferent. So with Joan I passed the days idly, +tending the sheep, or waiting on her as she ploughed, or lying full +length on the hillside and talking with her of war and battles. 'Twas +the one topic on which she was curious (scoffing at me when I offered to +teach her to read print), and for hours she would listen to stories +of Alexander and Hannibal, Caesar and Joan of Arc, and other great +commanders whose history I remember'd. + +One evening--'twas early in May--we had climb'd to the top of the +grey tor above Temple, whence we could spy the white sails of the two +Channels moving, and, stretch'd upon the short turf there, I was telling +my usual tale. Joan lay beside me, her chin propp'd on one earth-stain'd +hand, her great solemn eyes wide open as she listened. Till that moment +I had regarded her rather as a man comrade than a girl, but now some +feminine trick of gesture awoke me perhaps, for my fancy began to +contrast her with Delia, and I broke off my story and sigh'd. + +“Art longing to be hence?” she asked. + +I felt ashamed to be thus caught, and was silent. She look'd at me and +went on-- + +“Speak out, lad.” + +“Loth would I be to leave you, Joan.” + +“And why?” + +“Why, we are good friends, I hope: and I am grateful.” + +“Oh, aye--wish thee'd learn to speak the truth, Jack. Art longing to be +hence, and shalt--soon.” + +“Why, Joan, you would not have me dwell here always?” + +She made no answer for a while, and then with a change of tone-- + +“Shalt ride wi' me to Bodmin Fair to-morrow for a treat, an' see the +Great Turk and the Fat 'Ooman and hocus-pocus. So tell me more 'bout +Joan the Frenchwoman.” + +On the morrow, about nine in the morning, we set off--Joan on the +strawberry, balanced easily on an old sack, which was all her saddle; +and I on Molly, that now was sound again and chafing to be so idle. As +we set out, Joan's father for the first time took some notice of me, +standing at the door to see us off and shouting after us to bring home +some account of the wrestling. Looking back at a quarter mile's distance +I saw him still fram'd in the doorway, with the cat perch'd on his +shoulder. + +Bodmin town is naught but a narrow street, near on a mile long, and +widening toward the western end. It lies mainly along the south side of +a steep vale, and this May morning as Joan and I left the moors and rode +down to it from northward, already we could hear trumpets blowing, the +big drum sounding, and all the bawling voices and hubbub of the fair. +Descending, we found the long street lin'd with booths and shows, and +nigh blocked with the crowd: for the revel began early and was now in +full swing. And the crew of gipsies, whifflers, mountebanks, fortune +tellers, cut-purses and quacks, mix'd up with honest country faces, beat +even the rabble I had seen at Wantage. + +Now my own first business was with a tailor: for the clothes I wore +when I rode into Temple, four months back, had been so sadly messed with +blood, and afterward cut, to free them from my wound, that now all the +tunic I wore was of sackcloth, contrived and stitch'd together by Joan. +So I made at once for a decent shop, where luckily I found a suit to +fit me, one taken (the tailor said) off a very promising young gentleman +that had the misfortune to be kill'd on Braddock Down. Arrayed in this, +I felt myself again, and offered to take Joan to see the Fat Woman. + +We saw her, and the Aethiop, and the Rhinoceros (which put me in mind +of poor Anthony Killigrew), and the Pig-fac'd Baby, and the Cudgel play; +and presently halted before a Cheap Jack, that was crying his wares in a +prodigious loud voice, near the town wall. + +'Twas a meagre, sharp-visag'd fellow with a grey chin beard like a billy +goat's; and (as fortune would have it) spying our approach, he +picked out a mirror from his stock and holding it aloft, addressed us +straight-- + +“What have we here,” cries he, “but a pair o' lovers coming? and what +i' my hand but a lover's hourglass? Sure the stars of heav'n must have a +hand in this conjuncture--and only thirteen pence, my pretty fellow, for +a glass that will tell the weather i' your sweetheart's face, and help +make it fine.” + +There were many country fellows with their maids in the crowd, that +turned their heads at this address; and as usual the women began. + +“Tis Joan o' the Tor!” + +“Joan's picked up wi' a sweetheart--tee-hee!--an' us reckoned her'd +forsworn mankind!” + +“Who is he?” + +“Some furriner, sure: that likes garlic.” + +“He's bought her no ribbons yet.” + +“How should he, poor lad; that can find no garments upon her to fasten +'em to?” + +And so on, with a deal of spiteful laughter. Some of these sayings +were half truth, no doubt: but the truthfullest word may be infelix. +So noting a dark flush on Joan's cheek, I thought to end the scene by +taking the Cheap Jack's mirror on the spot, to stop his tongue, and then +drawing her away. + +But in this I was a moment too late; for just as I reached up my hand +with the thirteen pence, and the grinning fellow on the platform bent +forward with his mirror, I heard a coarser jest, a rush in the crowd, +and two heads go _crack!_ together like eggs. 'Twas two of Joan's +tormentors she had taken by the hair and served so: and dropping them +the next instant had caught the Cheap Jack's beard, as you might a bell +rope, and wrench'd him head-foremost off his stand, my thirteen pence +flying far and wide. Plump he fell into the crowd, that scatter'd on all +hands as Joan pummelled him: and _whack, whack!_ fell the blows on the +poor idiot's face, who scream'd for mercy, as though Judgment Day were +come. + +No one, for the minute, dared to step between them: and presently Joan +looking up, with arm raised for another buffet, spied a poor Astrologer +close by, in a red and yellow gown, that had been reading fortunes in a +tub of black water beside him, but was now broken off, dismayed at the +hubbub. To this tub she dragged the Cheap Jack and sent him into it with +a round souse. The black water splashed right and left over the crowd. +Then, her wrath sated, Joan faced the rest, with hands on hips, and +waited for them to come on. + +Not a word had she spoken, from first to last: but stood now with hot +cheeks and bosom heaving. Then, finding none to take up her challenge, +she strode out through the folk, and I after her, with the mirror in my +hand; while the Cheap Jack picked himself out of the tub, whining, and +the Astrologer wip'd his long white beard and soil'd robe. + +Outside the throng was a carriage, stopp'd for a minute by this tumult, +and a servant at the horses' heads. By the look of it, 'twas the coach +of some person of quality; and glancing at it I saw inside an old +gentleman with a grave venerable face, seated. For the moment it flash'd +on me I had seen him before, somewhere: and cudgell'd my wits to +think where it had been. But a second and longer gaze assured me I was +mistaken, and I went on down the street after Joan. + +She was walking fast and angry; nor when I caught her up and tried to +soothe, would she answer me but in the shortest words. Woman's justice, +as I had just learn'd, has this small defect--it goes straight enough, +but mainly for the wrong object. Which now I proved in my own case. + +“Where are you going, Joan?” + +“To 'Fifteen Balls'' stable, for my horse.” + +“Art not leaving the fair yet, surely!” + +“That I be, tho'. Have had fairing enow--wi' a man!” + +Nor for a great part of the way home would she speak to me. But meeting, +by Pound Scawens (a hamlet close to the road), with some friends going +to the fair, she stopp'd for a while to chat with them, whilst I rode +forward: and when she overtook me, her brow was clear again. + +“Am a hot headed fool, Jack, and have spoil'd thy day for thee.” + +“Nay, that you have not,” said I, heartily glad to see her humble, for +the first time in our acquaintance: “but if you have forgiven me that +which I could not help, you shall take this that I bought for you, in +proof.” + +And pulling out the mirror, I lean'd over and handed it to her. + +“What i' the world be this?” she ask'd, taking and looking at it +doubtfully. + +“Why, a mirror.” + +“What's that?” + +“A glass to see your face in,” I explained. + +“Be this my face?” She rode forward, holding up the glass in front +of her. “Why, what a handsome looking gal I be, to be sure! Jack, art +certain 'tis my very own face?” + +“To be sure,” said I amazed. + +“Well!” There was silence for a full minute, save for our horses' tread +on the high road. And then-- + +“Jack, I be powerful dirty!” + +This was true enough, and it made me laugh. She looked up solemnly at my +mirth (having no sense of a joke, then or ever) and bent forward to the +glass again. + +“By the way,” said I, “did you mark a carriage just outside the crowd, +by the Cheap Jack's booth?--with a white-hair'd gentleman seated +inside?” + +Joan nodded. “Master Hannibal Tingcomb: steward o' Gleys.” + +“What!” + +I jumped in my saddle, and with a pull at the bridle brought Molly to a +standstill. + +“Of Gleys?” I cried. “Steward of Sir Deakin Killigrew that was?” + +“Right, lad, except the last word. 'That _is_,' should'st rather say.” + +“Then you are wrong, Joan: for he's dead and buried, these five months. +Where is this house of Gleys? for to-morrow I must ride there.” + +“'Tis easy found, then: for it stands on the south coast yonder, and +no house near it: five mile from anywhere, and sixteen from Temple, due +south. Shall want thee afore thou startest, Jack. Dear, now! who'd ha' +thought I was so dirty?” + +The cottage door stood open as we rode into the yard, and from it a +faint smoke came curling, with a smell of peat. Within I found the +smould'ring turves scattered about as on the day of my first arrival, +and among them Joan's father stretch'd, flat on his face: only this time +the eat was curl'd up quietly, and lying between the old man's shoulder +blades. + +“Drunk again,” said Joan shortly. + +But looking more narrowly, I marked a purplish stain on the ground by +the old man's mouth, and turned him softly over. + +“Joan,” said I, “he's not drunk--he's dead!” + +She stood above us and looked down, first at the corpse, then at me, +without speaking for a time: at last--- + +“Then I reckon he may so well be buried.” + +“Girl,” I call'd out, being shocked at this callousness, “'tis your +father--and he is dead!” + +“Why that's so, lad. An he were alive, shouldn't trouble thee to bury +'n.” + +And so, before night, we carried him up to the bleak tor side, and dug +his grave there; the black cat following us to look. Five feet deep we +laid him, having dug down to solid rock; and having covered him over, +went silently back to the hovel. Joan had not shed a single tear. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS. + + +Very early next morning I awoke, and hearing no sound in the loft above +(whither, since my coming, Joan had carried her bed), concluded her to +be still asleep. But in this I was mistaken: for going to the well at +the back to wash, I found her there, studying her face in the mirror. + +“Luckily met, Jack,” she said, when I was cleansed and freshly glowing: +“Now fill another bucket and sarve me the same.” + +“Cannot you wash yourself?” I ask'd, as I did so. + +“Lost the knack, I reckon. Stand thee so, an' slush the water over me.” + +“But your clothes!” I cried out, “they'll be soaking wet!” + +“Clothes won't be worse for a wash, neither. So slush away.” + +Therefore, standing at three paces' distance, I sent a bucketful over +her, and then another and another. Six times I filled and emptied the +bucket in all: and at the end she was satisfied, and went, dripping, +back to the kitchen to get me my breakfast. + +“Art early abroad,” she said, as we sat together over the meal. + +“Yes, for I must ride to Gleys this morning.” + +“Shan't be sorry to miss thee for a while. Makes me feel so shy--this +cleanliness.” So, promising to be back by nightfall, I went presently to +saddle Molly: and following Joan's directions and her warnings against +quags and pitfalls, was soon riding south across the moor and well on my +road to the House of Gleys. + +My way leading me by Braddock Down, I turned aside for a while to +examine the ground of the late fight (tho' by now little was to be seen +but a piece of earthwork left unfinish'd by the rebels, and the fresh +mounds where the dead were laid); and so 'twas high noon--and a dull, +cheerless day--before the hills broke and let me have sight of the sea. +Nor, till the noise of the surf was in my ears, did I mark the chimneys +and naked grey walls of the house I was bound for. + +'Twas a gloomy, savage pile of granite, perch'd at the extremity of a +narrow neck of land, where every wind might sweep it, and the waves beat +on three sides the cliff below. The tide was now at the full, almost, +and the spray flying in my face, as we crossed the head of a small +beach, forded a stream, and scrambled up the rough road to the entrance +gate. + +A thin line of smoke blown level from one chimney was all the sign of +life in the building: for the narrow lights of the upper story were +mostly shuttered, and the lower floor was hid from me by a high wall +enclosing a courtlage in front. One stunted ash, with boughs tortured +and bent toward the mainland, stood by the gate, which was lock'd. A +smaller door, also lock'd, was let into the gate, and in this again a +shuttered iron grating. Hard by, dangled a rusty bell-pull, at which I +tugg'd sturdily. + +On this, a crack'd bell sounded, far in the house, and scared a flock of +starlings out of a disused chimney. Their cries died away presently, and +left no sound but that of the gulls wailing about the cliff at my feet. +This was all the answer I won. + +I rang again, and a third time: and now at last came the sound of +footsteps shuffling across the court within. The shutter of the grating +was slipp'd back, and a voice, crack'd as the bell, asked my business. + +“To see Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” answered I. + +“Thy name?” + +“He shall hear it in time. Say that I come on business concerning the +estate.” + +The voice mutter'd something, and the footsteps went back. I had been +kicking my heels there for twenty minutes or more when they returned, +and the voice repeated the question--- + +“Thy name?” + +Being by this time angered, I did a foolish thing; which was, to clap +the muzzle of my pistol against the grating, close to the fellow's nose. +Singular to say, the trick serv'd me. A bolt was slipp'd hastily back +and the wicket door opened stealthily. + +“I want,” said I, “room for my horse to pass.” + +Thereupon more grumbling follow'd, and a prodigious creaking of bolts +and chains; after which the big gate swung stiffly back. + +“Sure, you must be worth a deal,” I said, “that shut yourselves in so +careful.” + +Before me stood a strange fellow--extraordinary old and bent, with a +wizen'd face, one eye only, and a chin that almost touched his nose. He +wore a dirty suit of livery, that once had been canary-yellow; and shook +with the palsy. + +“Master Tingcomb will see the young man,” he squeak'd, nodding his head; +“but is a-reading just now in his Bible.” + +“A pretty habit,” answered I, leading in Molly--“if unseasonable. But +why not have said so?” + +He seem'd to consider this for a while, and then said abruptly-- + +“Have some pasty and some good cider?” + +“Why yes,” I said, “with all my heart, when I have stabled the sorrel +here.” + +He led the way across the court, well paved but chok'd with weeds, +toward the stable. I found it a spacious building, and counted sixteen +stalls there; but all were empty save two, where stood the horses I had +seen in Bodmin the day before. Having stabled Molly, I left the place +(which was thick with cobwebs) and follow'd the old servant into the +house. + +He took me into a great stone kitchen, and brought out the pasty and +cider, but poured out half a glass only. + +“Have a care, young man: 'tis a luscious, thick, seductive drink,” and +he chuckled. + +“'Twould turn the edge of a knife,” said I, tasting it and looking at +him: but his one blear'd eye was inscrutable. The pasty also was mouldy, +and I soon laid it down. + +“Hast a proud stomach that cometh of faring sumptuously: the beef +therein is our own killing,” said he. “Young sir, art a man of blood, I +greatly fear, by thy long sword and handiness with the firearms.” + +“Shall be presently,” answered I, “if you lead me not to Master +Tingcomb.” + +He scrambled up briskly and totter'd out of the kitchen into a stone +corridor, I after him. Along this he hurried, muttering all the way, and +halted before a door at the end. Without knocking he pushed it open, and +motioning me to enter, hasten'd back as he had come. + +“Come in,” said a voice that seem'd familiar to me. + +Though, as you know, 'twas still high day, in the room where now I found +myself was every appearance of night: the shutters being closed, and +six lighted candles standing on the table. Behind them sat the venerable +gentleman whom I had seen in the coach, now wearing a plain suit of +black, and reading in a great book that lay open on the table. I guess'd +it to be the Bible; but noted that the candles had shades about them, +so disposed as to throw the light, not on the page, but on the doorway +where I stood. + +Yet the old gentleman, having bid me enter, went on reading for a while +as though wholly unaware of me: which I found somewhat nettling, so +began--- + +“I speak, I believe, to Master Hannibal Tingcomb, steward to Sir Deakin +Killigrew.” + +He went on, as if ending his sentence aloud: “... And my darling from +the power of the dog.” Here he paused with finger on the place and +looked up. “Yes, young sir, that is my name--steward to the late Sir +Deakin Killigrew.” + +“The late?” cried I: “Then you know--” + +“Surely I know that Sir Deakin is dead: else should I be but an unworthy +steward.” He open'd his grave eyes as if in wonder. + +“And his son, also?” + +“Also his son Anthony, a headstrong boy, I fear me, a consorter with +vile characters. Alas? that I should say it.” + +“And his daughter, Mistress Delia?” + +“Alas!” and he fetched a deep sigh. + +“Do you mean, sir, that she too is dead!” + +“Why, to be sure-but let us talk on less painful matters.” + +“In one moment, sir: but first tell me--where did she die, and when?” + +For my heart stood still, and I was fain to clutch the table between us +to keep me from falling. I think this did not escape him, for he gave me +a sharp look, and then spoke very quiet and hush'd, + +“She was cruelly kill'd by highwaymen, at the 'Three Cups' inn, some +miles out of Hungerford. The date given me is the 3d of December last.” + +With this a great rush of joy came over me, and I blurted out, +delighted-- + +“There, sir, you are wrong! Her father was kill'd on the night of which +you speak--cruelly enough, as you say: but Mistress Delia Killigrew +escaped, and after the most incredible adventures--” + +I was expecting him to start up with joy at my announcement; but instead +of this, he gaz'd at me very sorrowfully and shook his head; which +brought me to a stand. + +“Sir,” I said, changing my tone, “I speak but what I know: for 'twas I +had the happy fortune to help her to escape, and, under God's hand, to +bring her safe to Cornwall.” + +“Then, where is she now?” + +Now this was just what I could not tell. So, standing before him, I +gave him my name and a history of all my adventures in my dear comrade's +company, from the hour when I saw her first in the inn at Hungerford. +Still keeping his finger on the page, he heard me to the end +attentively, but with a curling of the lips toward the close, such as I +did not like. And when I had done, to my amaze he spoke out sharply, and +as if to a whipp'd schoolboy. + +“'Tis a cock-and-bull story, sir, of which I could hope to make you +ashamed. Six weeks in your company? and in boy's habit? Surely 'twas +enough the pure unhappy maid should be dead--without such vile slander +on her fame, and from you, that were known, sir, to have been at that +inn, and on that night, with her murderers. Boy, I have evidence that, +taken with your confession, would weave you a halter; and am a Justice +of the Peace. Be thankful, then, that I am a merciful man; yet be +abash'd.” + +Abash'd, indeed, I was; or at least taken aback, to see his holy +indignation and the flush on his waxen cheek. Like a fool I stood +staggered, and wondered dimly where I had heard that thin voice before. +In the confusion of my senses I heard it say solemnly--- + +“The sins of her fathers have overtaken her, as the Book of Exodus +proclaim'd: therefore is her inheritance wasted, and given to the satyr +and the wild ass.” + +[Illustration: “What did you in Oxford last November?”--Page 219.] + +“And which of the twain be you, sir?” + +I cannot tell what forced this violent rudeness from me, for he seem'd +an honest, good man; but my heart was boiling that any should put so +ill a construction on my Delia. As for him, he had risen, and was moving +with dignity to the door--to show me out, as I guess. When suddenly I, +that had been staring stupidly, leap'd upon him and hurled him back into +his chair. + +For I had marked his left foot trailing, and, by the token, knew him for +the white hair'd man of the bowling-green. + +“Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” I spoke in his ear, “--dog and murderer! +What did you in Oxford last November? And how of Captain Lucius Higgs, +otherwise Captain Luke Settle, otherwise Mr. X.? Speak, before I serve +you as the dog was served that night!” + +I dream yet, in my sick nights, of the change that came over the vile, +hypocritical knave at these words of mine. To see his pale venerable +face turn green and livid, his eyeball start, his hands clutch at +air--it frighten'd me. + +“Brandy!” he gasped. “Brandy! there--quick--for God's sake!” + +And the next moment he had slipp'd from my grasp, and was wallowing in +a fit on the floor. I ran to the cupboard at which he had pointed, and +finding there a bottle of strong waters, forced some drops between his +teeth; and hard work it was, he gnashing at me all the time and foaming +at the mouth. + +Presently he ceased to writhe and bite: and lifting, I set him in his +chair, where he lay, a mere limp bundle, staring and blinking. So I sat +down facing him, and waited his recovery. + +“Dear young sir,” he began at length feebly, his fingers searching the +Bible before him, from force of habit. “Kind young sir--I am an old, +dying man, and my sins have found me out. Only yesterday, the physician +at Bodmin told me that my days are numbered. This is the second attack, +and the third will kill me.” + +“Well?” said I. + +“If--if Mistress Delia be alive (as indeed I did not think), I will make +restitution--I will confess--only tell me what to do, that I may die in +peace.” + +Indeed, he look'd pitiable, sitting there and stammering: but I harden'd +my heart to say--- + +“I must have a confession, then, written before I leave the room.” + +“But, dear young friend, you will not use it if I give up all? You will +not seek my life? that already is worthless, as you see.” + +“Why, 'tis what you deserve. But Delia shall say when I find her--as +I shall go straight to seek her. If she be lost, I shall use it--never +fear: if she be found, it shall be hers to say what mercy she can +discover in her heart; but I promise you I shall advise none.” + +The tears by this were coursing down his shrunken cheeks, but I observ'd +him watch me narrowly, as though to find out how much I knew. So I +pull'd out my pistol, and setting pen and paper before him, obtained +at the end of an hour a very pretty confession of his sins, which lies +among my papers to this day. When 'twas written and sign'd, in a weak, +rambling hand, I read it through, folded it, placed it inside my coat, +and prepared to take my leave. + +But he called out an order to the old servant to saddle my mare, and +stood softly praying and beseeching me in the courtyard till the last +moment. Nor when I was mounted would anything serve but he must follow +at my stirrup to the gate. But when I had briefly taken leave, and the +heavy doors had creaked behind me, I heard a voice calling after me down +the road--- + +“Dear young sir! Dear friend!--I had forgotten somewhat.” + +Returning, I found the gate fastened, and the iron shutter slipp'd back. + +“Well?” I asked, leaning toward it. + +“Dear young friend, I pity thee, for thy paper is worthless. To-day, by +my advices, the army of our most Christian Parliament, more than twenty +thousand strong, under the Earl of Stamford, have overtaken thy friends, +the malignant gentry, near Stratton Heath, in the northeast. They are +more than two to one. By this hour to-morrow, the Papists all will be +running like conies to their burrows, and little chance wilt thou have +to seek Delia Killigrew, much less to find her. And remember, I know +enough of thy late services to hang thee: mercy then will lie in my +friends' hands; but be sure I shall advise none.” + +And with a mocking laugh he clapp'd--to the grating in my face. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS. + + +You may guess how I felt at being thus properly fooled. And the worst +was I could see no way to mend it; for against the barricade between us +I might have beat myself for hours, yet only hurt my fists: and the wall +was so smooth and high, that even by standing on Molly's back I could +not--by a foot or more--reach the top to pull myself over. + +There was nothing for it but to turn homewards, down the hill: which I +did, chewing the cud of my folly, and finding it bitter as gall. What +consoled me somewhat was the reflection that his threats were, likely +enough, mere vaporing: for of any breach of the late compact between +the parties I had heard nothing, and never seem'd a country more wholly +given up to peace than that through which I had ridden in the morning. +So recalling Master Tingcomb's late face of terror, and the confession +in my pocket, I felt more cheerful. “England has grown a strange place, +if I cannot get justice on this villain,” thought I; and rode forward, +planning a return-match and a sweet revenge. + +There is no more soothing game, I believe, in the world than this of +holding imaginary triumphant discourse with your enemy. Yet (oddly) it +brought me but cold comfort on this occasion, my wound being too recent +and galling. The sky, so long clouded, was bright'ning now, and growing +serener every minute: the hills were thick with fox-gloves, the vales +white with hawthorn, smelling very sweetly in the cool of the day: but +I, with the bridle flung on Molly's neck, pass'd them by, thinking only +of my discomfiture, and barely rousing myself to give back a “Good-day” + to those that met me on the road. Nor, till we were on the downs and +Joan's cottage came in sight, did I shake the brooding off. + +Joan was not in the kitchen when I arrived, nor about the buildings; nor +yet could I spy her anywhere moving on the hills. So, after calling to +her once or twice, I stabled the mare, and set off up the tor side to +seek her. + +Now I must tell you that since the day of my coming I had made many +attempts to find the place where Joan had then hidden me, and always +fruitlessly: though I knew well whereabouts it must be. Indeed, I had +thought at first I had only to walk straight to the hole: yet found +after repeated trials but solid earth and boulders for my pains. + +But to-day as I climb'd past the spot, something very bright flashed in +my eyes and dazzled me, and rubbing them and looking, I saw a great hole +in the hill--facing to the sou'-west--in the very place I had search'd +for it; and out of this a beam of light glancing. + +Creeping near on tiptoe, I found one huge block of granite that before +had seemed bedded, among a dozen fellow-boulders, against the turf--the +base resting on another well-nigh as big--was now rolled back; having +been fixed to work smoothly on a pivot, yet so like nature that no eye, +but by chance, could detect it. Now, who in the beginning designed this +hiding place I leave you to consider; and whether it was the Jews or +Phoenicians--nations, I am told, that once work'd the hills around for +tin. But inside 'twas curiously paved and lined with slabs of granite, +the specks of ore in which, I noted, were the points of light that had +once puzzled me. And here was Joan's bower, and Joan herself inside it. + +She was sitting with her back to me, in her left hand holding up the +mirror, that caught the rays of the now sinking sun (and thus had +dazzled me), while with her right she tried to twist into some form of +knot her tresses--black, and coarse as a horse's mane--that already she +had roughly braided. A pail of water stood beside her; and around lay +scatter'd a score or more of long thorns, cut to the shape of hair pins. + +'Tis probable that after a minute's watching I let some laughter escape +me. At any rate Joan turned, spied me, and scrambled up, with an angry +red on her cheek. Then I saw that her bodice was neater lac'd than +usual, and a bow of yellow ribbon (fish'd up heaven knows whence) stuck +in the bosom. But the strangest thing was to note the effect of this new +tidiness upon her: for she took a step forward as if to cuff me by the +ear (as, a day agone, she would have done), and then stopp'd, very shy +and hesitating. + +“Why, Joan,” said I, “don't be anger'd. It suits you choicely--it does +indeed.” + +“Art scoffing, I doubt.” She stood looking heavily and askance at me. + +“On my faith, no: and what a rare tiring-bower the Jew's Kitchen makes! +Come, Joan, be debonair and talk to me, for I am out of luck to-day.” + +“Forgit it, then” (and she pointed to the sun), “whiles yet some o't is +left. Tell me a tale, an thou'rt minded.” + +“Of what?” + +“O' the bloodiest battle thou'st ever heard tell on.” + +So, sitting by the mouth of the Jew's Kitchen, I told her as much as I +could remember out of Homer's Iliad, wondering the while what my tutor, +Mr. Josias How, of Trinity College, would think to hear me so use his +teaching. By-and-bye, as I warm'd to the tale, Joan forgot her new +smartness; and at length, when Hector was running from Achilles round +the walls, clapp'd her hands for excitement, crying, “Church an' King, +lad! Oh, brave work!” + +“Why, no,” answered I, “'twas not for that they were fighting;” and +looking at her, broke off with, “Joan, art certainly a handsome girl: +give me a kiss for the mirror.” + +Instead of flying out, as I look'd for, she fac'd round, and answered me +gravely--- + +“That I will not: not to any but my master.” + +“And who is that?” + +“No man yet; nor shall be till one has beat me sore: him will I love, +an' follow like a dog--if so be he whack me often enow'.” + +“A strange way to love,” laughed I. + +She look'd at me straight, albeit with an odd gloomy light in her eyes. + +“Think so, Jack? then I give thee leave to try.” + +I think there is always a brutality lurking in a man to leap out +unawares. Yet why do I seek excuses, that have never yet found one? To +be plain, I sprang fiercely up and after Joan, who had already started, +and was racing along the slope. + +Twice around the tor she led me: and though I strain'd my best, not +a yard could I gain upon her, for her bare feet carried her light and +free. Indeed, I was losing ground, when coming to the Jew's Kitchen a +second time, she tried to slip inside and shut the stone in my face. + +Then should I have been prettily bemock'd, had I not, with a great +effort, contrived to thrust my boot against the door just as it was +closing. Wrenching it open, I laid hand on her shoulder; and in a moment +she had gripp'd me, and was wrestling like a wild-cat. + +Now being Cumberland-bred I knew only the wrestling of my own county, +and nothing of the Cornish style. For in the north they stand well +apart, and try to wear down one another's strength: whereas the Cornish +is a brisker lighter play--and (as I must confess) prettier to watch. +So when Joan rush'd in and closed with me, I was within an ace of being +thrown, pat. + +But recovering, I got her at arm's length, and held her so, while my +heart ach'd to see my fingers gripping her shoulders and sinking into +the flesh. I begg'd off; but she only fought and panted, and struggled +to lock me by the ankles again. I could not have dream'd to find such +fierce strength in a girl. Once or twice she nearly overmastered me: but +at length my stubborn play wore her out. Her breath came short and fast, +then fainter: and in the end, still holding her off, I turned her by the +shoulders, and let her drop quietly on the turf. No thought had I any +longer of kissing her; but stood back, heartily sick and ashamed of +myself. + +For awhile she lay, turn'd over on her side, with hands guarding her +head, as if expecting me to strike her. Then gathering herself up, she +came and put her hand in mine, very meekly. + +“Had lik'd it better had'st thou stamped the life out o' me, a'most. But +there, lad--am thine forever!” + +'Twas like a buffet in the face to me. “What!” I cried. + +She look'd up in my face--dear Heaven, that I should have to write +it!--with eyes brimful, sick with love; tried to speak, but could only +nod: and broke into a wild fit of tears. + +I was standing there with her hand in mine, and a burning remorse in my +heart, when I heard the clear notes of a bugle blown, away on the road +to Launceston. + +Looking that way, I saw a great company of horse coming down over the +crest, the sun shining level on their arms and a green standard that +they bore in their midst. + +Joan spied them the same instant, and check'd her sobs. Without a word +we flung ourselves down full length on the turf to watch. + +They were more than a thousand, as I guess'd, and came winding down the +road very orderly, till, being full of them, it seem'd a long serpent +writhing with shiny scales. The tramp of hoofs and jingling of bits were +pretty to hear. + +“Rebels!” whisper'd I. + +Joan nodded. + +There were three regiments in all, whereof the first (and biggest) was +of dragoons. So clear was the air, I could almost read the legend on +their standard, and the calls of their captains were borne up to us +extremely distinct. + +As they rode leisurely past, I thought of Master Tingcomb's threat, and +wonder'd what this array could intend. Nor, turning it over, could I +find any explanation: for the Earl of Stamford's gathering, he had said, +was in the northeast, and I knew such troops as the Cornish generals had +to be quarter'd at Launceston. Yet here, on the near side of Launceston, +was a large body of rebel horse marching quietly to the sou'-west. Where +was the head or tail to it? + +Turning my head as the last rider disappear'd on the way to Bodmin, I +spied a squat oddly shap'd man striding down the hill very briskly: yet +he look'd about him often and kept to the hollows of the ground; and was +crossing below us, as it appeared, straight for Joan's cottage. + +Cried I: “There is but one man in the world with such a gait--and that's +Billy Pottery!” + +And jumping to my feet (for he was come directly beneath us) I caught up +a great stone and sent it bowling down the slope. + +Bounce it went past him, missing his legs by a foot or less. The man +turn'd, and catching sight of me as I stood waving, made his way up +the hill. 'Twas indeed Captain Bilty: and coming up, the honest fellow +almost hugg'd me for joy. + +“Was seeking thee, Jack,” he bawled: “learn'd from Sir Bevill where +belike I might find thee. Left his lodging at Launceston this mornin', +and trudged ivery foot o' the way. A thirsty land, Jack--neither horse's +meat nor man's meat therein, nor a chair to sit down on: an' three women +only have I kiss'd this day!” He broke off and look'd at Joan. “Beggin' +the lady's pardon for sea manners and way o' speech.” + +“Joan,” said I, “this is Billy Pottery, a good mariner and friend of +mine: and as deaf as a haddock.” + +Billy made a leg; and as I pointed to the road where the cavalry had +just disappeared, went on with a nod--- + +“That's so: old Sir G'arge Chudleigh's troop o' horse sent off to Bodmin +to seize the High Sheriff and his _posse_ there. Two hour agone I spied +'em, and ha' been ever since playin' spy.” + +“Then where be the King's forces?” I made shift to enquire by signs. + +“March'd out o' Launceston to-day, lad--an' but a biscuit a man between +'em, poor dears--for Stratton Heath, i' the nor'-east, where the rebels +be encamp'd. Heard by scouts o' these gentry bein' sent to Bodmin, and +were minded to fight th' Earl o' Stamford whiles his dragooners was +away. An' here's the long an' short o't: thou'rt wanted, lad, to bear a +hand wi' us up yonder--an the good lady here can spare thee.” + +And here we both look'd at Joan--I shamefacedly enough, and Billy with a +puzzled air, which he tried very delicately to hide. + +She put her hand in mine. + +“To fight, lad?” + +I nodded my head. + +“Then go,” she said without a shade in her voice; and as I made no +answer, went on--“Shall a woman hinder when there's fightin' toward? +Only come back when thy wars be over, for I shall miss thee, Jack.” + +And dropping my hand she led the way down to the cottage. + +Now Billy, of course, had not heard a word of this: but perhaps he +gathered some import. Any way, he pull'd up short midway on the slope, +scratched his head, and thunder'd--- + +“What a good lass!” + +Joan, some paces ahead, turn'd at this and smil'd: whereat, having no +idea he'd spoken above a whisper, Billy blush'd red as any peony. + +'Twas but a short half hour when, the mare being saddled and Billy fed, +we took our leave of Joan. Billy walked beside one stirrup, and the +girl on the other side, to see us a few yards on our way. At length she +halted--- + +“No leave-takin's, Jack, but 'Church and King!' Only do thy best and not +disgrace me.” + +And “Church and King!” she call'd thrice after us, standing in the road. +For me, as I rode up out of that valley, the drums seem'd beating and +the bugles calling to a new life ahead. The last light of day was on the +tors, the air blowing fresher as we mounted: and with Molly's every step +the past five months appear'd to dissolve and fall away from me as a +dream. + +On the crest, I turn'd in the saddle. Joan was yet standing there, a +black speck on the road. She waved her hand once. + +Billy had turn'd too, and, uncovering, shouted so that the hilltops +echoed. + +“A good lass--a good lass! But what's become o' t'other one?” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH. + + +Night came, and found us but midway between Temple and Lannceston: for +tho' my comrade stepp'd briskly beside me, 'twas useless to put Molly +beyond a walk; and besides, the mare was new from her day's journey. +This troubled me the less by reason of the moon (now almost at the +full), and the extreme whiteness of the road underfoot, so that there +was no fear of going astray. And Billy engaged that by sunrise we should +be in sight of the King's troops. + +“Nay, Jack,” he said, when by signs I offered him to ride and tie: +“never rode o' horseback but once, and then 'pon Parson Spinks his red +mare at Bideford. Parson i' those days was courtin' the Widow Hambly, +over to Torrington: an' I, that wanted to fare to Barnstaple, spent that +mornin' an' better part o' th' afternoon, clawin' off Torrington. And +th' end was the larboard halyards broke, an' the mare gybed, an' to +Torrington I went before the wind, wi' an unseemly bloody nose. 'Lud!' +cries the widow, ''tis the wrong man 'pon the right horse!' 'Pardon, +mistress,' says I, 'the man is well enow, but 'pon the wrong horse, for +sure.'” + +Now and then, as we went, I would dismount and lead Molly by the bridle +for a mile or so: and all the way to Launceston Billy was recounting his +adventures since our parting. It appeared that, after leaving me, they +had come to Plymouth with a fair passage: but before they could unlade, +had advertisement of the Governor's design to seize all vessels then +riding in the Sound, for purposes of war; and so made a quick escape by +night into Looe Haven, where they had the fortune to part with the best +part of their cargo at a high profit. 'Twas while unlading here that +Billy had a mind to pay a debt he ow'd to a cousin of his at Altarnun, +and, leaving Matt Soames in charge, had tramped northward through +Liskeard to Launceston, where he found the Cornish forces, and was met +by the news of the Earl of Stamford's advance in the northeast. Further, +meeting, in Sir Bevill's troop, with some north coast men of his +acquaintance, he fell to talking, and so learn'd about me and my ride +toward Braddock, which (it seem'd) was now become common knowledge. This +led him to seek Sir Bevill, with the result that you know: “for,” as he +wound up, “'tis a desirable an' rare delight to pay a debt an' see some +fun, together.” + +We had some trouble at Launceston gate, where were a few burghers posted +for sentries, and, as I could see, ready to take fright at their own +shadows. But Billy gave the watchword (“One and All”), and presently +they let us through. As we pass'd along the street we marked a light +in every window almost, tho' 'twas near midnight; and the people moving +about behind their curtains. There were groups too in the dark doorways, +gather'd there discussing, that eyed us as we went by, and answered +Billy's _Good-night, honest men!_ very hoarse and doubtfully. + +But when we were beyond the town, and between hedges again, I think I +must have dozed off in my saddle. For, though this was a road full of +sharp memories, being the last I had traveled with Delia, I have no +remembrance to have felt them; or, indeed, of noting aught but the fresh +night air, and the constellation of the Bear blazing ahead, and Billy's +voice resonant beside me. + +And after this I can recall passing the tower of Marham Church, with the +paling sky behind it, and some birds chattering in the carved courses: +and soon (it seem'd) felt Billy's grip on my knee, and open'd my eyes to +see his finger pointing. + +We stood on a ridge above a hollow vale into which the sun, though now +bright, did not yet pierce, but passing over to a high, conical hill +beyond, smote level on line after line of white tents--the prettiest +sight! 'Twas the enemy there encamped on the top and some way down the +sides, the smoke of their trampled watch fires still curling among the +gorsebushes. I heard their trumpets calling and drums beating to arms; +for though, glancing back at the sun, I judged it to be hardly past four +in the morning, yet already the slopes were moving like an ant-hill--the +regiments gathering, arms flashing, horsemen galloping to and fro, and +the captains shouting their commands. In the distance this had a sweet +and cheerful sound, no more disquieting than a ploughboy calling to his +team. + +Looking down into the valley at our feet, at first I saw no sign of our +own troops--only the roofs of a little town, with overmuch smoke spread +above it, like a morning mist. But here also I heard the church bells +clashing and a drum beating, and presently spied a gleam of arms down +among the trees, and then a regiment of foot moving westward along the +base of the hill. 'Twas evident the battle was at hand, and we quicken'd +our pace down into the street. + +It lay on the slope, and midway down we pass'd some watch fires burn'd +out; and then a soldier or two running and fastening their straps; and +last a little child, that seem'd wild with the joy of living amid great +events, but led us pretty straight to the sign of “The Tree,” which +indeed was the only tavern. + +It stood some way back from the street, with a great elm before the +porch: where by a table sat two men, with tankards beside them, and a +small company of grooms and soldiers standing round. Both men were more +than ordinary tall and soldier like: only the bigger wore a scarlet +cloak very richly lac'd, and was shouting orders to his men; while +the other, dress'd in plain buff suit and jack boots, had a map spread +before him, which he studied very attentively, writing therein with a +quill pen. + +“What a plague have we here?” cries the big man, as we drew up. + +“Recruits if it please you, sir,” said I, dismounting and pulling off my +hat, tho' his insolent tone offended me. + +“S'lid! The boy speaks as if he were a regiment,” growls he, half aloud: +“Can'st fight?” + +“That, with your leave, sir, is what I am come to try.” + +“And this rascal?” He turned on Billy. + +Billy heard not a word, of course, yet answered readily-- + +“Why, since your honor is so pleasantly minded--let it be cider.” + +Now the first effect of this, deliver'd with all force of lung, was +to make the big man sit bolt upright and staring: recovering speech, +however, he broke into a volley of blasphemous curses. + +All this while the man in buff had scarce lifted his eyes off the map. +But now he looks up--and I saw at the first glance that the two men +hated each other. + +“I think,” said he quietly, “my Lord Mohun has forgot to ask the +_gentleman's_ name.” + +“My name is Marvel, sir--John Marvel.” I answer'd him with a bow. + +“Hey!”--and dropping his pen he starts up and grasps my hand--“Then 'tis +you I have never thanked for His Gracious Majesty's letter.” + +“The General Hopton?” cried I. + +“Even so, sir. My lord,” he went on, still holding my hand and turning +to his companion, “let me present to you the gentleman that in +January sav'd your house of Bocconnoc from burning at the hands of the +rebels--whom God confound this day!” He lifted his hat. + +“Amen,” said I, as his lordship bowed, exceedingly sulky. But I did +not value his rage, being hot with joy to be so beprais'd by the first +captain (as I yet hold) on the royal side. Who now, not without a sly +triumph, flung the price of Billy's cider on the table and, folding up +his map, address'd me again-- + +“Master Marvel, the fight to-day will lie but little with the horse--or +so I hope. You will do well, if your wish be to serve us best, to leave +your mare behind. The troop which my Lord Mohun and I command together +is below. But Sir Bevill Grenville, who has seen and is interested in +you, has the first claim: and I would not deny you the delight to fight +your first battle under so good a master. His men are, with Sir John +Berkeley's troop, a little to the westward: and if you are ready I will +go some distance with you, and put you in the way to find him. My lord, +may we look for you presently?” + +The Lord Mohun nodded, surly enough: so, Billy's cider being now drunk +and Molly given over to an ostler, we set out down the hill together, +Billy shouldering a pipe and walking after with the groom that led Sir +Ralph's horse. Be sure the General's courtly manner of speech set my +blood tingling. I seem'd to grow a full two inches taller; and when, in +the vale, we parted, he directing me to the left, where through a gap +I could see Sir Bevill's troop forming at some five hundred paces' +distance, I felt a very desperate warrior indeed; and set off at a run, +with Billy behind me. + +'Twas an open space we had to cross, dotted with gorsebushes; and the +enemy's regiments, plain to see, drawn up in battalia on the slope +above, which here was gentler than to the south and west. But hardly had +we gone ten yards than I saw a puff of white smoke above, then another, +and then the summit ring'd with flame; and heard the noise of it roaring +in the hills around. At the first sound I pull'd up, and then began +running again at full speed: for I saw our division already in motion, +and advancing up the hill at a quick pace. + +The curve of the slope hid all but the nearest: but above them I saw +a steep earthwork, and thereon three or four brass pieces of ordnance +glittering whenever the smoke lifted. For here the artillery was plying +the briskest, pouring down volley on volley; and four regiments at least +stood mass'd behind, ready to fall on the Cornish-men; who, answering +with a small discharge of musketry, now ran forward more nimbly. + +To catch up with them, I must now turn my course obliquely up the hill, +where running was pretty toilsome. We were panting along when suddenly a +shower of sand and earth was dash'd in my face, spattering me all over. +Half-blinded, I look'd and saw a great round shot had ploughed a trench +in the ground at my feet, and lay there buried. + +At the same moment, Billy, who was running at my shoulder, plumps down +on his knees and begins to whine and moan most pitiably. + +“Art hurt, dear fellow?” asked I, turning. + +“Oh, Jack, Jack--I have no stomach for this! A cool, wet death at sea +I do not fear; only to have the great hot shot burning in a man's +belly--'tis terrifying. I _hate_ a swift death! Jack, I be a sinner--I +will confess: I lied to thee yesterday--never kiss'd the three maids +I spoke of--never kiss'd but one i' my life, an' her a tap-wench, +that slapp'd my face for 't, an' so don't properly count. I be a very +boastful man!” + +Now I myself had felt somewhat cold inside when the guns began roaring: +but this set me right in a trice. I whipp'd a pistol out of my sash and +put the cold ring to his ear: and he scrambled up; and was a very lion +all the rest of the day. + +But now we had again to change our course, for to my dismay I saw a +line of sharpshooters moving down among the gorsebushes, to take the +Cornishmen in flank. And 'twas lucky we had but a little way further +to go; for these skirmishers, thinking perhaps from my dress and our +running thus that we bore some message open'd fire on us: and tho' they +were bad marksmen, 'twas ugly to see their bullets pattering into the +turf, to right and left. + +We caught up the very last line of the ascending troop--lean, hungry +looking men, with wan faces, but shouting lustily. I think they were +about three hundred in all. “Come on, lad,” called out a bearded fellow +with a bandage over one eye, making room for me at his side; “there's +work for plenty more!”--and a minute after, a shot took him in the ribs, +and he scream'd out “Oh, my God!” and flinging up his arms, leap'd a +foot in air and fell on his face. + +Pressing up, I noted that the first line was now at the foot of the +earthwork; and, in a minute, saw their steel caps and crimson sashes +swarming up the face of it, and their pikes shining. But now came a +shock, and the fellow in front was thrust back into my arms. I reeled +down a pace or two and then, finding foothold, stood pushing. And next, +the whole body came tumbling back on me, and down the hill we went +flying, with oaths and cries. Three of the rebel regiments had been +flung on us and by sheer weight bore us before them. At the same time +the sharpshooters pour'd in a volley: and I began to see how a man may +go through a battle, and be beat, without striking a blow. + +But in the midst of this scurry I heard the sound of cheering. 'Twas Sir +John Berkeley's troop (till now posted under cover of the hedges below) +that had come to our support; and the rebels, fearing to advance too +far, must have withdrawn again behind their earthwork, for after a while +the pressure eas'd a bit, and, to my amaze, the troop which but a minute +since was a mere huddled crowd, formed in some order afresh, and once +more began to climb. This time, I had a thick-set pikeman in front of +me, with a big wen at the back of his neck that seem'd to fix all my +attention. And up we went, I counting the beat of my heart that was +already going hard and short with the work; and then, amid the rattle +and thunder of their guns, we stopp'd again. + +I had taken no notice of it, but in the confusion of the first repulse +the greater part of our men had been thrust past me, so that now I found +myself no further back than the fourth rank, and at the very foot of the +earthwork, up the which our leaders were flung like a wave; and soon I +was scrambling after them, ankle deep in the sandy earth, the man with +the wen just ahead, grinding my instep with his heel and poking his pike +staff between my knees as he slipp'd. + +And just at the moment when the top of our wave was cleaving a small +breach above us, he fell on the flat of his pike, with his nose buried +in the gravel and his hands clutching. Looking up I saw a tall rebel +straddling above him with musket clubb'd to beat his brains out: whom +with an effort I caught by the boot; and, the bank slipping at that +instant, down we all slid in a heap, a jumble of arms and legs, to the +very bottom. + +Before I had the sand well out of my eyes, my comrade was up and had his +pike loose; and in a twinkling, the rebel was spitted through the middle +and writhing. 'Twas sickening: but before I could pull out my pistol +and end his pain (as I was minded), back came our front rank a-top of +us again, and down they were driven like sheep, my companion catching up +the dead man's musket and ammunition bag, and I followed down the slope +with three stout rebels at my heels. “What will be the end of _this?_” + thought I. + +The end was, that after forty yards or so, finding the foremost close +upon me, I turn'd about and let fly with my pistol at him. He spun round +twice and dropp'd: which I was wondering at (the pistol being but a poor +weapon for aim) when I was caught by the arm and pull'd behind a clump +of bushes handy by. 'Twas the man with the wen, and by his smoking +musket I knew that 'twas he had fired the shot that killed my pursuer. + +“Good turn for good turn,” says he: “quick with thy other pistol!” + +The other two had stopped doubtfully, but at the next discharge of my +pistol they turn'd tail and went up the hill again, and we were left +alone. And suddenly I grew aware that my head was aching fit to split, +and lay down on the turf, very sick and ill. + +My comrade took no notice of this, but, going for the dead man's musket, +kept loading and firing, pausing now and then for his artillery to cool, +and whistling a tune that runs in my head to this day. And all the time +I heard shouts and cries and the noise of musketry all around, which +made me judge that the attack was going on in many places at once. +When I came to myself 'twas to hear a bugle below calling again to the +charge, and once more came the two troops ascending. At their head was a +slight built man, bare-headed, with the sun (that was by this, high +over the hill) smiting on his brown curls, and the wind blowing them. +He carried a naked sword in his hand, and waved his men forward as +cheerfully as though 'twere a dance and he leading out his partner. + +“Who is that yonder?” asked I, sitting up and pointing. + +“Bless thy innocent heart!” said my comrade, “dostn't thee know? Tis Sir +Bevill.” + + * * * * * + +'Twould be tedious to tell the whole of this long fight, which, +beginning soon after sunrise, ended not till four in the afternoon, or +thereabouts: and indeed of the whole my recollection is but of continual +advance and repulse on that same slope. And herein may be seen the +wisdom of our generals, in attacking while the main body of the enemy's +horse was away: for had the Earl of Stamford possessed a sufficient +force of dragoons to let slip on us at the first discomfiture, there is +little doubt he might have ended the battle there and then. As it was, +the horse stood out of the fray, theirs upon the summit of the hill, +ours (under Col. John Digby) on the other slope, to protect the town and +act as reserve. + +The foot, in four parties, was disposed about the hill on all sides; to +the west--as we know--under Sir John Berkeley and Sir Bevill Grenville; +to the south under General Hopton and Lord Mohun; to the east under the +Colonels Tom Basset and William Godolphin; while the steep side to the +north was stormed by Sir Nicholas Slanning and Colonel Godolphin, with +their companies. And as we had but eight small pieces of cannon and were +in numbers less than one to two, all we had to do was to march up the +hill in face of their fire, catch a knock on the head, may be, grin, and +come on again. + +But at three o'clock, we, having been for the sixth time beaten back, +were panting under cover of a hedge, and Sir John Berkeley, near by, was +writing on a drumhead some message to the camp, when there comes a young +man on horseback, his face smear'd with dirt and dust, and rides up to +him and Sir Bevill. 'Twas (I have since learn'd) to say that the powder +was all spent but a barrel or two: but this only the captains knew at +the time. + +“Very well, then,” cries Sir Bevill, leaping up gaily. “Come along, +boys--we must do it this time.” And, the troop forming, once more the +trumpets sounded the charge, and up we went. Away along the slope we +heard the other trumpeters sounding in answer, and I believe 'twas a +_sursum corda!_ to all of us. + +Billy Pottery was ranged on my right, in the first rank, and next to me, +on the other side, a giant, near seven foot high, who said his name was +Anthony Payne and his business to act as body-servant to Sir Bevill. And +he it was that struck up a mighty curious song in the Cornish tongue, +which the rest took up with a will. Twas incredible how it put fire into +them all: and Sir Bevill toss'd his hat into the air, and after him like +schoolboys we pelted, straight for the masses ahead. + +For now over the rampart came a company of red musketeers, and two of +russet-clad pikemen, charging down on us. A moment, and we were crushed +back: another, and the chant rose again. We were grappling, hand to +hand, in the midst of their files. + +But, good lack! What use is swordsmanship in a charge like this? The +first red coat that encounter'd me I had spitted through the lung, +and, carried on by the rush, he twirled me round like a windmill. In an +instant I was pass'd; the giant stepping before me and clearing a space +about him, using his pike as if 'twere a flail. With a wrench I tugg'd +my sword out and followed. I saw Sir Bevill, a little to the left, +beaten to his knee, and carried toward me. Stretching out a hand I +pull'd him on his feet again, catching, as I did so, a crack on the +skull that would have ended me, had not Billy Pottery put up his pike +and broke the force of it. Next, I remember gripping another red coat +by the beard and thrusting at him with shortened blade. Then the giant +ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought to rally round it; and with +that I seem'd caught off my feet and swept forward:--and we were on the +crest. + +Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man's +breath off a pane. And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across +to where, on the north side, a white standard embroider'd with gold +griffins was mounting. + +“'Tis dear Nick Slanning!” he cried; “God be prais'd--the day is ours +for certain!” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT. + + +The rest of this signal victory (in which 1,700 prisoners were taken, +besides the Major-General Chudleigh; and all the rebels' camp, cannon +and victuals) I leave historians to tell. For very soon after the rout +was assured (the plain below full of men screaming and running, and Col. +John Digby's dragoons after them, chasing, cutting, and killing), a wet +muzzle was thrust into my hand, and turning, I found Molly behind me, +with the groom to whom I had given her in the morning. The rogue had +counted on a crown for his readiness, and swore the mare was ready for +anything, he having mix'd half a pint of strong ale with her mash, not +half an hour before. + +So I determin'd to see the end of it, and paying the fellow, climb'd +into the saddle. On the summit the Cornish captains were now met, and +cordially embracing. 'Tis very sad in these latter times to call back +their shouts and boyish laughter, so soon to be quench'd on Lansdowne +slopes, or by Bristol graff. Yet, O favor'd ones!--to chase Victory, to +grasp her flutt'ring skirt, and so, with warm, panting cheeks, kissing +her, to fall, escaping evil days! + +How could they laugh? For me, the late passionate struggle left me +shaken with sobs; and for the starting tears I saw neither moors around, +nor sun, nor twinkling sea. Brushing them away, I was aware of Billy +Pottery striding at my stirrup, and munching at a biscuit he had found +in the rebels' camp. Said he, “In season, Jack, is in reason. There +be times to sing an' to dance, to marry and to give in marriage; an' +likewise times to become as wax: but now, lookin' about an' seein' +no haughty slaughterin' cannon but has a Cornishman seated 'pon the +touch-hole of the same, says I in my thoughtsome way, 'Forbear!'” + +Presently he pulls up before a rebel trooper, that was writhing on the +slope with a shatter'd thigh, yet raised himself on his fists to gaze on +us with wide, painful eyes. + +“Good sirs,” gasp'd out the rebel, “can you tell me--where be Nat +Shipward?” + +“Now how should I know?” I answer'd. + +“'A had nutty-brown curls, an' wore a red jacket--Oh, as straight a +young man as ever pitched hay! 'a sarved in General Chudleigh's troop--a +very singular straight young man.” + +“Death has taken a many such,” said I, and thought on the man I had run +through in our last charge. + +The fellow groaned. “'A was my son,” he said: and though Billy pull'd +out a biscuit (his pockets bulged with them) and laid it beside him, he +turn'd from it, and sank back on the turf again. + +We left him, and now, the descent being gentler, broke into a run, in +hopes to catch up with Col. John Digby's dragoons, that already were far +across the next vale. The slope around us was piled with dead and dying, +whereof four out of every five were rebels; and cruelly they cursed us +as we passed them by. Night was coming on apace; and here already we +were in deep shadow, but could see the yellow sun on the hills beyond. +We crossed a stream at the foot, and were climbing again. Behind us the +cheering yet continued, though fainter: and fainter grew the cries and +shouting in front. Soon we turn'd into a lane over a steep hedge, under +the which two or three stout rebels were cowering. As we came tumbling +almost atop of them, they ran yelling: and we let them go in peace. + +The lane gradually led us to westward, out of the main line of the rout, +and past a hamlet where every door was shut and all silent. And at last +a slice of the sea fronted us, between two steeply shelving hills. On +the crest of the road, before it plunged down toward the coast, was +a wagon lying against the hedge, with the horses gone: and beside it, +stretch'd across the road, an old woman. Stopping, we found her dead, +with a sword-thrust through the left breast; and inside the wagon a +young man lying, with his jaw bound up,--dead also. And how this sad +spectacle happened here, so far from the battlefield, was more than we +could guess. + +I was moving away, when Billy, that was kneeling in the road, chanced +to cast his eyes up toward the sea, and dropping the dead woman's hand +scrambled on his feet and stood looking, with a puzzled face. + +Following his gaze, I saw a small sloop moving under shorten'd canvas, +about two miles from the land. She made a pleasant sight, with the last +rays of sunlight flaming on her sails: but for Billy's perturbation I +could not account, so turn'd an enquiring glance to him. + +“Suthin' i' the wind out yonder,” was his answer: “What's a sloop doing +on that ratch so close in by the point? Be dang'd! but there she goes +again;”--as the little vessel swung off a point or two further from the +breeze, that was breathing softly up Channel. “Time to sup, lad, for the +both of us,” he broke off shortly. + +Indeed, I was faint with hunger by this time, yet had no stomach to +eat thus close to the dead. So turning into a gate on our left hand, we +cross'd two or three fields, and sat down to sup off Billy's biscuits, +the mare standing quietly beside us, and cropping the short grass. + +The field where we now found ourselves ran out along the top of a small +promontory, and ended, without fence of any sort, at the cliff's edge. +As I sat looking southward, I could only observe the sloop by turning my +head: but Billy, who squatted over against me, hardly took his eyes off +her, and between this and his meal was too busy to speak a word. For +me, I had enough to do thinking over the late fight: and being near worn +out, had half a mind to spend the night there on the hard turf: for, +though the sun was now down and the landscape grey, yet the air was +exceeding warm: and albeit, as I have said, there breath'd a light +breeze now and then, 'twas hardly cool enough to dry the sweat off me. +So I stretch'd myself out, and found it very pleasant to lie still; +nor, when Billy stood up and sauntered off toward the far end of the +headland, did I stir more than to turn my head and lazily watch him. + +He was gone half an hour at the least, and the sky by this time was so +dark, that I had lost sight of him, when, rising on my elbow to look +around, I noted a curious red glow at a point where the turf broke off, +not three hundred yards behind me, and a thin smoke curling up in it, as +it seem'd, from the very face of the cliff below. In a minute or so the +smoke ceased almost; but the shine against the sky continued steady, +tho' not very strong. “Billy has lit a fire,” I guessed, and was +preparing to go and look, when I spied a black form crawling toward me, +and presently saw 'twas Billy himself. + +Coming close, he halted, put a finger to his lip and beckoned: then +began to lead the way back as he had come. + +Thought I, “these are queer doings:” but left Molly to browse, and crept +after him on hands and knees. He turn'd his head once to make sure I was +following, and then scrambled on quicker, but softly, toward the point +where the red glow was shining. + +Once more he pull'd up--as I judg'd, about twelve paces' distance from +the edge--and after considering for a second, began to move again; only +now he worked a little to the right. And soon I saw the intention of +this: for just here the cliff's lip was cleft by a fissure--very like +that in Scawfell which we were used to call the _Lord's Rake_, only +narrower--that ran back into the field and shelved out gently at the +top, so that a man might easily scramble some way down it, tho' how far +I could not then tell. And 'twas from this fissure that the glow came. + +Along the right lip of this Billy led me, skirting it by a couple of +yards, and wriggling on his belly like a blind worm. Crawling closer now +(for 'twas hard to see him against the black turf), I stopp'd beside him +and strove to quiet the violence of my breathing. Then, after a minute's +pause, together we pulled ourselves to the edge, and peer'd over. + +The descent of the gully was broken, some eight feet below us, by a +small ledge, sloping outward about six feet (as I guess), and screen'd +by branches of the wild tamarisk. At the back, in an angle of the +solid rock, was now set a pan pierced with holes, and full of burning +charcoal: and over this a man in the rebels' uniform was stooping. + +He had a small paper parcel in his left hand, and was blowing at the +charcoal with all his might. Holding my breath, I heard him clearly, +but could see nothing of his face, for his back was toward us, all sable +against the glow. The charcoal fumes as they rose chok'd me so, that +I was very near a fit of coughing, when Billy laid one hand on my +shoulder, and with the other pointed out to seaward. + +Looking that way, I saw a small light shining on the sea, pretty close +in. 'Twas a lantern hung out from the sloop, as I concluded on the +instant: and now I began to have an inkling of what was toward. + +But looking down again at the man with the charcoal pan I saw a black +head of hair lifted, and then a pair of red puff'd cheeks, and a pimpled +nose with a scar across the bridge of it--all shining in the glare of +the pan. + +“Powers of Heaven!” I gasped; “'tis that bloody villain Luke Settle!” + +And springing to my feet, I took a jump over the edge and came sprawling +on top of him. The scoundrel was stooping with his nose close to the +pan, and had not time to turn before I lit with a thud on his shoulders, +flattening him on the ledge and nearly sending his face on top of the +live coal. 'Twas so sudden that, before he could so much as think, my +fingers were about his windpipe, and the both of us struggling flat on +the brink of the precipice. For he had a bull's strength, and heaved and +kicked, so that I fully looked, next moment, to be flying over the edge +into the sea: nor could I loose my grip to get out a pistol, but only +held on and worked my fingers in, and thought how he had strangled the +mastiff that night on the bowling-green, and vowed to serve him the same +if only strength held out. + +But now, just as he had almost twisted his neck free, I heard a stone or +two break away above us, and down came Billy Pottery flying atop of us, +and pinned us to the ledge. + +'Twas short work now. Within a minute, Captain Luke Settle was turned +on his back, his eyes fairly starting with Billy's clutch on his throat, +his mouth wide open and gasping; till I slipp'd the nozzle of my pistol +between his teeth; and with that he had no more chance, but gave in, and +like a lamb submitted to have his arms truss'd behind him with Billy's +leathern belt, and his legs with his own. + +“Now,” said I, standing over him, and putting the pistol against his +temple, “you and I, Master Turncoat Settle, have some accounts that +'twould be well to square. So first tell me, what do you here, and where +is Mistress Delia Killigrew?” + +I think that till this moment the bully had no idea his assailants were +more than a chance couple of Cornish troopers. But now seeing the glow +of the burning charcoal on my face, he ripped out a horrid blasphemous +curse, and straightway fell to speaking calmly. + +“Good sirs, the game is yours, with care. S'lid! but you hold a pretty +hand--if only you know how to play it.” + +“'Tis you shall help me, Captain: but let us be clear about the stakes. +For you, 'tis life or death: for me, 'tis to regain Mistress Delia, +failing which I shoot you here through the head, and topple you into the +sea. You are the Knave of trumps, sir, and I play that card: as matters +now stand, only the Queen can save you.” + +“Right: but where be King and Ace?” + +“The King is the Cornish army, yonder: the Ace is my pistol here, which +I hold.” + +“And that's a very pretty comprehension of the game, sir: I play the +Queen.” + +“Where is she?” + +For answer, he pointed seaward, where the sloop's lantern lay like a +floating star on the black waters. + +“What!” cried I. “Mistress Delia in that sloop! And who is with her, +pray?” + +“Why, Black Dick, to begin with--and Reuben Gedges--and Jeremy Toy.” + +“All the Knaves left in the pack--God help her!” I muttered, as I look'd +out toward the light, and my heart beat heavily. “God help her!” I said +again, and turning, spied a grin on the Captain's face. + +“Under Providence,” answered he, “your unworthy servant may suffice. But +what is my reward to be?” + +“Your neck,” said I, “if I can save it when you are led before the +Cornish captains.” + +“That's fair enough: so listen. These few months the lady has been shut +in Bristol keep, whither, by the advice of our employer, we conveyed her +back safe and sound. This same employer--” + +“A dirty rogue, whom you may as well call by his name--Hannibal +Tingcomb.” + +“Right, young sir: a very dirty rogue, and a niggardly:--I hate a mean +rascal. Well, fearing her second escape from that prison, and being hand +in glove with the Parliament men, he gets her on board a sloop bound for +the Virginias, just at the time when he knows the Earl of Stamford is to +march and crush the Cornishmen. For escort she has the three comrades of +mine that I named: and the captain of the sloop (a fellow that asks no +questions) has orders to cruise along the coast hereabouts till he gets +news of the battle.” + +“Which you were just now about to give him,” cried I, suddenly +enlighten'd. + +“Right again. 'Twas a pretty scheme: for--d'ye see?--if all went +well with the Earl of Stamford, the King's law would be wiped out in +Cornwall, and Master Tingcomb (with his claims and meritorious services) +might snap his thumb thereat. So, in that case, Mistress Delia was to be +brought ashore here and taken to him, to serve as he fancied. But if the +day should go against us--as it has--she was to sail to the Virginias +with the sloop, and there be sold as a slave. Or worse might happen; but +I swear that is the worst was ever told me.” + +“God knows 'tis vile enough,” said I, scarce able to refrain from +blowing his brains out. “So you were to follow the Earl's army, and work +the signals. Which are they?” For a quick resolve had come into my head, +and I was casting about to put it into execution. + +“A green light if we won: if not, a red light, to warn the sloop away.” + +I picked up the packet that had dropp'd from his hand when first I +sprang upon him. It was burst abroad, and a brown powder trickling from +it about the ledge. + +“This was the red light--to be sprinkled on the burning charcoal, I +suppose?” + +The fellow nodded. At the same moment, Billy (who as yet had not spoke +a word, and of course, understood nothing) thrust into my hand another +packet that he had found stuck in a corner against the rock. + +“Now tell me--in case the rebels won, where was the landing to be made?” + +“In the cove below here--where the road leads down.” + +“Aye, the road where the wagon stood.” + +Captain Luke Settle blink'd his eyes at this: but nodded after a moment. + +“And how many would escort her?” + +He caught my drift and laughed softly--- + +“Be damn'd, sir, but I begin to love you, for you play the game very +proper and soundly. Reuben, Jeremy, and Black Dick alone are in the +plot; so why should more escort her? For the skipper and crew have their +own business to look after.” + +“Then, Master Settle, tho' it be a sore trial to you, those three Knaves +you must give me, or I play my Ace,” and I pressed the ring of my pistol +sharply against his ear as a reminder. + +“With all my heart, young sir, you shall have them,” says he briskly. + +“And this is 'honor among thieves,'” thought I: “You would sell your +comrade as you sold your King:” but only said, “If you cry out, or speak +one word to warn them--” + +Before I could get my sentence out, Billy Pottery broke in with a voice +like a trumpet-- + +“As folks go, Jack, I be a humorous man. But sittin' here, an' ponderin' +this way an' that, I says, in my deaf an' afflicted style, 'Why not +shoot the ugly rogue, if mirth, indeed, be your object?' For to wait +till an uglier comes to this untravel'd spot is superfluity.” + +How to explain matters to Billy was more than I could tell: but in a +moment he himself supplied the means. For the rocks here were of some +kind of slate, very hard, but scaly: and finding two pieces, a large and +a small, he handed them to me, bawling that I was to write therewith. So +giving him my pistol, I made shift to scribble a few words. Seeing his +eyes twinkle as he read, I stood up. + +The charcoal by this time was a glowing mass of red: and threw so clear +a light on us that I feared the crew on board the sloop might see +our forms and suspect their misadventure. But the lantern still hung +steadily: so signing to Billy to drag our prisoner behind a tamarisk +bush, I open'd the second packet, and poured some of the powder into my +hand. + +It was composed of tiny crystals, yellow and flaky: and holding it, +for a moment I was possessed with a horrid fear that this might be the +signal to warn the sloop away. I flung a look at the Captain: who read +my thoughts on the instant. + +“Never fear, young sir: am no such hero as to sell my life for that +tag-rag. Only make haste, for your deaf friend has a cursed ugly way of +fumbling his pistol.” + +So taking heart, I tore the packet wide, and shook out the powder on the +coals. + +Instantly there came a dense choking vapor, and a vivid green flare that +turned the rocks, the sky, and our faces to a ghastly brilliance. For +two minutes, at least, this unnatural light lasted. As soon as it died +away and the fumes clear'd, I look'd seaward. + +The lantern on the sloop was moving in answer to the signal. Three times +it was lifted and lower'd: and then in the stillness I heard voices +calling, and soon after the regular splash of oars. + +There was no time to be lost. Pulling the Captain to his feet, we +scrambled up the gully, and out at the top, and across the fields as +fast as our legs would take us. Molly came to my call and trotted beside +me--the Captain following some paces behind, and Billy last, to keep a +safe watch on his movements. + +At the gate, however, where we turned into the road, I tethered the +mare, lest the sound of her hoofs should betray us: and down toward +the sea we pelted, till almost at the foot of the hill I pull'd up and +listen'd, the others following my example. + +We could hear the sound of oars plain above the wash of waves on the +beach. I look'd about me. On either side the road was now bank'd by tall +hills, with clusters of bracken and furze bushes lying darkly on +their slopes. Behind one of these clusters I station'd Billy with the +Captain's long sword, and a pistol that I by signs forbade him to fire +unless in extremity. Then, retiring some forty paces up the road, I hid +the Captain and myself on the other side. + +Hardly were we thus disposed, before I heard the sound of a boat +grounding on the beach below, and the murmur of voices; and then the +noise of feet trampling the shingle. Upon which I ordered my prisoner to +give a hail, which he did readily. + +“Ahoy, Dick! Ahoy, Reuben Gedges!” + +In a moment or two came the answer-- + +“Ahoy, there, Captain--here we be!” + +“Fetch along the cargo!” shouted Captain Settle, on my prompting. + +“Where be you?” + +“Up the road, here--waiting!” + +“One minute, then--wait one minute, Captain!” + +I heard the boat push'd off, some _Good-nights_ call'd, and then (with +tender anguish) the voice of my Delia lifted in entreaty. As I guess'd, +she was beseeching the sailors to take her back to the sloop, nor leave +her to these villains. There follow'd an oath or two growl'd out, a +short scrimmage, and at last, above the splash of the retreating boat, +came the tramp of heavy feet on the road below. + +So fired was I at the sound of Delia's voice, that 'twas with much ado +I kept quiet behind the bush. Yet I had wit enough left to look to the +priming of my pistol, and also to bid the Captain shout again. As he +did so, a light shone out down the road, and round the corner came a man +bearing a lantern. + +“Can't be quicker, Captain,” he called: “the jade struggles so that Dick +and Jeremy ha' their hands full.” + +Sure enough, after him there came in view two stooping forms that bore +my dear maid between them--one by the feet, the other by the shoulders. +I ground my teeth to see it, for she writhed sorely. On they came, +however, until not more than ten paces off; and then that traitor, Luke +Settle, rose up behind our bush. + +“Set her here, boys,” said he, “and tie her pretty ankles.” + +“Well met, Captain!” said the fellow with the lantern--Reuben +Gedges--stepping forward; “Give us your hand!” + +He was holding out his own, when I sprang up, set the pistol close +to his chest, and fired. His scream mingled with the roar of it, and +dropping the lantern, he threw up his hands and tumbled in a heap. At +the same moment, out went the light, and the other rascals, dropping +Delia, turn'd to run, crying, “Sold--sold!” + +But behind them came now a shout from Billy, and a crashing blow that +almost severed Black Dick's arm at the shoulder: and at the same instant +I was on Master Toy's collar, and had him down in the dust. Kneeling on +his chest, with my sword point at his throat, I had leisure to glance at +Billy, who in the dark, seem'd to be sitting on the head of his disabled +victim. And then I felt a touch on my shoulder, and a dear face peer'd +into mine. + +“Is it Jack--my sweet Jack?” + +“To be sure,” said I: “and if you but reach out your hand, I will kiss +it, for all that I'm busy with this rogue.” + +“Nay, Jack, I'll kiss thee on the cheek--so! Dear lad, I am so +frighten'd, and yet could laugh for joy!” + +But now I caught the sound of galloping on the road above, and shouts, +and then more galloping; and down came a troop of horsemen that were +like to have ridden over us, had I not shouted lustily. + +“Who, in the fiend's name is here?” shouted the foremost, pulling in his +horse with a scramble. + +“Honest men and rebels together,” I answered; “but light the lantern +that you will find handy by, and you shall know one from t'other.” + +By the time 'twas found and lit, there was a dozen of Col. John Digby's +dragoons about us: and before the two villains were bound, comes a half +dozen more, leading in Captain Settle, that had taken to his heels at +the first blow and climb'd the hill, all tied as he was about the hands, +and was caught in his endeavor to clamber on Molly's back. So he and +Black Dick and Jeremy Toy were strapp'd up: but Reuben Gedges we left +on the road for a corpse. Yet he did not die (though shot through the +lung), but recovered--heaven knows how: and I myself had the pleasure to +see him hanged at Tyburn, in the second year of his late Majesty's most +blessed Restoration, for stopping the Bishop of Salisbury's coach, in +Maidenhead Thicket, and robbing the Bishop himself, with much added +contumely. + +But as we were ready to start, and I was holding Delia steady on Molly's +back, up comes Billy and bawls in my ear--- + +“There's a second horse, if wanted, that I spied tether'd under a hedge +younder”--and he pointed to the field where we had first found Captain +Settle--“in color a sad black, an' harness'd like as if he came from a +cart.” + +I look'd at the Captain, who in the light of the lantern blink'd again. +“Thou bloody villain!” muttered I, for now I read the tragedy of the +wagon beside the road, and knew how Master Settle had provided a horse +for his own escape. + +But hereupon the word was given, and we started up the hill, I walking +by Delia's stirrup and listening to her talk as if we had never been +parted--yet with a tenderer joy, having by loss of it learn'd to +appraise my happiness aright. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE. + + +We came, a little before midnight, to Sir Bevill's famous great house +of Stow, near Kilkhampton: that to-night was brightly lit and full of +captains and troopers feasting, as well they needed to, after the great +victory. And here, though loth to do so, I left Delia to the care of +Lady Grace Grenville, Sir Bevill's fond beautiful wife, and of all +gentlewomen I have ever seen the pink and paragon, as well for her loyal +heart as the graces of her mind: who, before the half of our tale was +out, kissed Delia on both cheeks, and led her away. “To you too, sir, +I would counsel bed,” said she, “after you have eaten and drunk, and +especially given God thanks for this day's work.” + +Sir Bevill I did not see, but striding down into the hall, picked my +way among the drinking and drunken; the servants hurrying with dishes of +roast and baked and great tankards of beer; the swords and pikes flung +down under the forms and settles, and sticking out to trip a man up; and +at length found a groom who led me to a loft over one of the barns: and +here, above a mattress of hay, I slept the first time for many months +between fresh linen that smell'd of lavender, and in thinking how +pleasant 'twas, dropped sound asleep. + +Sure there is no better, sweeter couch than this of linen spread over +hay. Early in the morning, I woke with wits clear as water, and not an +ache or ounce of weariness in my bones: and after washing at the pump +below, went in search of breakfast and Sir Bevill. The one I found, +ready laid, in the hall; the other seated in his writing-room, studying +in a map; and with apology for my haste, handed him Master Tingcomb's +confession and told my story. + +When 'twas over, Sir Bevill sat pondering, and after a while said, very +frankly---- + +“As a magistrate I can give this warrant; and 'twould be a pleasure, for +well, as a boy, do I remember Deakin Killigrew. Young sir----” he +rose up, and taking a turn across the room, came and laid a hand on my +shoulder, “I have seen his daughter. Is it too late to warn you against +loving her?” + +“Why yes,” I answer'd blushing: “I think it is.” + +“She seems both sweet and quaint. God forbid I should say a word against +one that has so taken me! But in these times a man should stand alone: +to make a friend is to run the chance of a soft heart: to marry a wife +makes the chance sure----” + +He broke off, and went on again with a change of tone---- + +“For many reasons I would blithely issue this warrant. But how am I to +spare men to carry it out? At any moment we may be assail'd.” + +“If that be your concern, sir,” answer'd I, “give me the warrant. I have +a good friend here, a seafaring man, whose vessel lies at this moment +in Looe Haven, with a crew on board that will lay Master Tingcomb by the +heels in a trice. Within three days we'll have him clapp'd in Launceston +Jail, and there at the next Assize you shall sit on the Grand Jury and +hear his case, by which time, I hope, the King's law shall run on easier +wheels in Cornwall. The prisoners we have already I leave you to deal +withal: only, against my will, I must claim some mercy for that rogue, +Settle.” + +To this Sir Bevill consented; and, to be short, the three knaves were +next morning pack'd off to Launceston: but in time, no evidence being +brought against them, regained their freedom, which they used to come +to the gallows, each in his own way. Their doings no longer concern this +history, and so I gladly leave them. + +To return, then, to my proper tale, 'twas not ten minutes before I +had the warrant in my pocket. And by eleven o'clock (word having been +carried to Delia, and our plans laid before Billy Pottery, who on the +spot engaged himself to help us) our horses were brought round to the +gate, and my mistress appear'd, all ready for the journey. For tho' +assured that the work needed not her presence, and that she had best +wait at Stow till Master Tingcomb was smok'd out of his nest, she would +have none of it, but was set on riding with me to see justice done on +this fellow, of whose villainy I had told her much the night before. And +glad I was of her choice, as I saw her standing on the entrance steps, +fresh as a rose, and in a fit habit once more: for Lady Grace had lent +not only her own bay horse, but also a riding dress and hat of grey +velvet to equip her: and stood in the porch to wish us _Godspeed!_ while +Sir Bevill help'd Delia to the saddle. + +So, with Billy tramping behind us, away we rode up the combe, where +Kilkhampton tower stood against the sky; and turning to wave hands at +the top, found our host and hostess still by the gate, watching us, with +hands rais'd to shield their eyes from the sun. + +The whole petty tale of this day's ride I shall not dwell upon. Indeed, +I scarcely noted the miles as they pass'd. For all the way we were +chattering, Delia telling me how Captain Settle and his gang had hurried +her (tho' without indignity) across Dartmoor to Ashburton, thence to +Lynton in North Devon, and so along the coast of Somerset to Bristol; +how they there produced a paper, at sight of which Sir Nathaniel +Fiennes, the new Governor, kept her under lock and key. And thus she +remained four months, at the end of which time they convey'd her on +board a sloop, call'd the _Fortitude_, and bound for the Virginias, +with the result that has been told. To all of which I listened greedily, +stealing from time to time a look at her shape, that on horseback was +graceful as a willow, and into her eyes that, under the flapping grey +brim, were gay and fancy-free as ever. + +“And did you,” asked I, “never at heart chide me for leaving you so!” + +“Why no. I never took thee for a conjurer, Jack.” + +“But, at least, you thought of me,” I urged. + +“Oh, dear--oh, dear!” She pull'd rein and look'd at me: “I remember now +that last night I kiss'd thee. Forget it, Jack: last night, so glad was +I to be sav'd, I could have kiss'd a cobbler. Indeed, Jack,” she went +on seriously, “I would that some maid had got hold of thee, in all these +months, to cure thy silly notions!” + +At Launceston, Billy Pottery took leave of us: and now went, due south, +toward Looe, with a light purse and lighter heart, undertaking that +his ship should lie off Gleys, with her crew ready for action, within +eight-and-forty hours. Delia and I rode faster now toward the southwest: +and having by this time recover'd my temper, I was recounting my flight +along this very road, when I heard a sound that brought my heart into my +mouth. + +'Twas the blast of a bugle, and came from behind the hill in front +of us. And at the same moment I understood. It must be Sir George +Chudleigh's cavalry returning, on news of their comrades' defeat, and we +were riding straight toward them, as into a trap. + +Now what could have made me forgetful of this danger I cannot explain, +unless it be that our thorough victory over the rebels had given me the +notion that the country behind us was clear of foes. And Sir Bevill +must have had a notion we were going straight to Looe with Billy. At +any rate, there was no time to be lost: for my presence was a danger to +Delia as well. I cast a glance about me. There was no place to hide. + +“Quick!” I cried; “follow me, and ride for dear life!” + +And striking spur into Molly I turn'd sharp off the road and gallop'd +across the moor to the left, with Delia close after me. + +We had gone about two hundred yards only when I heard a shout, and +glancing over my right shoulder, saw a green banner waving on the crest +of the road, and gathered about it the vanguard of the troop--some score +of dragoons: and these, having caught sight of us, were pausing a moment +to watch. + +The shout presently was followed by another; to which I made no answer, +but held on my way, with the nose of Delia's horse now level with my +stirrup: for I guess'd that my dress had already betrayed us. And this +was the case; for at the next glance I saw five or six dragoons detach +themselves from the main body, and gallop in a direction at an acute +angle to ours. On they came, yelling to us to halt, and scattering over +the moor to intercept us. + +Not choosing, however, to be driven eastward, I kept a straight course +and trusted to our horses' fleetness to carry us by them, out of reach +of their shot. In the pause of their first surprise we had stolen two +hundred yards more. I counted and found eight men thus in pursuit of +us: and to my joy heard the bugle blown again, and saw the rest of the +troop, now gathering fast above, move steadily along the road without +intention to follow. Doubtless the news of the Cornish success made them +thus wary of their good order. + +[Illustration: two arrows] + +Still, eight men were enough to run from; and now the nearest let fly +with his piece--more to frighten us, belike, than with any other view, +for we were far out of range. But it grew clear that if we held on our +direction they must cut us off: as you may see by these two arrows, the +long thin one standing for our own course, the thicker and shorter for +that of the dragoons. + +Only now with good hope I saw a hill rising not half a mile in front, +and somewhat to the right of our course: and thought I “if we can gain +the hollow to the left of it, and put the hill between us, they must +ride over it or round--in either case losing much time.” So, pointing +this out to Delia, who rode on my left (to leave my pistol arm free and +at the same time be screen'd by me from shot of the dragoons) I drove my +spurs deep and called to Molly to make her best pace. + +The enemy divin'd our purpose: and in a minute 'twas a desperate race +for the entrance to the hollow. But our horses were the faster, and we +the lighter riders; so that we won, with thirty yards to spare, from the +foremost:--not without damage, however; for finding himself baulked, +he sent a bullet at us which cut neatly through my off rein, so that my +bridle was henceforward useless and I could guide Molly with knee and +voice alone. Delia's bay had shied at the sound of it, and likely enough +saved my mistress' life by this; for the bullet must have pass'd within +a foot before her. + +Down the hollow we raced with three dragoons at our heels, the rest +going round the hill. But they did little good by so doing, for after +the hollow came a broad, dismal sheet of water (by name Dozmare Pool, +I have since heard) about a mile round and bank'd with black peat. +Galloping along the left shore of this, we cut them off by near half a +mile. But the three behind followed doggedly, though dropping back with +every stride. + +Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, which +we jump'd easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the further side, I +noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes brimful of mirth. + +“Say, Jack,” she cried; “is not this better than love of women?” + +“In Heaven's name,” I called out, “take care!” + +But 'twas too late. The green valley here melted into a treacherous bog, +in the which her bay was already plunging over his fetlocks, and every +moment sinking deeper. + +“Throw me the rein!” I shouted, and catching the bridle close by the +bit, lean'd over and tried to drag the horse forward. By this, Molly +also was over hoofs in liquid mud. For a minute and more we heav'd and +splashed: and all the while the dragoons, seeing our fix, were shouting +and drawing nearer and nearer. But just as a brace of bullets splashed +into the slough at our feet, we stagger'd to the harder slope, and were +gaining on them again. So for twenty minutes along the spurs of the +hills, we held on, the enemy falling back and hidden, every now and +again, in the hollows--but always following: at the end of which time, +Delia call'd from just behind me-- + +“Jack--here's a to-do: the bay is going lame!” + +There was no doubt of it. I suppose he must have wrung his off hind leg +in fighting through the quag. Any way, ten minutes more would see the +end of his gallop. But at this moment we had won to the top of a +stiff ascent: and now, looking down at our feet, I had the joyfullest +surprise. + +'Twas the moor of Temple spread below like a map, the low sun striking +on the ruin'd huts to the left of us, on the roof of Joan's cottage, on +the scar of the high road, and the sides of the tall tor above it. + +“In ten minutes,” said I, “we may be safe.” + +So down into the plain we hurried: and I thought for the first time of +the loyal girl waiting in the cottage yonder; of my former ride into +Temple; and (with angry shame) of the light heart with which I left it. +To what had the summoning drums and trumpets led me? Where was the new +life, then so carelessly prevented? But two days had gone, and here was +I running to Joan for help, as a child to his mother. + +Past the peat-ricks we struggled, the sheep-cotes, the straggling +fences--all so familiar; cross'd the stream and rode into the yard. + +“Jump down,” I whisper'd: “we have time, and no more.” Glancing back, I +saw a couple of dragoons already coming over the heights. They had spied +us. + +Dismounting I ran to the cottage door and flung it open. A stream of +light, flung back against the sun, blazed into my eyes. + +I rubbed them and halted for a moment stock-still. + +For Joan stood in front of me, dress'd in the very clothes I had worn +on the day we first met--buff-coat, breeches, heavy boots, and all. Her +back was toward me, and at the shoulder, where the coat had been cut +away from my wound, I saw the rents all darn'd and patch'd with pack +thread. In her hand was the mirror I had given her. + +At the sound of my step on the threshold she turn'd with a short cry--a +cry the like of which I have never heard, so full was it of choking joy. +The glass dropp'd to the floor and was shatter'd. In a second her +arms were about me, and so she hung on my neck, sobbing and laughing +together. + +“'Twas true--'twas true! Dear, dear Jack--dear Jack to come to me: hold +me tighter, tighter--for my very heart is bursting!” + +And behind me a shadow fell on the doorway: and there stood Delia +regarding us. + +“Good lad--all yesterday I swore to be strong and wait for years, if +need be. Fie on womankind, to be so weak! All day I sat an' sat, an' did +never a mite o' work--never set hand to a tool: an' by sunset I gave in +an' went, cursing mysel', over the moor to Warleggan, to Alsie Pascoe, +the wise woman--an' she taught me a charm--an' bless her, bless her, +Jack, for't hath brought thee!” + +“Joan,” said I, hot with shame, taking her arms gently from my neck: +“listen: I come because I am chased. Once more the dragooners are after +me--not five minutes away. You must lend me a horse, and at once.” + +“Nay,” said a voice in the doorway, “the horse, if lent, is for _me!_” + +Joan turn'd, and the two women stood looking at each other;--the one +with dark wonder, the other with cold disdainfulness--and I between them +scarce lifting my eyes. Each was beautiful after her kind, as day and +night: and though their looks cross'd for a full minute like drawn +blades, neither had the mastery. Joan was the first to speak. + +“Jack, is thy mare in the yard?” + +I nodded. + +“Give me thy pistols and thy cloak.” She stepp'd to the window hole at +the end of the kitchen, and look'd out. “Plenty o' time,” she said; and +pointed to the ladder leading to the loft above--“Climb up there, the +both, and pull the ladder after. Is't _thou_, they want--or _she?_” + pointing to Delia. + +“Me chiefly they would catch, no doubt--being a man,” I answer'd. + +“Aye--bein' a man: the world's full o' folly. Then Jack do thou look +after _her_, an' I'll look after _thee_. If the rebels leave thee in +peace, make for the Jews' Kitchen and there abide me.” + +She flung my cloak about her, took my pistols and went out at the door. +As she did so, the sun sank and a dull shadow swept over the moor. +“Joan!” I cried, for now I guess'd her purpose and was following to +hinder her: but she had caught Molly's bridle and was already astride of +her. “Get back!” she call'd softly; and then, “I make a better lad +than wench, Jack,”--leap'd the mare through a gap in the wall, and in a +moment was breasting the hill and galloping for the high road. + +In less than a minute, as it seem'd, I heard a pounding of hoofs, and +had barely time to follow Delia up the ladder and pull it after me, when +two of the dragoons rode skurrying by the house, and pass'd on yelling. +Their cries were hardly faint in the distance before there came another +three. + +“'A's a lost man, now, for sure,” said one: “Be dang'd if 'a's not took +the road back to Lan'son!” + +“How 'bout the gal?” ask'd another voice. “Here's her horse i' the +yard.” + +“Drat the gal! Sam, go thou an' tackle her: reckon thou'rt warriors enow +for one 'ooman.” + +The two hasten'd on: and presently I heard the one they call'd “Sam” + dismounting in the yard. Now there was a window hole in the loft, +facing, not on the yard, but toward the country behind; and running +to it I saw that no more were following--the other three having, as I +suppose, early given up the chase. Softly pulling out a loose stone or +two, I widen'd this hole till I could thrust the ladder out of it. To my +joy it just reach'd the ground. I bade Delia squeeze herself through and +climb down. + +But before she was halfway down I heard a wild screech in the kitchen +below, and the voice of Sam shrieking--- + +“Help--help! Lord ha' mercy 'pon me--'tis a black cat--'tis a witch! The +gal's no gal, but a witch!” + +Laughing softly, I was descending the ladder when the fellow came round +the corner screaming--with Jan Tergagle clawing at his back and spitting +murderously. Delia had just time to slip aside, before he ran into +the ladder and brought me flying on top of him. And there he lay and +bellow'd till I tied him, and gagg'd his noise with a big stone in his +mouth and his own scarf tied round it. + +“Come!” I whisper'd: for Joan and her pursuers were out of sight. +Catching up her long skirt, Delia follow'd me, and up the tor we panted +together, nor rested till we were safe in the Jews' Kitchen. + +“What think you of this for a hiding place?” ask'd I, with a laugh. + +But Delia did not laugh. Instead, she faced me with blazing eyes, +check'd herself and answer'd, cold as ice--- + +“Sir, you have done me a many favors. How I have trusted you in return +it were best for you to remember, and for me to forget.” + + * * * * * + +The dark drew on; the western star grew distinct and hung flashing over +against our hiding; and still we sat there, hour after hour, silent, +angry, waiting for Joan's return, Delia at the entrance of the den, +chin on hand, scanning the heavens and never once turning toward me; I +further inside, with my arms cross'd, raging against myself and all the +world, yet with a sick'ning dread that Joan would never come back. + +As the time lagg'd by, this terror grew and grew. But, as I think, about +ten o'clock, I heard steps coming over the turf. I ran out. 'Twas Joan +herself and leading Molly by the bridle. She walk'd as if tir'd, and +leaving the mare at the entrance, follow'd me into the cave. Glancing +round, I noted that Delia had slipp'd away. + +“Am glad she's gone,” said Joan shortly: “How many rebels pass'd this +way, Jack?” + +“Five, counting one that lies gagg'd and bound, down at the cottage.” + +“That leaves four:”--she stretch'd herself on the ground with a +sigh--“four that'll never trouble thee more, lad.” + +“Why? how--” + +“Listen, lad: sit down an' let me rest my head 'pon thy knee. Oh, Jack, +I did it bravely! Eight good miles an' more I took the mare--by the +Four--hol'd Cross, an' across the moor past Tober an' Catshole, an' over +Brown Willy, an' round Roughtor to the nor'-west: an' there lies the +bravest quag--oh, a black, bottomless hole!--an' into it I led them; an' +there they lie, every horse, an' every mother's son, till Judgment Day.” + +“Dead?” + +“Aye--an' the last twain wi' a bullet apiece in their skulls. Oh, rare! +Dear heart--hold my head--so, atween thy hands. 'Put on his cast off +duds,' said Alsie, 'an' stand afore the glass, sayin' “Come, true man!” + nine-an'-ninety time.' I was mortal 'feard o' losin' count; but afore I +got to fifty, I heard thy step an'--hold me closer, Jack.” + +“But Joan, are these men dead, say you?” + +“Surely, yes. Why, lad, what be four rebels, up or down, to make this +coil over? Hast never axed after _me!”_ + +“Joan--you are not hurt?” + +In the darkness I sought her eyes, and, peering into them, drew back. + +“Joan!” + +“Hush, lad--bend down thy head, and let me whisper. I went too near--an' +one, that was over his knees, let fly wi' his musket--an' Jack, I have +but a minute or two. Hush lad, hush--there's no call! Wert never the +man could ha' tam'd me--art the weaker, in a way: forgie the word, for I +lov'd thee so, boy Jack!” + +Her arms were drawing down my face to her: her eyes dull with pain. + +“Feel, Jack--there--over my right breast. I plugg'd the wound wi' a peat +turf. Pull it out, for 'tis bleeding inwards, and hurts cruelly--pull it +out!” + +As I hesitated, she thrust her own hand in and drew it forth, leaving +the hot blood to gush. + +“An' now, Jack, tighter--hold me tighter. Kiss me--oh, what brave times! +Tighter, lad, an' call wi' me--'Church an' King!' Call, lad--'Church +an'--'” + +The warm arms loosen'd: the head sank back upon my lap. + +I look'd up. There was a shadow across the entrance, blotting out the +star of night. 'Twas Delia, leaning there and listening. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE. + + +The day-spring came at last, and in the sick light of it I went down to +the cottage for spade and pickaxe. In the tumult of my senses I hardly +noted that our prisoner, the dragoon, had contrived to slip his bonds +and steal off in the night. + +And then Delia, seeing me return with the sad tools on my shoulder, +spoke for the first time: + +“First, if there be a well near, fetch me two buckets of water, and +leave us for an hour.” + +Her voice was weary and chill: so that I dared not thank her, but did +the errand in silence. Then, but a dozen paces from the spot where +Joan's father lay, I dug a grave and strew'd it with bracken, and +heather, and gorse petals, that in the morning air smell'd rarely. And +soon after my task was done, Delia call'd me. + +In her man's dress Joan lay, her arms cross'd, her black tresses +braided, and her face gentler than ever 'twas in life. Over her wounded +breast was a bunch of some tiny pink flower, that grew about the tor. + +So I lifted her softly as once in this same place she had lifted me, +and bore her down the slope to the grave: and there I buried her, while +Delia knelt and pray'd, and Molly browsed, lifting now and then her head +to look. + +When all was done, we turn'd away, dry-eyed, and walked together to the +cottage. The bay horse was feeding on the moor below; and finding him +still too lame to carry Delia, I shifted the saddles, and mending the +broken rein, set her on Molly. The cottage door stood open, but we did +not enter; only look'd in, and seeing Jan Tergagle curl'd beside the +cold hearth, left him so. + +Mile after mile we pass'd in silence, Delia riding, and I pacing beside +her with the bay. At last, tortur'd past bearing, I spoke-- + +“Delia, have you nothing to say?” + +For a while she seem'd to consider: then, with her eyes fix'd on the +hills ahead, answered-- + +“Much, if I could speak: but all this has changed me somehow--'tis, +perhaps, that I have grown a woman, having been a girl--and need to get +used to it, and think.” + +She spoke not angrily, as I look'd for; but with a painful slowness that +was less hopeful. + +“But,” said I, “over and over you have shown that I am nought to you. +Surely--” + +“Surely I am jealous? 'Tis possible--yes, Jack, I am but a woman, and so +'tis certain.” + +“Why, to be jealous, you must love me!” + +She look'd at me straight, and answered very deliberate-- + +“Now that is what I am far from sure of.” + +“But, dear Delia, when your anger has cool'd--” + +“My anger was brief: I am disappointed, rather. With her last breath, +almost, Joan said you were weaker than she: she lov'd you better than I, +and read you clearer. You _are_ weak. Jack”--she drew in Molly, and let +her hand fall on my shoulder very kindly--“we have been comrades for +many a long mile, and I hope are honest good friends; wherefore I loathe +to say a harsh or ungrateful-seeming word. But you could not understand +that brave girl, and you cannot understand me: for as yet you do not +even know yourself. The knowledge comes slowly to a man, I think; to a +woman at one rush. But when it comes, I believe you may be strong. Now +leave me to think, for my head is all of a tangle.” + +Our pace was so slow (by reason of the lame horse), that a great part of +the afternoon was spent before we came in sight of the House of Gleys. +And truly the yellow sunshine bad flung some warmth about the naked +walls and turrets, so that Delia's home-coming seem'd not altogether +cheerless. But what gave us more happiness was to spy, on the blue water +beyond, the bright canvas of the _Godsend_, and to hear the cries and +stir of Billy Pottery's mariners as they haul'd down the sails. + +And Billy himself was on the lookout with his spyglass. For hardly +were we come to the beach when our signal--the waving of a white +kerchief--was answered by another on board; and within half an hour a +boat puts off, wherein, as she drew nearer, I counted eight fellows. + +They were (besides Billy), Matt. Soames, the master, Gabriel Hutchins, +Ned Masters, the black man Sampson, Ben Halliday, and two whose full +names I have forgot--but one was call'd Nicholas. And, after many warm +greetings, the boat was made fast, and we climbed up along the peninsula +together, in close order, like a little army. + +All this time there was no sign or sound about the House of Gleys to +show that anyone mark'd us or noted our movements. The gate was closed, +the windows stood shutter'd, as on my former visit: even the chimneys +were smokeless. Such effect had this desolation on our spirits, that +drawing near, we fell to speaking in whispers, and said Ned Masters-- + +“Now a man would think us come to bury somebody!” + +“He might make a worse guess,” I answer'd. + +Marching up to the gate, I rang a loud peal on the bell; and to my +astonishment, before the echoes had time to die away, the grating was +push'd back, and the key turn'd in the lock. + +“Step ye in--step ye in, good folks! A sorry day,--a day of sobs an' +tears an' afflicted blowings of the nose--when the grasshopper is +a burden an' the mourners go about seeking whom they may devour the +funeral meats. Y' are welcome, gentlemen.” + +'Twas the voice of my one-eyed friend, as he undid the bolts; and now +he stood in the gateway with a prodigious black sash across his canary +livery, so long that the ends of it swept the flagstones. + +“Is Master Tingcomb within?” I helped Delia to dismount, and gave our +two horses to a stable boy that stood shuffling some paces off. + +“Alas!” the old man heav'd a deep sigh, and with that began to hobble +across the yard. We troop'd after, wondering. At the house door he +turn'd--- + +“Sirs, there is cold roasted capons, an' a ham, an' radishes in +choice profusion for such as be not troubled wi' the wind: an' cordial +wines--alack the day!” + +He squeez'd a frosty tear from his one eye, and led us to a large bare +hall, hung round with portraits; where was a table spread with a plenty +of victuals, and horn-handled knives and forks laid beside plates of +pewter; and at the table a man in black, eating. He had straight hair +and a sallow face; and look'd up as we enter'd, but, groaning, in a +moment fell to again. + +“Eat, sirs,” the old servitor exhorted us: “alas! that man may take +nothing out o' the world!” + +I know not who of us was most taken aback. But noting Delia's sad +wondering face, as her eyes wander'd round the neglected room and rested +on the tatter'd portraits, I lost patience. + +“Our business is with Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” said I sharply. + +The straight-hair'd man look'd up again, his mouth full of ham. + +“Hush!”--he held his fork up, and shook his head sorrowfully: and I +wonder'd where I had Been him before. “Hast thou an angel's wings?” he +ask'd. + +“Why, no, sir; but the devil's own boots--as you shall find if I be not +answer'd.” + +“Young man--young man,” broke in the one-eyed butler: “our minister is a +good minister, an' speaks roundabout as such: but the short is, that my +master is dead, an' in his coffin.” + +“The mortal part,” corrected the minister, cutting another slice. + +“Aye, the immortal is a-trippin' it i' the New Jeroosalem: but the +mortal was very lamentably took wi' a fit, three days back--the same +day, young man, as thou earnest wi' thy bloody threats.” + +“A fit?” + +“Aye, sir, an' verily--such a fit as thou thysel' witness'd. 'Twas the +third attack--an' he cried, 'Oh!' he did, an' 'Ah!'--just like that. +'Oh!' an' then 'Ah!' Such were his last dyin' speech. 'Dear Master,' +says I, 'there's no call to die so hard:' but might so well ha' +whistled, for he was dead as nails. A beautiful corpse, sirs, dang my +buttons!” + +“Show him to us.” + +“Willingly, young man.” He led the way to the very room where Master +Tingcomb and I had held our interview. As before, six candles were +burning there: but the table was push'd into a corner, and now their +light fell on a long black coffin, resting on trestles in the centre of +the room. The coffin was clos'd, and studded with silver nails; on +the lid was a silver plate bearing these words written--“_Hannibal +Tingcomb_, MDCXLIII.,” with a text of Scripture below. + +“Why have you nail'd him down?” I asked. + +“Now where be thy bowels, young man, to talk so unfeelin'? An' where +be thy experience, not to know the ways o' thy blessed dead in summer +time?” + +“When do you bury him?” + +“To-morrow forenoon. The spot is two mile from here.” He blinked at me, +and hesitated for a minute. “Is it your purpose, sirs, to attend?” + +“Be sure of that,” I said grimly. “So have beds ready to-night for all +our company.” + +“All thy--! Dear sir, consider: where are beds to be found? Sure, thy +mariners can pass the night aboard their own ship?” + +“So then,” thought I, “you have been on the lookout;” but Delia replied +for me--- + +“I am Delia Killigrew, and mistress of this house. You will prepare the +beds as you are told.” Whereupon what does that decrepit old sinner but +drop upon his knees? + +“Mistress Delia! O goodly feast for this one poor eye! Oh, that Master +Tingcomb had seen this day!” + +I declare the tears were running down his nose; but Delia march'd out, +cutting short his hypocrisy. + +In the passage she whisper'd-- + +“Villainy, Jack!” + +“Hush!” I answered, “and listen: _Master Tingcomb is no more in that +coffin than I._” + +“Then where is he?” + +“That is just what we are to discover.” As I said this a light broke on +me. “By the Lord,” I cried, “'tis the very same!” + +Delia open'd her eyes wide. + +“Wait,” I said: “I begin to touch ground.” + +We returned to the great hall. The straight-hair'd man was still eating, +and opposite sat Billy, that had not budg'd, but now beckoning to me, +very mysterious, whisper'd in a voice that made the plates rattle-- + +“That's--a damned--rogue!” + +'Twas discomposing, but the truth. In fact, I had just solv'd a puzzle. +This holy-speaking minister was no other than the groom I had seen at +Bodmin Fair holding Master Tingcomb's horses. + +By this, the sun was down, and Delia soon made an excuse to withdraw to +her own room. Nor was it long before the rest followed her example. I +found our chambers prepared, near together, in a wing of the house at +some distance from the hall. Delia's was next to mine, as I made sure by +knocking at her door: and on the other side of me slept Billy with two +of his crew. My own bed was in a great room sparely furnish'd; and the +linen indifferent white. There was a plenty of clean straw, tho', on the +floor, had I intended to sleep--which I did not. + +Instead, having blown out my light, I sat on the bed's edge, listening +to the big clock over the hall as it chim'd the quarters, and waiting +till the fellows below should be at their ease. That Master Tingcomb +rested under the coffin lid, I did not believe, in spite of the +terrifying fit that I could vouch for. But this, if driven to it, we +could discover at the grave. The main business was to catch him; and +to this end I meant to patrol the buildings, and especially watch the +entrance, on the likely chance of his creeping back to the house (if not +already inside), to confer with his fellow-rascals. + +As eleven o'clock sounded, therefore, I tapp'd on Billy's wall; and +finding that Matt. Soames was keeping watch (as we had agreed upon), +slipp'd off my boots. Our rooms were on the first floor, over a straw +yard; and the distance to the ground an easy drop for a man. But wishing +to be silent as possible, I knotted two blankets together, and strapping +the end round the window mullion, swung myself down by one hand, holding +my boots in the other. + +I dropp'd very lightly, and look'd about. There was a faint moon up and +glimmering on the straw; but under the house was deep shadow, and along +this I crept. The straw yard led into the court before the stables, and +so into the main court. All this way I heard no sound, nor spied so much +as a speck of light in any window. The house door was clos'd, and the +bar fastened on the great gate across the yard. I turn'd the corner to +explore the third side of the house. + +Here was a group of outbuildings jutting out, and between them and the +high outer wall a narrow alley. 'Twas with difficulty I groped my way +here, for the passage was dark as pitch, and rendered the straiter by a +line of ragged laurels planted under the house; so that at every other +step I would stumble, and run my head into a bush. + +I had done this for the eighth time, and was cursing under my breath, +when on a sudden I heard a stealthy footfall coming down the alley +behind me. + +“Master Tingcomb, for a crown!” thought I, and crouch'd to one side +under a bush. The footsteps drew nearer. A dark form parted the laurels: +another moment, and I had it by the throat. + +“Uugh--ugh--grr! For the Lord's sake, sir,--” + +I loos'd my hold: 'twas Matt. Soames. “Your pardon,” whisper'd I; “but +why have you left your post?” + +“Black Sampson is watchin', so I took the freedom--ugh! my poor +windpipe!--to--” + +He broke off to catch me by the sleeve and pull me down behind the bush. +About twelve paces ahead I heard a door softly open'd and saw a shaft of +light flung across the path between the glist'ning laurels. As the ray +touch'd the outer wall, I mark'd a small postern gate there, standing +open. + +Cowering lower, we waited while a man might count fifty. Then came +footsteps crunching the gravel, and a couple of men cross'd the path, +bearing a large chest between them. In the light I saw the handle of a +spade sticking out from it: and by his gait I knew the second man to be +my one-ey'd friend. + +“Woe's my old bones!” he was muttering: “here's a fardel for a man o' my +years!” + +“Hold thy breath for the next load!” growl'd the other voice, which as +surely was the good minister's. + +They pass'd out of the small gate, and by the sounds that follow'd, +we guess'd they were hoisting their burden into a cart. Presently they +re-cross'd the path, and entered the house, shutting the door after +them. + +“Now for it!” said I in Matt's ear. Gliding forward, I peep'd out at the +postern gate; but drew back like a shot. + +I had almost run my head into a great black hearse, that stood there +with the door open, back'd against the gate, the heavy plumes nodding +above it in the night wind. + +Who held the horses I had not time to see: but whispering to Matt, to +give me a leg up, clamber'd inside. “Quick!” I pull'd him after, and +crept forward. I wonder'd the man did not hear us: but by good luck the +horses were restive, and by his maudlin talk to them I knew he was three +parts drunk--on the funeral wines, doubtless. + +I crept along, and found the tool chest stow'd against the further end: +so, pulling it gently out, we got behind it. Tho' Matt was the littlest +man of my acquaintance, 'twas the work of the world to stow ourselves in +such compass as to be hidden. By coiling up our limbs we managed it; but +only just before I caught the glimmer of a light and heard the pair of +rascals returning. + +They came very slow, grumbling all the way; and of course, I knew they +carried the coffin. + +“All right, Sim?” ask'd the minister. + +“Aye,” piped a squeaky voice by the horses heads ['twas the shuffling +stable boy), “aye, but look sharp! Lord, what sounds I've heerd! The +devil's i' the hearse, for sure!” + +“Now, Simmy,” the one-ey'd gaffer expostulated, “thou dostn' think the +smoky King is a-took in, same as they poor folks upstairs? Tee-hee! +Lord, what a trick!--to come for Master Tingcomb, an' find--aw +dear!--aw, bless my old ribs, what a thing is humor!” + +“Shut up!” grunted the minister. The end of the coffin was tilted up +into the hearse. “Push, old varmint!” + +“Aye-push, push! Where be my young, active sinews? What a shrivell'd +garment is all my comeliness! 'The devil inside,' says Simmy--haw, haw!” + +“Burn the thing! 'twon't go in for the tool box. Push, thou cackling old +worms!” + +“Now so I be, but my natural strength is abated. 'Yo-heave ho!' like the +salted seafardingers upstairs. Push, push!” + +“Oh, my inwards!” groans poor Matt, under his breath, into whom the +chest was squeezing sorely. + +“Right at last!” says the minister. “Now, Simmy, nay lad, hand the reins +an' jump up. There's room, an' you'll be wanted.” + +The door was clapp'd-to, the three rogues climb'd upon the seat in +front: and we started. + +I hope I may never be call'd to pass such another half hour as that +which follow'd. As soon as the wheels left turf for the hard road, 'twas +jolt, jolt all the way; and this lying mainly down hill, the chest and +coffin came grinding into our ribs, and pressing till we could scarce +breathe. And I dared not climb out over them, for fear the fellows +should hear us; their chuckling voices coming quite plain to us from the +other side of the panel. I held out, and comforted Matt, as well as I +could, feeling sure we should find Master Tingcomb at our journey's end. +Soon we climb'd a hill, which eas'd us a little; but shortly after were +bumping down again, and suffering worse than ever. + +“Save us,” moan'd Matt, “where will this end?” + +The words were scarce out, when we turn'd sharp to the right, with +a jolt that shook our teeth together, roll'd for a little while over +smooth grass, and drew up. + +I heard the fellows climbing down, and got my pistols out. + +“Simmy,” growl'd the minister, “where's the lantern?” + +There was a minute or so of silence, and then the snapping of flint and +steel, and the sound of puffing. + +“Lit, Simmy?” + +“Aye, here 'tis.” + +“Fetch it along then.” + +The handle of the door was turn'd, and a light flash'd into the hearse. + +“Here, hold the lantern steady! Come hither, old Squeaks, and help wi' +the end.” + +“Surely I will. Well was I call'd Young Look-alive when a gay, fleeting +boy. Simmy, my son, thou'rt sadly drunken. O youth, youth! Thou +winebibber, hold the light steady, or I'll tell thy mammy!” + +“Oh, sir, I do mortally dread the devil an' all his works!” + +“Now, if ever! The devil,' says he--an' Master Tingcomb still livin', +an' in his own house awaitin' us!” + +Be sure, his words were as good as a slap in the face to me. For I had +counted the hearse to lead me straight to Master Tingcomb himself. “In +his own house,” too! A fright seiz'd me for Delia. But first I must deal +with these scoundrels, who already were dragging out the coffin. + +“Steady there!” calls the minister. The coffin was more than halfway +outside. I levell'd my pistol over the edge of the tool chest, and +fetch'd a yell fit to wake a ghost--at the same time letting fly +straight for the minister. + +In the flash of the discharge, I saw him, half-turn'd, his eyes +starting, and mouth agape. He clapp'd his hand to his shoulder. On top +of his wild shriek, broke out a chorus of screams and oaths, in the +middle of which the coffin tilted up and went over with a crash. +“Satan--Satan!” bawled Simmy, and, dropping the lantern, took to his +heels for dear life. At the same moment the horses took fright; and +before I could scramble out, we were tearing madly away over the turf +and into the darkness. I had made a sad mess of it. + +It must have been a full minute before the hedge turn'd them, and gave +me time to drop out at the back and run to their heads. Matt. Soames +was after me, quick as thought, and very soon we mastered them, and +gathering up the reins from between their legs, led them back. As luck +would have it, the lantern had not been quench'd by the fall, but lay +flaring, and so guided us. Also a curious bright radiance seem'd growing +on the sky, for which I could not account. The three knaves were nowhere +to be seen, but I heard their footsteps scampering in the distance, and +Simmy still yelling “Satan!” I knew my bullet had hit the minister; but +he had got away, and I never set eyes on any of the three again. + +Leaving Matt to mind the horses, I caught up the lantern, and look'd +about me. As well as could be seen, we were in a narrow meadow between +two hills, whereof the black slopes rose high above us. Some paces to +the right, my ear caught the noise of a stream running. + +I turn'd the lantern on the coffin, which lay face downward, and with a +gasp took in the game those precious rogues had been playing. For, with +the fall of it, the boards (being but thin) were burst clean asunder; +and on both sides had tumbled out silver cups, silver saltcellars, +silver plates and dishes, that in the lantern's rays sparkled prettily +on the turf. The coffin, in short, was stuff'd with Delia's silverware. + +I had pick'd up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the +inscription, when Matt. Soames call'd to me, and pointed over the hill +in front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing. + +“Sure,” said he, “'tis a fire out yonder!” + +“God help us, Matt.--'tis the House of Gleys!” + +It took but two minutes to toss the silver back into the hearse. I +clapp'd-to the door, and snatching the reins, sprang upon the driver's +seat. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE. + + +We had some ado to find the gate: but no sooner were through, and upon +the high road, than I lash'd the horses up the hill at a gallop. To +guide us between the dark hedges we had only our lantern and the glare +ahead. The dishes and cups clash'd and rattled as the hearse bump'd in +the ruts, swaying wildly: a dozen times Matt, was near being pitch'd +clean out of his seat. With my legs planted firm, I flogg'd away like a +madman; and like mad creatures the horses tore upward. + +On the summit a glance show'd us all--the wild crimson'd sky--the sea +running with lines of fire--and against it the inky headland whereon +the House of Gleys flar'd like a beacon. Already from one wing--_our_ +wing--a leaping column of flame whirl'd up through the roof, and was +swept seaward in smoke and sparks. I mark'd the coast line, the cliff +tracks, the masts and hull of the _Godsend_ standing out, clear as day; +and nearer, the yellow light flickering over the fields of young corn. +We saw all this, and then were plunging down hill, with the blaze +full ahead of us. The heavy reek of it was flung in our nostrils as we +gallop'd. + +At the bottom we caught up a group of men running. 'Twas a boatload come +from the ship to help. As our horses swept past them, one or two came to +a terrified halt; but presently were running hard again after us. + +The great gate stood open. I drove straight into the bright-lit yard, +shouting “Delia!--where is Delia?” + +“Here!” call'd a voice; and from a group that stood under the glare of +the window came my dear mistress running. + +“All safe, Jack! But what--” She drew back from our strange equipage. + +“All in good time. First tell me--how came the fire?” + +“Why, foul work, as it seems. All I know is I was sleeping, and awoke to +hear the black seaman hammering on my door. Jumping up, I found the room +full of smoke, and escap'd. The rooms beneath, they say, were stuff'd +with straw, and the yard outside heap'd also with straw, and blazing. +Ben Halliday found two oil jars lying there--” + +“Are the horses out?” + +“Oh, Jack--I do not know! Shame on me to forget them!” + +I ran toward the stable. Already the roof was ablaze, and the straw +yard, beyond, a very furnace. Rushing in, I found the two horses +cowering in their stalls, bath'd in sweat, and squealing. But 'twas all +fright. So I fetch'd Molly's saddle, and spoke to her, and set it across +her back: and the sweet thing was quiet in a moment, turning her head to +rub my sleeve gently with her muzzle: and followed me out like a lamb. +The bay gave more trouble; but I sooth'd him in the same manner, and +patting his neck, led him, too, into safety. + +By this, all hope to save the house was over: for the well in the court +yielded but twenty buckets before it ran dry, and after that no water +was to be had. Of the wing where the fire burst out only the walls +stood, and a few oaken rafters, that one by one came tumbling and +crashing. The flames had spread along the roof, and were now licking the +ceiling of the hall and spouting around the clock tower. In the roar and +hubbub, Billy's men work'd like demons, dragging out chairs, chests, and +furniture of all kinds, which they strew'd in the yard, returning with +shouts for more. One was tearing down the portraits in the hall: another +was pulling out the great dresser from the kitchen: a third had found a +pile of tapestry and came staggering forth under the load of it. + +I had fasten'd the horses by the gate, and was ready to join in the +work, when a shout was rais'd--- + +“Billy!--Where's Billy Pottery? Has any seen the skipper?” + +“Sure,” I call'd, “you don't say he was never alarm'd!” + +“Black Sampson was in his room--where's Black Sampson?” + +“Here I be!” cried a voice. “To be sure I woke the skipper before any o' +ye.” + +“Then where's he hid? Did any see him come out?” + +“Now, that we have not!” answer'd one or two. + +I stood by the house door shouting these questions to the men inside, +when a hand was laid on my arm, and there in the shadow waited Billy +himself, with a mighty curious twinkle in his eye. He put a finger up +and signed that I should follow. + +We pass'd round the outbuildings where, three hours before, Matt. Soames +and I had hid together. I was minded to stop and pull on my boots, that +were hid here: but (and this was afterward the saving of me) on second +thoughts let them lie, and follow'd Billy, who now led me out by the +postern gate. + +Without speech we stepp'd across the turf, he a pace or two ahead. A +night breeze was blowing here, delicious after the heat of the fire. We +were walking quickly toward the east side of the headland, and soon +the blaze behind flung our shadows right to the cliff's edge, for which +Billy made straight, as if to fling himself over. + +But when, at the very verge, he pull'd up, I became enlighten'd. At +our feet was an iron bar driven into the soil, and to it a stout rope +knotted, that ran over a block and disappeared down the cliff. I knelt +and, pulling at it softly, look'd up. It came easy in the hand. + +Billy, with the glare in his face, nodded: and bending to my ear, for +once achiev'd a whisper. + +“Saw one stealing hither--an' follow'd. A man wi' a limp foot--went over +the side like a cat.” + +I must have appeared to doubt this good fortune, for he added--- + +“'Be a truth speakin' man i' the main, Jack--'lay over 'pon my belly, +and spied a ledge--fifty feet down or less--'reckon there be a way +thence to the foot. Dear, now! what a rampin', tearin' sweat is this?” + +For, fast as I could tug, I was hauling up the rope. Near sixty feet +came up before I reach'd the end--a thick twisted knot. I rove a long +noose; pull'd it over my head and shoulders, and made Billy understand +he was to lower me. + +“Sit i' the noose, lad, an' hold round the knot. For sign to hoist +again, tug the rope hard. I can hold.” + +He paid it out carefully while I stepp'd to the edge. With the noose +about my loins I thrust myself gently over, and in a trice hung swaying. + +On three sides the sky compass'd me--wild and red, save where to +eastward the dawn was paling: on the fourth the dark rocky face seem'd +gliding upward as Billy lower'd. Far below I heard the wash of the sea, +and could just spy the white spume of it glimmering. It stole some of +the heart out of me, and I took my eyes off it. + +Some feet below the top, the cliff fetch'd a slant inward, so that I +dangled a full three feet out from the face. As a boy I had adventured +something of this sort on the north sides of Gable and the Pillar, and +once (after a nest of eaglets) on the Mickledore cliffs: but then 'twas +daylight. Now, tho' I saw the ledge under me, about a third of the way +down, it look'd, in the darkness, to be so extremely narrow, that 'tis +probable I should have call'd out to Billy to draw me up but for the +certainty that he would never hear: so instead I held very tight and +wish'd it over. + +Down I sway'd (Billy letting out the rope very steady), and at last +swung myself inward to the ledge, gain'd a footing, and took a glance +round before slipping off the rope. + +I stood on a shelf of sandy rock that wound round the cliff some way to +my left, and then, as I thought, broke sharply away. 'Twas mainly about +a yard in width, but in places no more than two feet. In the growing +light I noted the face of the headland ribb'd with several of these +ledges, of varying length, but all hollow'd away underneath (as I +suppose by the sea in former ages), so that the cliff's summit overhung +the base by a great way: and peering over I saw the waves creeping right +beneath me. + +Now all this while I had not let Master Tingcomb out of my mind. So I +slipp'd off the rope and left it to dangle, while I crept forward to +explore, keeping well against the rock and planting my feet with great +caution. + +I believe I was twenty minutes taking as many steps, when at the point +where the ledge broke off I saw the ends of an iron ladder sticking up, +and close beside it a great hole in the rock, which till now the curve +of the cliff had hid. The ladder no doubt stood on a second shelf below. + +I was pausing to consider this, when a bright ray stream'd across +the sea toward me, and the red rim of the sun rose out of the waters, +outfacing the glow on the headland, and rending the film of smoke that +hung like a curtain about the horizon. 'Twas as if by alchemy that the +red ripples melted to gold; and I stood watching with a child's delight. + +I heard the sound of a footstep: and fac'd round. + +Before me, not six paces off, stood Hannibal Tingcomb. + +He was issuing from the hole with a sack on his shoulder, and sneaking +to descend the steps, when he threw a glance behind--and saw me! + +Neither spoke. With a face grey as ashes he turn'd very slowly, until in +the unnatural light we look'd straight into each other's eyes. His never +blink'd, but stared--stared horribly, while the veins swell'd black on +his forehead and his lips work'd, attempting speech. No words came--only +a long drawn sob, deep down in his throat. + +And then, letting slip the sack, he flung his arms up, ran a pace or two +toward me, and tumbled on his face in a fit. His left shoulder hung over +the verge; his legs slipp'd. In a trice he was hanging by his arms, his +old distorted face turn'd up, and a froth about his lips. I made a step +to save him: and then jump'd back, flattening myself against the rock. + +The ledge was breaking. + +I saw a seam gape at my feet. I saw it widen and spread to right and +left. I heard a ripping, rending noise--a rush of stones and earth: and, +clawing the air, with a wild screech, Master Tingcomb pitch'd backward, +head over heels, into space. + +Then follow'd silence: then a horrible splash as he struck the water, +far below: then again a slipping and trickling, as more of the ledge +broke away--at first a pebble or two sliding--a dribble of earth--next, +a crash and a cloud of dust. A last stone ran loose and dropp'd. Then +fell a silence so deep I could catch the roar of the flames on the hill +behind. + +Standing there, my arms thrown back and fingers spread against the rock, +I saw a wave run out, widen, and lose itself on the face of the sea. +Under my feet but eight inches of the cornice remain'd. My toes stuck +forward over the gulf. + +[Illustration: The ledge was breaking.] + +A score of startled gulls with their cries call'd me to myself. I open'd +my eyes, that had shut in sheer giddiness. Close on my left the ledge +was broke back to the very base, cutting me off by twelve feet from that +part where the ladder still rested. No man could jump it, standing. To +the right there was no gap: but in one place only was the footing over +ten inches wide, and at the end my rope hung over the sea, a good yard +away from the edge. + +I shut my eyes and shouted. + +There was no answer. In the dead stillness I could hear the rafters +falling in the House of Gleys, and the shouts of the men at work. The +_Godsend_ lay around the point, out of sight. And Billy, deaf as a +stone, sat no doubt by his rope, placidly waiting my signal. + +I scream'd again and again. The rock flung my voice seaward. Across the +summit vaulted above, there drifted a puff of brown smoke. No one heard. + +A while of weakness followed. My brain reel'd: my fingers dug into the +rock behind till they bled. I bent forward--forward over the heaving +mist through which the sea crawl'd like a snake. It beckon'd me down, +that crawling water.... + +I stiffened my knees and the faintness pass'd. I must not look down +again. It flashed on me that Delia had call'd me weak: and I hardened my +heart to fight it out. I would face round to the cliff and work toward +the rope. + +'Twas a hateful moment while I turned: for to do so I must let go with +one hand. And the rock thrust me outward. But at last I faced the cliff; +waited a moment while my knees shook; and moving a foot cautiously to +the left, began to work my way along, an inch at a time. + +Looking down to guide my feet, I saw the waves twinkling beneath my +heels. My palms press'd the rock. At every three inches I was fain +to rest my forehead against it and gasp. Minute after minute went +by--endless, intolerable, and still the rope seem'd as far away as ever. +A cold sweat ran off me: a nausea possessed me. Once, where the ledge +was widest, I sank on one knee, and hung for a while incapable of +movement. But a black horror drove me on: and after the first dizzy +stupor my wits were mercifully wide awake. Sure, 'twas God's miracle +preserv'd them to me, who looking at the sea and cliff and pitiless sun, +had almost denied Him and his miracles together. + +All the way I kept shouting: and so, for half an hour, inch by inch, +shuffled forward, until I stood under the rope. Then I had to turn +again. + +The rock, tho' still overarching, here press'd out less than before: so +that, working round on the ball of my foot, I managed pretty easily. But +how to get the rope? As I said, it hung a good yard beyond the ledge, +the noose dangling some two feet below it. With my finger tips against +the cliff, I lean'd out and clutch'd at it. I miss'd it by a foot. +“Shall I jump?” thought I, “or bide here till help comes?” + +'Twas a giddy, awful leap. But the black horror was at my heels now. In +a minute more 'twould have me; and then my fall was certain. I call'd +up Delia's face as she had taunted me. I bent my knees, and, leaving my +hold of the rock, sprang forward--out, over the sea. + +I saw it twinkle, fathoms below. My right hand touch'd--grasp'd the +rope: then my left, as I swung far out upon it. I slipp'd an inch--three +inches--then held, swaying wildly. My foot was in the noose. I heard a +shout above: and, as I dropp'd to a sitting posture, the rope began to +rise. + +“Quick! Oh, Billy, pull quick!” + +He could not hear; yet tugg'd like a Trojan. + +“Now, here's a time to keep a man sittin'!” he shouted, as he caught +my hand, and pull'd me full length on the turf. “Why, lad--hast seen a +ghost?” + +There was no answer. The black horror had overtaken me at last. + + * * * * * + +They carried me to a shed in the great court of Gleys, and set me on +straw: and there, till far into the afternoon, I lay betwixt swooning +and trembling, while Delia bath'd my head in water from the sea, for no +other was to be had. And about four in the afternoon the horror left me, +so that I sat up and told my story pretty steadily. + +“What of the house?” I ask'd, when the tale was done, and a company sent +to search the east cliff from the beach. + +“All perish'd!” said Delia, and then smiling, “I am houseless as ever, +Jack.” + +“And have the same good friends.” + +“That's true. But listen--for while you have lain here, Billy and I have +put our heads together. He is bound for Brest, he says, and has agreed +to take me and such poor chattels as are saved, to Brittany, where I +know my mother's kin will have a welcome for me, until these troubles +be pass'd. Already the half of my goods is aboard the _Godsend_, and a +letter writ to Sir Bevill, begging him to appoint an honest man as my +steward. What think you of the plan?” + +“It seems a good plan,” I answer'd slowly: “the England that now is, is +no place for a woman. When do you sail?” + +“As soon as you are recovered, Jack.” + +“Then that's now.” I got on my feet, and drew on my boots (that Matt. +Soames had found in the laurel bushes and brought). My knees trembled a +bit, but nothing to matter. + +“Art looking downcast, Jack.” + +Said I: “How else should I look, that am to lose thee in an hour or +more?” + +She made no reply to this, but turned away to give an order to the +sailors. + +The last of Delia's furniture was hardly aboard, when we heard great +shouts of joy, and saw the men returning that had gone to search the +cliff. They bore between them three large oak coffers: which being +broke, we came on an immense deal of old plate and jewels, besides +over L300 in coined money. There were two more left behind, they said, +besides several small bags of gold. The path up the cliff was hard to +climb, and would have been impossible, but for the iron ladder they +found ready fix'd for Master Tingcomb's descent. In the hole (that could +not be seen from the beach, the shelf hiding it) was tackle for lowering +the chest: and below a boat moor'd, and now left high and dry by the +tide. Doubtless, the arch-rascal had waited for his comrades to return, +whom Matt. Soames and I had scar'd out of all stomach to do so. His body +was nowhere found. + +The sea had wash'd it off: but the sack they recover'd, and found to +hold the choicest of Delia's heirlooms. Within an hour the remaining +coffers and the money bags were safe in the vessel's hold. + + * * * * * + +The sun was setting, as Delia and I stood on the beach, beside the boat +that was to take her from me. Aboard the _Godsend_ I could hear the +anchor lifting, and the men singing, as, holding Molly's bridle, I held +out my hand to the dear maid who with me had shar'd so many a peril. + +“Is there any more to come?” she ask'd. + +“No,” said I, and God knows my heart was heavy: “nothing to come but +'Farewell!'” + +She laid her small hand in my big palm, and glancing up, said very +pretty and demur-- + +“_And shall I leave my best? Wilt not come, too, dear Jack?_” + +“Delia!” I stammer'd. “What is this? I thought you lov'd me not.” + +“And so did I, Jack: and thinking so, I found I loved thee better than +ever. Fie on thee, now! May not a maid change her mind without being +forced to such unseemly, brazen words?” And she heav'd a mock sigh. + +But as I stood and held that little hand, I seem'd across the very mist +of happiness to read a sentence written, and spoke it, perforce and +slow, as with another man's mouth-- + +“Delia, you only have I lov'd, and will love! Blithe would I be to live +with you, and to serve you would blithely die. In sorrow, then, call for +me, or in trust abide me. But go with you now--I may not.” + +She lifted her eyes, and looking full into mine, repeated slowly the +verse we had read at our first meeting-- + + “'In a wife's lap, as in a grave, + Man's airy notions mix with earth--' +--thou hast found it, sweetheart--thou has found the Splendid Spur!” + +She broke off, and clapp'd her hands together very merrily; and then, as +a tear started-- + +“But thou'lt come for me, ere long, Jack? Else I am sure to blame some +other woman. Stay--” + +She drew off her ring, and slipp'd it on my little finger. + +“There's my token! Now give me one to weep and be glad over.” + +Having no trinkets, I gave my glove: and she kiss'd it twice, and put it +in her bosom. + +“I have no need of this ring,” said I: “for look!” and I drew forth +the lock I had cut from her dear head, that morning among the alders by +Kennet side, and worn ever since over my heart. + +“Wilt marry no man till I come?” + +“Now, that's too hard a promise,” said she, laughing, and shaking her +curls. + +“Too hard!” + +“Why, of course. Listen, sweetheart--a true woman will not change her +mind: but, oh! she dearly loves to be able to! So, bating this, here's +my hand upon it--now, fie, Jack! and before all these mariners!--well, +then if thou _must_--” + +* * * * * + +I watch'd her standing in the stern and waving, till she was under the +_Godsend's_ side: then turn'd, and mounting Molly, rode inland to the +wars. + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Splendid Spur, by Arthur T. 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Quiller Couch + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + pre { font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Splendid Spur, by Arthur T. Quiller Couch + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Splendid Spur + +Author: Arthur T. Quiller Couch + + +Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6437] +This file was first posted on December 14, 2002 +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPLENDID SPUR *** + + + + +Text file produced by Karl Hagen, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE SPLENDID SPUR + </h1> + <h4> + Being Memoirs of The Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, A Servant of His Late + Majesty King Charles I., In The Years 1642-3: Written by Himself: Edited + in Modern English by Q (Arthur T. Quiller Couch) + </h4> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Arthur T. Quiller Couch + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + 1897 + </h3> + <h3> + TO + </h3> + <h3> + EDWARD GWYNNE EARDLEY-WILMOT. + </h3> + <h3> + <i>MY DEAR EDDIE, </i> + </h3> + <p> + Whatever view a story-teller may take of his business, 'tis happy when he + can think, “This book of mine will please such and such a friend,” and may + set that friend's name after the title page. For even if to please (as + some are beginning to hold) should be no part of his aim, at least 'twill + always be a reward: and (in unworthier moods) next to a Writer I would + choose to be a Lamplighter, as the only other that gets so cordial a “God + bless him!” in the long winter evenings. + </p> + <p> + To win such a welcome at such a time from a new friend or two would be the + happiest fortune for my tale. But to you I could wish it to speak + particularly, seeing that under the coat of JACK MARVEL <i>beats the heart + of your friend</i> + </p> + <h3> + Q. + </h3> + <p> + <i>Torquay, August 22d</i>, 1889. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INTRODUCTORY NOTE. + </h2> + <h3> + “Q.” + </h3> + <p> + A year or two ago it was observed that three writers were using the + curiously popular signature “Q.” This was hardly less confusing than that + one writer should use three signatures (Grant Allen, Arbuthnot Wilson, and + Anon), but as none of the three was willing to try another letter, they + had to leave it to the public (whose decision in such matters is final) to + say who is Q to it. The public said, Let him wear this proud letter who + can win it, and for the present at least it is in the possession of the + author of “The Splendid Spur” and “The Blue Pavilions.” It would seem, + too, as if it were his “to keep,” for “Q” is like the competition cups + that are only yours for a season, unless you manage to carry them three + times in succession. Mr. Quiller-Couch has been champion Q since 1890. + </p> + <p> + The interesting question is not so much, What has he done to be the only + prominent Q of these years, as Is he to be the Q of all time? If so, he + will do better work than he has yet done, though several of his latest + sketches—and one in particular—are of very uncommon merit. Mr. + Quiller-Couch is so unlike Mr. Kipling that one immediately wants to + compare them. They are both young, and they have both shown such promise + that it will be almost sad if neither can write a book to live—as, + of course, neither has done as yet. Mr. Kipling is the more audacious, + which is probably a matter of training. He was brought up in India, where + one's beard grows much quicker than at Oxford, and where you not only + become a man (and a cynic) in a hurry, but see and hear strange things + (and print them) such as the youth of Oxford miss, or, becoming acquainted + with, would not dare insert in the local magazine of the moment. So Mr. + Kipling's first work betokened a knowledge of the world that is by no + means to be found in “Dead Man's Rock,” the first book published by Mr. + Quiller-Couch. On the other hand, it cannot truly be said that Mr. + Kipling's latest work is stronger than his first, while the other writer's + growth is the most remarkable thing about him. It is precisely the same + Mr. Kipling who is now in the magazines that was writing some years ago in + India (and a rare good Mr. Kipling too), but the Mr. Quiller-Couch of + to-day is the Quiller-Couch of “Dead Man's Rock” grown out of recognition. + To compare their styles is really to compare the men. Mr. Kipling's is the + more startling, the stronger (as yet), and the more mannered. Mark Twain, + it appears, said he reads Mr. Kipling for his style, which is really the + same thing as saying you read him for his books, though the American seems + only to have meant that he eats the beef because he likes the salt. It is + a journalistic style, aiming too constantly at sharp effects, always + succeeding in getting them. Sometimes this is contrived at the expense of + grammar, as when (a common trick with the author) he ends a story with + such a paragraph as “Which is manifestly unfair.” Mr. Quiller-Couch has + never sinned in this way, but his first style was somewhat turgid, even + melodramatic, and, compared with Mr. Kipling's, lacked distinction. From + the beginning Mr. Kipling had the genius for using the right word twice in + three times (Mr. Stevenson only misses it about once in twelve), while Mr. + Quiller-Couch not only used the wrong word, but weighted it with + adjectives. The charge, however, cannot be brought against him to-day, for + having begun by writing like a Mr. Haggard not quite sure of himself (if + one can imagine such a Mr. Haggard), and changing to an obvious imitation + of Mr. Stevenson, he seems now to have made a style for himself. It is + clear and careful, but not as yet strong winged. Its distinctive feature + is that it is curiously musical. + </p> + <p> + “Dead Man's Rock” is a capital sensational story to be read and at once + forgotten. It was followed by “The Astonishing History of Troy Town,” + which was humorous, and proved that the author owed a debt to Dickens. But + it was not sufficiently humorous to be remarkable for its humor, and it + will go hand in hand with “Dead Man's Rock” to oblivion. Until “The + Splendid Spur” appeared Mr. Quiller-Couch had done little to suggest that + an artist had joined the ranks of the story-tellers. It is not in anyway a + great work, but it was among the best dozen novels of its year, and as the + production of a new writer it was one of the most notable. About the same + time was published another historical romance of the second class (for to + nothing short of Sir Walter shall we give a first-class in this + department), “Micah Clarke,” by Mr. Conan Doyle. It was as inevitable that + the two books should be compared as that he who enjoyed the one should + enjoy the other. In one respect “Micah Clarke” is the better story. It + contains one character, a soldier of fortune, who is more memorable than + any single figure in “The Splendid Spur.” This, however, is effected at a + cost, for this man is the book. It contains, indeed, two young fellows, + one of them a John Ridd, but no Diana Vernon would blow a kiss to either. + Both stories are weak in pathos, despite Joan, but there are a score of + humorous situations in “The Splendid Spur” that one could not forget if he + would—which he would not—as, for instance, where hero and + heroine are hidden in barrels in a ship, and hero cries through his + bunghole, “Wilt marry me, sweetheart?” to which heroine replies, “Must get + out of this cask first.” Better still is the scene in which Captain Billy + expatiates, with a mop and a bucket, on the merits of his crew. But the + passages are for reading, not for hearing about. Of the characters, this + same Captain Billy is not the worst, but perhaps the best is Joan, Mr. + Quiller-Couch's first successful picture of a girl. A capital eccentric + figure is killed (some good things are squandered in this book) just when + we are beginning to find him a genuine novelty. Anything that is ready to + leap into danger seems to be thought good enough for the hero of a + fighting romance, so that Jack Marvel will pass (though Delia, as is right + and proper, is worth two of him, despite her coming-on disposition). The + villain is a failure, and the plot poor. Nevertheless there are some + ingenious complications in it. Jack's escape by means of the hangman's + rope, which was to send him out of the world in a few hours, is a fine + rollicking bit of sensation. Where Mr. Quiller-Couch and Mr. Conan Doyle + both fail as compared with the great master of romance is in the + introduction of historical figures and episodes. Scott would have been a + great man if he had written no novel but “The Abbott” (one of his second + best), and no part of “The Abbott” but the scene in which Mary signs away + her crown. Mr. Quiller-Couch almost entirely avoids such attempts, and + even Mr. Conan Doyle only dips into them timidly. There is, one has been + told, a theory that the romancist has no right to picture history in this + way. But he makes his rights when he does it as Scott did it. + </p> + <p> + Since “The Splendid Spur,” Mr. Quiller-Couch has published nothing in book + form which can be considered an advance on his best novel, but there have + appeared by him a number of short Cornish sketches, which are perhaps best + considered as experiments. They are perilously slight, and where they are + successful one remembers them as sweet dreams or like a bar of music. All + aim at this effect, so that many should not be taken at a time, and some + (as was to be expected with such delicate work) miss their mark. It might + be said that in several of these melodies Mr. Quiller-Couch has been + writing the same thing again and again, determined to succeed absolutely, + if not this time then the next, and if not the next time then the time + after. In one case he has succeeded absolutely. “The Small People,” is a + prose “Song of the Shirt.” To my mind this is a rare piece of work, and + the biggest thing for its size that has been done in English fiction for + some years. + </p> + <p> + These sketches have been called experiments. They show (as his books + scarcely show) that Mr. Quiller-Couch can feel. They suggest that he may + be able to do for Cornwall what Mr. Hardy has done for Dorset—though + the methods of the two writers are as unlike as their counties. But that + can only be if in filling his notebook with these little comedies and + tragedies Mr. Quiller-Couch is preparing for more sustained efforts. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Our hope and heart is with thee + We will stand and mark.” + </pre> + <h3> + J. M. BARRIE. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> INTRODUCTORY NOTE. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>THE SPLENDID SPUR.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. — THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE + “CROWN.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. — THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF + AMBER SATIN, </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. — I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN + BRAWL: AND BARELY ESCAPE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. — I TAKE THE ROAD. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. — MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE + CUPS.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. — THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. — I FIND A COMRADE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. — I LOSE THE KING'S LETTER; + AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. — I BREAK OUT OF PRISON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. — CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN + SETTLE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. — I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND + AM WELL TREATED THERE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. — HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF + THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK DOWN. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. — I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT + BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. — I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF + GLEYS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. — I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE + WARS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. — THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD + HEATH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. — I MEET WITH A HAPPY + ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT.1</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. — JOAN DOES ME HER LAST + SERVICE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; + AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE SPLENDID SPUR. + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. — THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE “CROWN.” + </h2> + <p> + He that has jilted the Muse, forsaking her gentle pipe to follow the drum + and trumpet, shall fruitlessly besiege her again when the time comes to + sit at home and write down his adventures. 'Tis her revenge, as I am + extremely sensible: and methinks she is the harder to me, upon reflection + how near I came to being her lifelong servant, as you are to hear. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas on November 29th, Ao. 1642—a clear, frosty day—that the + King, with the Prince of Wales (newly recovered of the measles), the + Princes Rupert and Maurice, and a great company of lords and gentlemen, + horse and foot, came marching back to us from Reading. I was a scholar of + Trinity College in Oxford at that time, and may begin my history at three + o'clock on the same afternoon, when going (as my custom was) to Mr. Rob. + Drury for my fencing lesson, I found his lodgings empty. + </p> + <p> + They stood at the corner of Ship Street, as you turn into the Corn Market—a + low wainscoted chamber, ill-lighted but commodious. “He is off to see the + show,” thought I as I looked about me; and finding an easy cushion in the + window, sat down to await him. Where presently, being tired out (for I had + been carrying a halberd all day with the scholars' troop in Magdalen + College Grove), and in despite of the open lattice, I fell sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + It must have been an hour after that I awoke with a chill (as was + natural), and was stretching out a hand to pull the window close, but + suddenly sat down again and fell to watching instead. + </p> + <p> + The window look'd down, at the height of ten feet or so, upon a + bowling-green at the back of the “Crown” Tavern (kept by John Davenant, in + the Corn Market), and across it to a rambling wing of the same inn; the + fourth side—that to my left—being but an old wall, with a + broad sycamore growing against it. 'Twas already twilight; and in the + dark'ning house, over the green, was now one casement brightly lit, the + curtains undrawn, and within a company of noisy drinkers round a table. + They were gaming, as was easily told by their clicking of the dice and + frequent oaths: and anon the bellow of some tipsy chorus would come + across. 'Twas one of these catches, I dare say, that woke me: only just + now my eyes were bent, not toward the singers, but on the still lawn + between us. + </p> + <p> + The sycamore, I have hinted, was a broad tree, and must, in summer, have + borne a goodly load of leaves: but now, in November, these were strewn + thick over the green, and nothing left but stiff, naked boughs. Beneath it + lay a crack'd bowl or two on the rank turf, and against the trunk a garden + bench rested, I suppose for the convenience of the players. On this a man + was now seated. + </p> + <p> + He was reading in a little book; and this first jogged my curiosity: for + 'twas unnatural a man should read print at this dim hour, or, if he had a + mind to try, should choose a cold bowling-green for his purpose. Yet he + seemed to study his volume very attentively, but with a sharp look, now + and then, toward the lighted window, as if the revellers disturb'd him. + His back was partly turn'd to me; and what with this and the growing dusk, + I could but make a guess at his face: but a plenty of silver hair fell + over his fur collar, and his shoulders were bent a great deal. I judged + him between fifty and sixty. For the rest, he wore a dark, simple suit, + very straitly cut, with an ample furr'd cloak, and a hat rather tall, + after the fashion of the last reign. + </p> + <p> + Now, why the man's behavior so engaged me, I don't know: but at the end of + half an hour I was still watching him. By this, 'twas near dark, bitter + cold, and his pretence to read mere fondness: yet he persevered—though + with longer glances at the casement above, where the din at times was fit + to wake the dead. + </p> + <p> + And now one of the dicers upsets his chair with a curse, and gets on his + feet. Looking up, I saw his features for a moment—a slight, pretty + boy, scarce above eighteen, with fair curls and flush'd cheeks like a + girl's. It made me admire to see him in this ring of purple, villainous + faces. 'Twas evident he was a young gentleman of quality, as well by his + bearing as his handsome cloak of amber satin barr'd with black. “I think + the devil's in these dice!” I heard him crying, and a pretty hubbub all + about him: but presently the drawer enters with more wine, and he sits + down quietly to a fresh game. + </p> + <p> + As soon as 'twas started, one of the crew, that had been playing but was + now dropp'd out, lounges up from his seat, and coming to the casement + pushes it open for fresh air. He was one that till now had sat in full + view—a tall bully, with a gross pimpled nose; and led the catches in + a bull's voice. The rest of the players paid no heed to his rising; and + very soon his shoulders hid them, as he lean'd out, drawing in the cold + breath. + </p> + <p> + During the late racket I had forgot for a while my friend under the + sycamore, but now, looking that way, to my astonishment I saw him risen + from his bench and stealing across to the house opposite. I say + “stealing,” for he kept all the way to the darker shadow of the wall, and + besides had a curious trailing motion with his left foot as though the + ankle of it had been wrung or badly hurt. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was come beneath the window he stopped and called softly— + </p> + <p> + “Hist!” + </p> + <p> + The bully gave a start and look'd down. I could tell by this motion he did + not look to find anyone in the bowling-green at that hour. Indeed he had + been watching the shaft of light thrown past him by the room behind, and + now moved so as to let it fall on the man that addressed him. + </p> + <p> + The other stands close under the window, as if to avoid this, and calls + again— + </p> + <p> + “Hist!” says he, and beckons with a finger. + </p> + <p> + The man at the window still held his tongue (I suppose because those in + the room would hear him if he spoke), and so for a while the two men + studied one another in silence, as if considering their next moves. + </p> + <p> + After a bit, however, the bully lifted a hand, and turning back into the + lighted room, walks up to one of the players, speaks a word or two and + disappears. + </p> + <p> + I sat up on the window seat, where till now I had been crouching for fear + the shaft of light should betray me, and presently (as I was expecting) + heard the latch of the back perch gently lifted, and spied the heavy form + of the bully coming softly over the grass. + </p> + <p> + Now, I would not have my readers prejudiced, and so may tell them this was + the first time in my life I had played the eavesdropper. That I did so now + I can never be glad enough, but 'tis true, nevertheless, my conscience + pricked me; and I was even making a motion to withdraw when that occurred + which would have fixed any man's attention, whether he wish'd it or no. + </p> + <p> + The bully must have closed the door behind him but carelessly, for hardly + could he take a dozen steps when it opened again with a scuffle, and the + large house dog belonging to the “Crown” flew at his heels with a vicious + snarl and snap of the teeth. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas enough to scare the coolest. But the fellow turn'd as if shot, and + before he could snap again, had gripped him fairly by the throat. The + struggle that follow'd I could barely see, but I heard the horrible sounds + of it—the hard, short breathing of the man, the hoarse rage working + in the dog's throat—and it turned me sick. The dog—a mastiff—was + fighting now to pull loose, and the pair swayed this way and that in the + dusk, panting and murderous. + </p> + <p> + I was almost shouting aloud—feeling as though 'twere my own throat + thus gripp'd—when the end came. The man had his legs planted well + apart. + </p> + <p> + I saw his shoulders heave up and bend as he tightened the pressure of his + fingers; then came a moment's dead silence, then a hideous gurgle, and the + mastiff dropped back, his hind legs trailing limp. + </p> + <p> + The bully held him so for a full minute, peering close to make sure he was + dead, and then without loosening his hold, dragged him across the grass + under my window. By the sycamore he halted, but only to shift his hands a + little; and so, swaying on his hips, sent the carcase with a heave over + the wall. I heard it drop with a thud on the far side. + </p> + <p> + During this fierce wrestle—which must have lasted about two minutes—the + clatter and shouting of the company above had gone on without a break; and + all this while the man with the white hair had rested quietly on one side, + watching. But now he steps up to where the bully stood mopping his face + (for all the coolness of the evening), and, with a finger between the + leaves of his book, bows very politely. + </p> + <p> + “You handled that dog, sir, choicely well,” says he, in a thin voice that + seemed to have a chuckle hidden in it somewhere. + </p> + <p> + The other ceased mopping to get a good look at him. + </p> + <p> + “But sure,” he went on, “'twas hard on the poor cur, that had never heard + of Captain Lucius Higgs—” + </p> + <p> + I thought the bully would have had him by the windpipe and pitched him + after the mastiff, so fiercely he turn'd at the sound of this name. But + the old gentleman skipped back quite nimbly and held up a finger. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a man of peace. If another title suits you better—” + </p> + <p> + “Where the devil got you that name?” growled the bully, and had half a + mind to come on again, but the other put in briskly— + </p> + <p> + “I'm on a plain errand of business. No need, as you hint, to mention + names; and therefore let me present myself as Mr. Z. The residue of the + alphabet is at your service to pick and choose from.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Luke Settle,” said the big man hoarsely (but whether this was + his natural voice or no I could not tell). + </p> + <p> + “Let us say 'Mr. X.' I prefer it.” + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman, as he said this, popped his head on one side, laid the + forefinger of his right hand across the book, and seem'd to be + considering. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you throttle that dog a minute ago?” he asked sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Why, to save my skin,” answers the fellow, a bit puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Would you have done it for fifty pounds?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, or half that.” + </p> + <p> + “And how if it had been a <i>puppy</i>, Mr. X?” + </p> + <p> + Now all this from my hiding I had heard very clearly, for they stood right + under me in the dusk. But as the old gentleman paused to let his question + sink in, and the bully to catch the drift of it before answering, one of + the dicers above struck up to sing a catch—— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “With a hey, trolly-lolly! a leg to the Devil, + And answer him civil, and off with your cap: + Sing—Hey, trolly-lolly! Good-morrow, Sir Evil, + We've finished the tap, + And, saving your worship, we care not a rap!” + </pre> + <p> + While this din continued, the stranger held up one forefinger again, as if + beseeching silence, the other remaining still between the pages of his + book. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty boys!” he said, as the noise died away; “pretty boys! 'Tis easily + seen they have a bird to pluck.” + </p> + <p> + “He's none of my plucking.” + </p> + <p> + “And if he were, why not? Sure you've picked a feather or two before now + in the Low Countries—hey?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you what,” interrupts the big man, “next time you crack one of + your death's-head jokes, over the wall you go after the dog. What's to + prevent it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, this,” answers the old fellow, cheerfully. “There's money to be made + by doing no such thing. And I don't carry it all about with me. So, as + 'tis late, we'd best talk business at once.” + </p> + <p> + They moved away toward the seat under the sycamore, and now their words + reached me no longer—only the low murmur of their voices or (to be + correct) of the elder man's: for the other only spoke now and then, to put + a question, as it seemed. Presently I heard an oath rapped out and saw the + bully start up. “Hush, man!” cried the other, and “hark-ye now—“; so + he sat down again. Their very forms were lost within the shadow. I, + myself, was cold enough by this time and had a cramp in one leg—but + lay still, nevertheless. And after awhile they stood up together, and came + pacing across the bowling-green, side by side, the older man trailing his + foot painfully to keep step. You may be sure I strain'd my ears. + </p> + <p> + “—besides the pay,” the stranger was saying, “there's all you can + win of this young fool, Anthony, and all you find on the pair, which I'll + wager—” + </p> + <p> + They passed out of hearing, but turned soon, and came back again. The big + man was speaking this time. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be shot if I know what game <i>you're</i> playing in this.” + </p> + <p> + The elder chuckled softly. “I'll be shot if I mean you to,” said he. + </p> + <p> + And this was the last I heard. For now there came a clattering at the door + behind me, and Mr. Robert Drury reeled in, hiccuping a maudlin ballad + about “<i>Tib and young Colin, one fine day, beneath the haycock shade-a</i>,” + &c., &c., and cursing to find his fire gone out, and all in + darkness. Liquor was ever his master, and to-day the King's health had + been a fair excuse. He did not spy me, but the roar of his ballad had + startled the two men outside, and so, while he was stumbling over chairs, + and groping for a tinder-box, I slipp'd out in the darkness, and + downstairs into the street. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. — THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN, + </h2> + <p> + Guess, any of you, if these events disturbed my rest that night. 'Twas + four o'clock before I dropp'd asleep in my bed in Trinity, and my last + thoughts were still busy with the words I had heard. Nor, on the morrow, + did it fair any better with me: so that, at rhetoric lecture, our + president—Dr. Ralph Kettle—took me by the ears before the + whole class. He was the fiercer upon me as being older than the gross of + my fellow-scholars, and (as he thought) the more restless under + discipline. “A tutor'd adolescence,” he would say, “is a fair grace before + meat,” and had his hourglass enlarged to point the moral for us. But even + a rhetoric lecture must have an end, and so, tossing my gown to the + porter, I set off at last for Magdalen Bridge, where the new barricado was + building, along the Physic Garden, in front of East Gate. + </p> + <p> + The day was dull and low'ring, though my wits were too busy to heed the + sky; but scarcely was I past the small gate in the city wall when a brisk + shower of hail and sleet drove me to shelter in the Pig Market ( or <i>Proscholium</i>) + before the Divinity School. 'Tis an ample vaulted passage, as I dare say + you know; and here I found a great company of people already driven by the + same cause. + </p> + <p> + To describe them fully 'twould be necessary to paint the whole state of + our city in those distracted times, which I have neither wit nor time for. + But here, to-day, along with many doctors and scholars, were walking + courtiers, troopers, mountebanks, cut-purses, astrologers, rogues and + gamesters; together with many of the first ladies and gentlemen of + England, as the Prince Maurice, the lords Andover, Digby and Colepepper, + my lady Thynne, Mistress Fanshawe, Mr. Secretary Nicholas, the famous Dr. + Harvey, arm-in-arm with my lord Falkland (whose boots were splash'd with + mud, he having ridden over from his house at Great Tew), and many such, + all mix'd in this incredible tag-rag. Mistress Fanshawe, as I remember, + was playing on a lute, which she carried always slung about her shoulders: + and close beside her, a fellow impudently puffing his specific against the + <i>morbus campestris</i>, which already had begun to invade us. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Who'll buy?</i>” he was bawling. “'<i>Tis from the receipt of a famous + Italian, and never yet failed man, woman, nor child, unless the heart were + clean drown'd in the disease: the lest part of it good muscadine, and has + virtue against the plague, smallpox, or surfeits!</i>” + </p> + <p> + I was standing before this jackanapes, when I heard a stir in the crowd + behind me, and another calling, “<i>Who'll buy? Who'll buy?</i>” + </p> + <p> + Turning, I saw a young man, very gaily dressed, moving quickly about at + the far end of the Pig Market, and behind him an old lackey, bent double + with the weight of two great baskets that he carried. The baskets were + piled with books, clothes, and gewgaws of all kinds; and 'twas the young + gentleman that hawked his wares himself. “<i>What d'ye lack?</i>” he kept + shouting, and would stop to unfold his merchandise, holding up now a book, + and now a silk doublet, and running over their merits like any huckster—but + with the merriest conceit in the world. + </p> + <p> + And yet 'twas not this that sent my heart flying into my mouth at the + sight of him. For by his curls and womanish face, no less than the amber + cloak with the black bars, I knew him at once for the same I had seen + yesterday among the dicers. + </p> + <p> + As I stood there, drawn this way and that by many reflections, he worked + his way through the press, selling here and there a trifle from his + baskets, and at length came to a halt in front of me. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” he cried, pulling off his plumed hat, and bowing low, “a scholar, I + perceive. Let me serve you, sir. Here is the 'History of Saint George,'” + and he picked out a thin brown quarto and held it up; “written by Master + Peter Heylin; a ripe book they tell me (though, to be sure, I never read + beyond the title), and the price a poor two shillings.” + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: “A scholar, I perceive. Let me serve you sir?”—Page + 30.} + </p> + <p> + Now, all this while I was considering what to do. So, as I put my hand in + my pocket, and drew out the shillings, I said very slowly, looking him in + the eyes (but softly, so that the lackey might not hear)—— + </p> + <p> + “So thus you feed your expenses at the dice: and my shilling, no doubt, is + for Luke Settle, as well as the rest.” + </p> + <p> + For the moment, under my look, he went white to the lips; then clapped his + hand to his sword, withdrew it, and answered me, red as a turkey-cock—— + </p> + <p> + “Shalt be a parson, yet, Master Scholar: but art in a damn'd hurry, it + seems.” + </p> + <p> + Now, I had ever a quick temper, and as he turned on his heel, was like to + have replied and raised a brawl. My own meddling tongue had brought the + rebuff upon me: but yet my heart was hot as he walked away. + </p> + <p> + I was standing there and looking after him, turning over in my hand the + “Life of Saint George,” when my fingers were aware of a slip of paper + between the pages. Pulling it out, I saw 'twas scribbled over with writing + and figures, as follows:— + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Anthony Killigrew, his acct for Oct. 25th, MDCXLII.—<i>For + herrings</i>, 2d.; <i>for coffie</i>, 4d.; <i>for scowring my coat</i>, + 6d.; <i>at bowls</i>, 5s. 10d.; <i>for bleading me</i>, 1s. 0d.; <i>for ye + King's speech</i>, 3d.; <i>for spic'd wine (with Marjory)</i>, 2s. 4d.; <i>for + seeing ye Rhinoceros</i>, 4d.; <i>at ye Ranter-go-round</i>, 6 3/4d.; <i>for + a pair of silver buttons</i>, 2s. 6d.; <i>for apples</i>, 2 1/2d.; <i>for + ale</i>, 6d.; <i>at ye dice</i>, L17 5s.; <i>for spic'd wine (again)</i>, + 4s. 6d.” + </p> + <p> + And so on. + </p> + <p> + As I glanced my eye down this paper, my anger oozed away, and a great + feeling of pity came over me, not only at the name of Anthony—the + name I had heard spoken in the bowling-green last night—but also to + see that monstrous item of L17 odd spent on the dice. 'Twas such a boy, + too, after all, that I was angry with, that had spent fourpence to see the + rhinoceros at a fair, and rode on the ranter-go-round (with “Marjory,” no + doubt, as 'twas for her, no doubt, the silver buttons were bought). So + that, with quick forgiveness, I hurried after him, and laid a hand on his + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + He stood by the entrance, counting up his money, and drew himself up very + stiff. + </p> + <p> + “I think, sir,” said I, “this paper is yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you,” he answered, taking it, and eyeing me. “Is there anything, + besides, you wished to say?” + </p> + <p> + “A great deal, maybe, if your name be Anthony.” + </p> + <p> + “Master Anthony Killigrew is my name, sir; now serving under Lord Bernard + Stewart in His Majesty's troop of guards.” + </p> + <p> + “And mine is Jack Marvel,” said I. — “Of the Yorkshire Marvels?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; though but a shoot of that good stock, transplanted to + Cumberland, and there sadly withered.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis no matter, sir,” said he politely; “I shall be proud to cross swords + with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, bless your heart!” I cried out, full of laughter at this childish + punctilio; “d'ye think I came to fight you?” + </p> + <p> + “If not, sir”—and he grew colder than ever—“you are going a + cursed roundabout way to avoid it.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this, finding no other way out of it, I began my tale at once: but + hardly had come to the meeting of the two men on the bowling-green, when + he interrupts me politely—— + </p> + <p> + “I think, Master Marvel, as yours is like to be a story of some moment, I + will send this fellow back to my lodgings. He's a long-ear'd dog that I am + saving from the gallows for so long as my conscience allows me. The shower + is done, I see; so if you know of a retir'd spot, we will talk there more + at our leisure.” + </p> + <p> + He dismiss'd his lackey, and stroll'd off with me to the Trinity Grove, + where, walking up and down, I told him all I had heard and seen the night + before. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said I, “can you tell me if you have any such enemy as this + white-hair'd man, with the limping gait?” + </p> + <p> + He had come to a halt, sucking in his lips and seeming to reflect— + </p> + <p> + “I know one man,” he began: “but no—'tis impossible.” + </p> + <p> + As I stood, waiting to hear more, he clapp'd his hand in mine, very quick + and friendly: “Jack,” he cried;—“I'll call thee Jack—'twas an + honest good turn thou hadst in thy heart to do me, and I a surly rogue to + think of fighting—I that could make mincemeat of thee.” + </p> + <p> + “I can fence a bit,” answer'd I. — “Now, say no more, Jack: I love + thee.” + </p> + <p> + He look'd in my face, still holding my hand and smiling. Indeed, there was + something of the foreigner in his brisk graceful ways—yet not + unpleasing. I was going to say I had never seen the like—ah, me! + that both have seen and know the twin image so well. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said I, “you had better be considering what to do.” + </p> + <p> + He laugh'd outright this time; and resting with his legs cross'd, against + the trunk of an elm, twirl'd an end of his long lovelocks, and looked at + me comically. Said he: “Tell me, Jack, is there aught in me that offends + thee?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” I answered. “I think you're a very proper young man—such + as I should loathe to see spoil'd by Master Settle's knife.” + </p> + <p> + “Art not quick at friendship, Jack, but better at advising; only in this + case fortune has prevented thy good offices. Hark ye,” he lean'd forward + and glanc'd to right and left, “if these twain intend my hurt—as + indeed 'twould seem—they lose their labor: for this very night I + ride from Oxford.” + </p> + <p> + “And why is that?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell thee, Jack, tho' I deserve to be shot. I am bound with a letter + from His Majesty to the Army of the West, where I have friends, for my + father's sake—Sir Deakin Killigrew of Gleys, in Cornwall. 'Tis a + sweet country, they say, tho' I have never seen it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not seen thy father's country?” + </p> + <p> + “Why no—for he married a Frenchwoman, Jack, God rest her dear soul!”—he + lifted his hat—“and settled in that country, near Morlaix, in + Brittany, among my mother's kin; my grandfather refusing to see or speak + with him, for wedding a poor woman without his consent. And in France was + I born and bred, and came to England two years agone; and this last July + the old curmudgeon died. So that my father, who was an only son, is even + now in England returning to his estates: and with him my only sister + Delia. I shall meet them on the way. To think of it!” (and I declare the + tears sprang to his eyes): “Delia will be a woman grown, and ah! to see + dear Cornwall together!” + </p> + <p> + Now I myself was only a child, and had been made an orphan when but nine + years old, by the smallpox that visited our home in Wastdale Village, and + carried off my father, the Vicar, and my dear mother. Yet his simple words + spoke to my heart and woke so tender a yearning for the small stone + cottage, and the bridge, and the grey fells of Yewbarrow above it, that a + mist rose in my eyes too, and I turn'd away to hide it. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis a ticklish business,” said I after a minute, “to carry the King's + letter. Not one in four of his messengers comes through, they say. But + since it keeps you from the dice——” + </p> + <p> + “That's true. To-night I make an end.” + </p> + <p> + “To-night!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. To-night I go for my revenge, and ride straight from the inn + door.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I go with you to the 'Crown,'” I cried, very positive. + </p> + <p> + He dropp'd playing with his curl, and look'd me in the face, his mouth + twitching with a queer smile. + </p> + <p> + “And so thou shalt Jack: but why?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll give no reason,” said I, and knew I was blushing. + </p> + <p> + “Then be at the corner of All Hallows' Church in Turl Street at seven + to-night. I lodge over Master Simon's, the glover, and must be about my + affairs. Jack,”—he came near and took my hand—“am sure thou + lovest me.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded, with another cordial smile, and went his way up the grove, his + amber cloak flaunting like a belated butterfly under the leaf less trees; + and so pass'd out of my sight. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. — I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL: AND BARELY ESCAPE. + </h2> + <p> + It wanted, maybe, a quarter to seven, that evening, when, passing out at + the College Gate on my way to All Hallows' Church, I saw under the lantern + there a man loitering and talking with the porter. 'Twas Master Anthony's + lackey; and as I came up, he held out a note for me. + </p> + <p> + Deare Jack + </p> + <p> + Wee goe to the “Crowne” at VI. o'clock, I having mett with Captain Settle, + who is on dewty with the horse tonite, and must to Abendonn by IX. I looke + for you— + </p> + <p> + Your unfayned loving + </p> + <h3> + A. K. + </h3> + <p> + The bearer has left my servise, and his helth conserus me nott. Soe kik + him if he tarrie. + </p> + <p> + This last advice I had no time to carry out with any thoroughness: but + being put in a great dread by this change of hour, pelted off toward the + Corn Market as fast as legs could take me, which was the undoing of a + little round citizen into whom I ran full tilt at the corner of Balliol + College: who, before I could see his face in the darkness, was tipp'd on + his back in the gutter and using the most dismal expressions. So I left + him, considering that my excuses would be unsatisfying to his present + demands, and to his cooler judgment a superfluity. + </p> + <p> + The windows of the “Crown” were cheerfully lit behind their red blinds. A + few straddling grooms and troopers talked and spat in the brightness of + the entrance, and outside in the street was a servant leading up and down + a beautiful sorrel mare, ready saddled, that was mark'd on the near hind + leg with a high white stocking. In the passage, I met the host of the + “Crown,” Master John Davenant, and sure (I thought) in what odd corners + will the Muse pick up her favorites! For this slow, loose-cheek'd vintner + was no less than father to Will Davenant, our Laureate, and had belike + read no other verse in his life but those at the bottom of his own + pint-pots. + </p> + <p> + “Top of the stairs,” says he, indicating my way, “and open the door ahead + of you, if y'are the young gentleman Master Killigrew spoke of.” + </p> + <p> + I had my foot on the bottom step, when from the room above comes the crash + of a table upsetting, with a noise of broken glass, chairs thrust back, + and a racket of outcries. Next moment, the door was burst open, letting + out a flood of light and curses; and down flies a drawer, three steps at a + time, with a red stain of wine trickling down his white face. + </p> + <p> + “Murder!” he gasped out; and sitting down on a stair, fell to mopping his + face, all sick and trembling. + </p> + <p> + I was dashing past him, with the landlord at my heels, when three men came + tumbling out at the door, and downstairs. I squeezed myself against the + wall to let them pass: but Master Davenant was pitch'd to the very foot of + the stairs. And then he picked himself up and ran out into the Corn + Market, the drawer after him, and both shouting “Watch! Watch!” at the top + of their lungs; and so left the three fellows to push by the women already + gathered in the passage, and gain the street at their ease. All this + happen'd while a man could count twenty; and in half a minute I heard the + ring of steel and was standing in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + There was now no light within but what was shed by the fire and two tallow + candles that gutter'd on the mantelshelf. The remaining candlesticks lay + in a pool of wine on the floor, amid broken glasses, bottles, scattered + coins, dice boxes and pewter pots. In the corner to my right cower'd a + potboy, with tankard dangling in his hand, and the contents spilling into + his shoes. His wide terrified eyes were fix'd on the far end of the room, + where Anthony and the brute Settle stood, with a shattered chair between + them. Their swords were cross'd in tierce, and grating together as each + sought occasion for a lunge: which might have been fair enough but for a + dog-fac'd trooper in a frowsy black periwig, who, as I enter'd, was + gathering a handful of coins from under the fallen table, and now ran + across, sword in hand, to the Captain's aid. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas Anthony that fac'd me, with his heel against the wainscoting, and, + catching my cry of alarm, he call'd out cheerfully over the Captain's + shoulder, but without lifting his eyes— + </p> + <p> + “Just in time, Jack! Take off the second cur, that's a sweet boy!” + </p> + <p> + Now I carried no sword; but seizing the tankard from the potboy's hand, I + hurl'd it at the dog-fac'd trooper. It struck him fair between the + shoulder blades; and with a yell of pain he spun round and came toward me, + his point glittering in a way that turn'd me cold. I gave back a pace, + snatch'd up a chair (that luckily had a wooden seat) and with my back + against the door, waited his charge. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas in this posture that, flinging a glance across the room, I saw the + Captain's sword describe a small circle of light, and next moment, with a + sharp cry, Anthony caught at the blade, and stagger'd against the wall, + pinn'd through the chest to the wainscoting. + </p> + <p> + “Out with the lights, Dick!” bawl'd Settle, tugging out his point. “Quick, + fool—the window!” + </p> + <p> + Dick, with a back sweep of his hand, sent the candles flying off the + shelf; and, save for the flicker of the hearth, we were in darkness. I + felt, rather than saw, his rush toward me; leap'd aside; and brought down + my chair with a crash on his skull. He went down like a ninepin, but + scrambled up in a trice, and was running for the window. + </p> + <p> + There was a shout below as the Captain thrust the lattice open: another, + and the two dark forms had clambered through the purple square of the + casement, and dropped into the bowling-green below. + </p> + <p> + By this, I had made my way across the room, and found Anthony sunk against + the wall, with his feet outstretched. There was something he held out + toward me, groping for my hand and at the same time whispering in a thick, + choking voice— + </p> + <p> + “Here, Jack, here: pocket it quick!” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a letter, and as my fingers closed on it they met a damp smear, the + meaning of which was but too plain. + </p> + <p> + “Button it—sharp—in thy breast: now feel for my sword.” + </p> + <p> + “First let me tend thy hurt, dear lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay—quickly, my sword! 'Tis pretty, Jack, to hear thee say 'dear + lad.' A cheat to die like this—could have laugh'd for years yet. The + dice were cogg'd—hast found it?” + </p> + <p> + I groped beside him, found the hilt, and held it up. + </p> + <p> + “So—'tis thine, Jack: and my mare, Molly, and the letter to take. + Say to Delia—Hark! they are on the stairs. Say to—” + </p> + <p> + With a shout the door was flung wide, and on the threshold stood the + Watch, their lanterns held high and shining in Anthony's white face, and + on the black stain where his doublet was thrown open. + </p> + <p> + In numbers they were six or eight, led by a small, wrynecked man that held + a long staff, and wore a gilt chain over his furr'd collar. Behind, in the + doorway, were huddled half a dozen women, peering: and Master Davenant at + the back of all, his great face looming over their shoulders like a moon. + </p> + <p> + “Now, speak up, Master Short!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, that I will—that I will: but my head is considering of + affairs,” answered Master Short—he of the wryneck. “One, two, three—” + He look'd round the room, and finding but one capable of resisting (for + the potboy was by this time in a fit), clear'd his throat, and spoke up— + </p> + <p> + “In the king's name, I arrest you all—so help me God! Now what's the + matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Murder,” said I, looking up from my work of staunching Anthony's wound. + </p> + <p> + “Then forbear, and don't do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Master Short, they've been forbearin' these ten minutes,” a woman's + voice put in. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, and hear Master Short: he knows the law, an' all the dubious maxims + of the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, aye: he says forbear i' the King's name, which is to say, that other + forbearing is neither law nor grace. Now then, Master Short!” + </p> + <p> + Thus exhorted, the man of law continued— + </p> + <p> + “I charge ye as honest men to disperse!” + </p> + <p> + “Odds truth, Master Short, why you've just laid 'em under arrest!” + </p> + <p> + “H'm, true: then let 'em stay so—in the king's name—and have + done with it.” + </p> + <p> + Master Short, in fact, was growing testy: but now the women push'd by him, + and, by screaming at the sight of blood, put him out of all patience. + Dragging them back by the skirts, he told me he must take the depositions, + and pull'd out pen and ink horn. + </p> + <p> + “Sirs,” said I, laying poor Anthony's head softly back, “you are too late: + whilst ye were cackling my friend is dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, young man, thou must come along.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along?” + </p> + <p> + “The charge is <i>homocidium</i>, or manslaying, with or without malice + prepense—” + </p> + <p> + “But—” I look'd round. The potboy was insensible, and my eyes fell + on Master Davenant, who slowly shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'll say not a word,” said he, stolidly: “lost twenty pound, one time, by + a lawsuit.” + </p> + <p> + “Pack of fools!” I cried, driven beyond endurance. “The guilty ones have + escap'd these ten minutes. Now stop me who dares!” + </p> + <p> + And dashing my left fist on the nose of a watchman who would have seized + me, I clear'd a space with Anthony's sword, made a run for the casement, + and dropp'd out upon the bowling-green. + </p> + <p> + A pretty shout went up as I pick'd myself off the turf and rush'd for the + back door. 'Twas unbarr'd, and in a moment I found myself tearing down the + passage and out into the Corn Market, with a score or so tumbling + downstairs at my heels, and yelling to stop me. Turning sharp to my right, + I flew up Ship Street, and through the Turl, and doubled back up the High + Street, sword in hand. The people I pass'd were too far taken aback, as I + suppose, to interfere. But a many must have join'd in the chase: for + presently the street behind me was thick with the clatter of footsteps and + cries of “A thief—a thief! Stop him!” + </p> + <p> + At Quater Voies I turn'd again, and sped down toward St. Aldate's, thence + to the left by Wild Boar Street, and into St. Mary's Lane. By this, the + shouts had grown fainter, but were still following. Now I knew there was + no possibility to get past the city gates, which were well guarded at + night. My hope reach'd no further than the chance of outwitting the + pursuit for a while longer. In the end I was sure the potboy's evidence + would clear me, and therefore began to enjoy the fun. Even my certain + expulsion from College on the morrow seem'd of a piece with the rest of + events and (prospectively) a matter for laughter. For the struggle at the + “Crown” had unhinged my wits, as I must suppose and you must believe, if + you would understand my behavior in the next half hour. + </p> + <p> + A bright thought had struck me: and taking a fresh wind, I set off again + round the corner of Oriel College, and down Merton Street toward Master + Timothy Carter's house, my mother's cousin. This gentleman—who was + town clerk to the Mayor and Corporation of Oxford—was also in a + sense my guardian, holding it trust about L200 (which was all my + inheritance), and spending the same jealously on my education. He was a + very small, precise lawyer, about sixty years old, shaped like a pear, + with a prodigious self-important manner that came of associating with + great men: and all the knowledge I had of him was pick'd up on the rare + occasions (about twice a year) that I din'd at his table. He had early + married and lost an aged shrew, whose money had been the making of him: + and had more respect for law and authority than any three men in Oxford. + So that I reflected, with a kind of desperate hilarity, on the greeting he + was like to give me. + </p> + <p> + This kinsman of mine had a fine house at the east end of Merton Street as + you turn into Logic Lane: and I was ten yards from the front door, and + running my fastest, when suddenly I tripp'd and fell headlong. + </p> + <p> + Before I could rise, a hand was on my shoulder, and a voice speaking in my + ear— + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, comrade. We are two of a trade, I see.” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a fellow that had been lurking at the corner of the lane, and had + thrust out a leg as I pass'd. He was pricking up his ears now to the cries + of “Thief—thief!” that had already reach'd the head of the street, + and were drawing near. + </p> + <p> + “I am no thief,” said I. — “Quick!” He dragged me into the shadow of + the lane. “Hast a crown in thy pocket?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, for a good turn. I'll fog these gentry for thee. Many thanks, + comrade,” as I pull'd out the last few shillings of my pocket money. “Now + pitch thy sword over the wall here, and set thy foot on my hand. 'Tis a + rich man's garden, t'other side, that I was meaning to explore myself; but + another night will serve.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis Master Carter's,” said I; “and he's my kinsman.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil!—but never mind, up with thee! Now mark a pretty piece of + play. 'Tis pity thou shouldst be across the wall and unable to see.” + </p> + <p> + He gave a great hoist: catching at the coping of the wall, I pull'd myself + up and sat astride of it. + </p> + <p> + “Good turf below—ta-ta, comrade!” + </p> + <p> + By now, the crowd was almost at the corner. Dropping about eight feet on + to good turf, as the fellow had said, I pick'd myself up and listen'd. + </p> + <p> + “Which way went he?” call'd one, as they came near. + </p> + <p> + “Down the street!” “No: up the lane!'” “Hush!” “Up the lane, I'll be + sworn.” “Here, hand the lantern!” &c., &c. + </p> + <p> + While they debated, my friend stood close on the other side of the wall: + but now I heard him dash suddenly out, and up the lane for his life. + “There he goes!” “Stop him!” the cries broke out afresh. “Stop him, i' the + king's name!” The whole pack went pelting by, shouting, stumbling, + swearing. + </p> + <p> + For two minutes or more the stragglers continued to hurry past by ones and + twos. As soon as their shouts died away, I drew freer breath and look'd + around. + </p> + <p> + I was in a small, turfed garden, well stock'd with evergreen shrubs, at + the back of a tall house that I knew for Master Carter's. But what puzzled + me was a window in the first floor, very brightly lit, and certain sounds + issuing therefrom that had no correspondence with my kinsman's reputation. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “It was a frog leap'd into a pool— + Fol—de—riddle, went souse in the middle! + Says he, This is better than moping in school. + With a—” + </pre> + <p> + “—Your Royal Highness, have some pity! What hideous folly! Oh, dear, + dear—” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “With a fa-la-tweedle-tweedle, + Tiddifol-iddifol-ido!” + </pre> + <p> + “—Your Royal Highness, I <i>cannot</i> sing the dreadful stuff! + Think of my grey hairs!” + </p> + <p> + “Tush! Master Carter—nonsense; 'tis choicely well sung. Come, + brother, the chorus!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “With a fa-la—” + </pre> + <p> + And the chorus was roar'd forth, with shouts of laughter and clinking of + glasses. Then came an interval of mournful appeal, and my kinsman's voice + was again lifted—— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “He scattered the tadpoles, and set 'em agog, + Hey! nod-noddy-all head and no body! + Oh, mammy! Oh, minky!—” + </pre> + <p> + “—O, mercy, mercy! it makes me sweat for shame.” + </p> + <p> + Now meantime I had been searching about the garden, and was lucky enough + to find a tool shed, and inside of this a ladder hanging, which now I + carried across and planted beneath the window. I had a shrewd notion of + what I should find at the top, remembering now to have heard that the + Princes Rupert and Maurice were lodging with Master Carter: but the truth + beat all my fancies. + </p> + <p> + For climbing softly up and looking in, I beheld my poor kinsman perch'd on + his chair a-top of the table, in the midst of glasses, decanters, and + desserts: his wig askew, his face white, save where, between the eyes, a + medlar had hit and broken, and his glance shifting wildly between the two + princes, who in easy postures, loose and tipsy, lounged on either side of + him, and beat with their glasses on the board. + </p> + <p> + “Bravissimo! More, Master Carter—more!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “O mammy, O nunky, here's cousin Jack Frog— + With a fa-la—” + </pre> + <p> + I lifted my knuckles and tapp'd on the pane; whereon Prince Maurice starts + up with an oath, and coming to the window, flings it open. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, your Highness,” said I, and pull'd myself past him into the room, + as cool as you please. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas worth while to see their surprise. Prince Maurice ran back to the + table for his sword: his brother (being more thoroughly drunk) dropped a + decanter on the floor, and lay back staring in his chair. While as for my + kinsman, he sat with mouth wide and eyes starting, as tho' I were a very + ghost. In the which embarrassment I took occasion to say, very politely— + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, nunky!” + </p> + <p> + “Who the devil is this?” gasps Prince Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Why the fact is, your Highnesses,” answered I, stepping up and laying my + sword on the table, while I pour'd out a glass, “Master Timothy Carter + here is my guardian, and has the small sum of L200 in his possession for + my use, of which I happen to-night to stand in immediate need. So you see—” + I finished the sentence by tossing off a glass. “This is rare stuff!” I + said. + </p> + <p> + “Blood and fury!” burst out Prince Rupert, fumbling for his sword, and + then gazing, drunk and helpless. + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred pound! Thou jackanapes—” began Master Carter. + </p> + <p> + “I'll let you off with fifty to-night,” said I. — “Ten thousand—!” + </p> + <p> + “No, fifty. Indeed, nunky,” I went on, “'tis very simple. I was at the + 'Crown' tavern—” + </p> + <p> + “At a tavern!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, at a game of dice—” + </p> + <p> + “Dice!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, and a young man was killed—” + </p> + <p> + “Thou shameless puppy! A man murder'd!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, nunky; and the worst is they say 'twas I that kill'd him.” + </p> + <p> + “He's mad. The boy's stark raving mad!” exclaim'd my kinsman. “To come + here in this trim!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, truly, nunky, thou art a strange one to talk of appearances. Oh, + dear!” and I burst into a wild fit of laughing, for the wine had warm'd me + up to play the comedy out. “To hear thee sing + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'With a fa—la—tweedle—tweedle!' +</pre> + <p> + and—Oh, nunky, that medlar on thy face is so funny!” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven's name, stop!” broke in the Prince Maurice. “Am I mad, or only + drunk? Rupert, if you love me, say I am no worse than drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord knows,” answer'd his brother. “I for one was never this way before.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, your Highnesses be only drunk,” said I, “and able at that to sign + the order that I shall ask you for.” + </p> + <p> + “An order!” + </p> + <p> + “To pass the city gates to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, stop him somebody,” groan'd Prince Rupert: “my head is whirling.” + </p> + <p> + “With your leave,” I explain'd, pouring out another glassful: “tis the + simplest matter, and one that a child could understand. You see, this + young man was kill'd, and they charg'd me with it; so away I ran, and the + Watch after me; and therefore I wish to pass the city gates. And as I may + have far to travel, and gave my last groat to a thief for hoisting me over + Master Carter's wall—” + </p> + <p> + “A thief—my wall!” repeated Master Carter. “Oh well is thy poor + mother in her grave!” + </p> + <p> + “—Why, therefore I came for money,” I wound up, sipping the wine, + and nodding to all present. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas at this moment that, catching my eye, the Prince Maurice slapp'd his + leg, and leaning back, broke into peal after peal of laughter. And in a + moment his brother took the jest also; and there we three sat and shook, + and roar'd unquenchably round Master Carter, who, staring blankly from one + to another, sat gaping, as though the last alarm were sounding in his + ears. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! oh! Hit me on the back, Maurice!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! I cannot—'tis killing me—Master Carter, for pity's + sake, look not so; but pay the lad his money.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Highness——” + </p> + <p> + “Pay it I say; pay it: 'tis fairly won.” + </p> + <p> + “Fifty pounds!” + </p> + <p> + “Every doit,” said I: “I'm sick of schooling.” + </p> + <p> + “Be hang'd if I do!” snapp'd Master Carter. + </p> + <p> + “Then be hang'd, sir, but all the town shall hear to-morrow of the frog + and the pool! No, sir: I am off to see the world—— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Says he: “This is better than moping in school!”'” + </pre> + <p> + “Your Highnesses,” pleaded the unhappy man, “if, to please you, I sang + that idiocy, which, for fifty years now, I had forgotten——” + </p> + <p> + “Exc'll'nt shong,” says Prince Rupert, waking up; “less have't again!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + To be short, ten o'clock was striking from St. Mary's spire when, with a + prince on either side of me, and thirty guineas in my pocket (which was + all the loose gold he had), I walked forth from Master Carter's door. To + make up the deficiency, their highnesses had insisted on furnishing me + with a suit made up from the simplest in their joint wardrobes—riding-boots, + breeches, buff-coat, sash, pistols, cloak, and feather'd hat, all of which + fitted me excellently well. By the doors of Christ Church, before we came + to the south gate, Prince Rupert, who had been staggering in his walk, + suddenly pull'd up, and leaned against the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Why—odd's my life—we've forgot a horse for him!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, your Highness,” I answered, “if my luck holds the same, I shall + find one by the road.” (How true this turned out you shall presently + hear.) + </p> + <p> + There was no difficulty at the gate, where the sentry recogniz'd the two + princes and open'd the wicket at once. Long after it had clos'd behind me, + and I stood looking back at Oxford towers, all bath'd in the winter + moonlight, I heard the two voices roaring away up the street: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “It was a frog leap'd into a pool—” + </pre> + <p> + At length they died into silence; and, hugging the king's letter in my + breast, I stepped briskly forward on my travels. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. — I TAKE THE ROAD. + </h2> + <p> + So puffed up was I by the condescension of the two princes, and my head so + busy with big thoughts, that not till I was over the bridges and climbing + the high ground beyond South Hincksey, with a shrewd northeast wind at my + back, could I spare time for a second backward look. By this, the city lay + spread at my feet, very delicate and beautiful in a silver network, with a + black clump or two to southward, where the line of Bagley trees ran below + the hill. I pulled out the letter that Anthony had given me. In the + moonlight the brown smear of his blood was plain to see, running across + the superscription: + </p> + <p> + “<i>To our trusty and well beloved Sir Ralph Hopton, at our Army in + Cornwall—these.</i>” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas no more than I look'd for; yet the sight of it and the king's red + seal, quicken'd my step as I set off again. And I cared not a straw for + Dr. Kettle's wrath on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay around + Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape my course for + Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. 'Tis not my purpose to + describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to reserve my pen for + those more moving events that overtook me later. Only in the uncertain + light I must have taken a wrong turn to the left (I think near + Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for, coming about daybreak + to a considerable town, I found it to be, not Faringdon, but Wantage. + There was no help for it, so I set about enquiring for a bed. The town was + full, and already astir with preparations for cattle-fair; and neither at + the “Bear” nor the “Three Nuns” was there a bed to be had. But at length + at the “Boot” tavern—a small house, I found one just vacated by a + couple of drovers, and having cozen'd the chambermaid to allow me a clean + pair of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in five minutes was + sleeping sound. + </p> + <p> + I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of womankind. + </p> + <p> + “He's waking,” said one. + </p> + <p> + “Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus—and he such a pretty young + man!” + </p> + <p> + This came from the landlady, who stood close, her hand shaking my shoulder + roughly. + </p> + <p> + “What's amiss?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Why, 'tis three of the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll get up, as soon as you retire.” + </p> + <p> + “Lud! we've been trying to wake thee this hour past; but 'twas sleep—sleep!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll get up, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thought thee'd ha' slept through the bed and right through to the floor,” + said the chambermaid by the door, tittering. + </p> + <p> + “Unless you pack and go, I'll step out amongst you all!” + </p> + <p> + Whereat they fled with mock squeals, calling out that the very thought + made them blush: and left me to dress. + </p> + <p> + Downstairs I found a giant's breakfast spread for me, and ate the hole, + and felt the better for it: and thereupon paid my scot, resisting the + landlady's endeavor to charge me double for the bed, and walked out to see + the town. + </p> + <p> + “Take care o' thysel',” the chambermaid bawled after me; “nor flourish thy + attainments abroad, lest they put thee in a show!” + </p> + <p> + Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended purchasing + a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over, the cattle-pens + broken up, and the dealers gather'd round the fiddlers, ballad singers, + and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming booths, too, driving a brisk + trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and Costly Colors; and an eating tent, + whence issued a thick reek of cooking and loud rattle of plates. Over the + entrance, I remember, was set a notice: “<i>Dame Alloway from Bartholomew + Fair. Here are the best geese, and she does them as well as ever she did</i>.” + I jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my pockets, for fear of + cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the street, there arose the + noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward it; and in a minute I was + left alone, standing before a juggler who had a sword halfway down his + throat, and had to draw it out again before he could with any sufficiency + curse the defection of his audience; but offered to pull out a tooth for + me if I wanted it. + </p> + <p> + I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn'd the cause of this + tumult. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking pockets: + and they were dragging him off to be duck'd. Now in the heart of Wantage + the little stream that runs through the town is widen'd into a cistern + about ten feet square, and five in depth, over which hung a ducking stool + for scolding wives. And since the townspeople draw their water from this + cistern, 'tis to be supposed they do not fear the infection. A long beam + on a pivot hangs out over the pool, and to the end is a chair fasten'd; + into which, despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped this poor + wretch, whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him. + </p> + <p> + Souse! he was plunged: hauled up choking and dripping: then—just as + he found tongue to shriek—souse! again. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a dismal punishment; and this time they kept him under for a full + half minute. But as the beam was lifted again, I heard a hullaballoo and a + cry— + </p> + <p> + “The bear! the bear!” + </p> + <p> + And turning, I saw a great brown form lumbering down the street behind, + and driving the people before it like chaff. + </p> + <p> + The crowd at the brink of the pool scatter'd to right and left, yelling. + Up flew the beam of the ducking stool, reliev'd of their weight, and down + with a splash went the pickpocket at the far end. As well for my own + skin's sake as out of pity to see him drowning, I jumped into the water. + In two strokes I reach'd him, gained footing, and with Anthony's sword cut + the straps away and pull'd him up. And there we stood, up to our necks, + coughing and spluttering; while on the deserted brink the bear sniff'd at + the water and regarded us. + </p> + <p> + No doubt we appear'd contemptible enough: for after a time he turned with + a louder sniff, and went his way lazily up the street again. He had broken + out from the pit wherein, for the best part of the day, they had baited + him; yet seemed to bear little malice. For he saunter'd about the town for + an hour or two, hurting no man, but making a clean sweep of every sweet + stall in his way; and was taken at last very easily, with his head in a + treacle cask, by the bear ward and a few dogs. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the pickpocket and I had scrambled out by the further bank and + wrung our clothes. He seemed to resent his treatment no more than did the + bear. + </p> + <p> + “Ben cove—'tis a good world. My thanks!” + </p> + <p> + And with this scant gratitude he was gone, leaving me to make my way back + to the sign of “The Boot,” where the chambermaid led me upstairs, and took + away my clothes to dry by the fire. I determin'd to buy a horse on the + morrow, and with my guineas and the King's letter under the pillow, + dropp'd off to slumber again. + </p> + <p> + My powers of sleep must have been nois'd abroad by the hostess: for next + morning at the breakfast ordinary, the dealers and drovers laid down knife + and fork to stare as I enter'd. After a while one or two lounged out and + brought in others to look: so that soon I was in a ring of stupid faces, + all gazing like so many cows. + </p> + <p> + For a while I affected to eat undisturbed: but lost patience at last and + addressed a red-headed gazer—— + </p> + <p> + “If you take me for a show, you ought to pay.” + </p> + <p> + “That's fair,” said the fellow, and laid a groat on the board. This came + near to putting me in a passion, but his face was serious. “'Tis a real + pleasure,” he added heartily, “to look on one so gifted.” + </p> + <p> + “If any of you,” I said, “could sell me a horse——” + </p> + <p> + At once there was a clamor, all bidding in one breath for my custom. So + finishing my breakfast, I walked out with them to the tavern yard, where I + had my pick among the sorriest-looking dozen of nags in England, and + finally bought from the red-haired man, for five pounds, bridle, saddle, + and a flea-bitten grey that seem'd more honestly raw-boned than the rest. + And the owner wept tears at the parting with his beast, and thereby added + a pang to the fraud he had already put upon me. And I rode from the tavern + door suspecting laughter in the eyes of every passer-by. + </p> + <p> + The day ('twas drawing near noon as I started) was cold and clear, with a + coating of rime over the fields: and my horse's feet rang cheerfully on + the frozen road. His pace was of the soberest: but, as I was no skilful + rider, this suited me rather than not. Only it was galling to be told so, + as happened before I had gone three miles. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas my friend the pickpocket: and he sat before a fire of dry sticks a + little way back from the road. His scanty hair, stiff as a badger's, now + stood upright around his batter'd cap, and he look'd at me over the + bushes, with his hook'd nose thrust forward like a bird's beak. + </p> + <p> + “Bien lightmans, comrade—good day! 'Tis a good world; so stop and + dine.” + </p> + <p> + I pull'd up my grey. + </p> + <p> + “Glad you find it so,” I answered; “you had a nigh chance to compare it + with the next, last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Shan't do so well i' the next, I fear,” he said with a twinkle: “but I + owe thee something, and here's a hedgehog that in five minutes'll be baked + to a turn. 'Tis a good world, and the better that no man can count on it. + Last night my dripping duds helped me to a cant tale, and got me a silver + penny from a man of religion. Good's in the worst; and life's like hunting + the squirrel—a man gets much good exercise thereat, but seldom what + he hunts for.” + </p> + <p> + “That's as good morality as Aristotle's,” said I. — “'Tis better for + <i>me</i>, because 'tis mine.” While I tether'd my horse he blew at the + embers, wherein lay a good-sized ball of clay, baking. After a while he + look'd up with red cheeks. “They were so fast set on drowning me,” he + continued with a wink, “they couldn't spare time to look i' my pocket—the + ruffin cly them!” + </p> + <p> + He pull'd the clay ball out of the fire, crack'd it, and lo! inside was a + hedgehog cook'd, the spikes sticking in the clay, and coming away with it. + So he divided the flesh with his knife, and upon a slice of bread from his + wallet it made very delicate eating: tho' I doubt if I enjoyed it as much + as did my comrade, who swore over and over that the world was good, and as + the wintry sun broke out, and the hot ashes warm'd his knees, began to + chatter at a great pace. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir, but for the pretty uncertainty of things I'd as lief die here + as I sit——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off at the sound of wheels, and a coach with two postillions spun + past us on the road. + </p> + <p> + I had just time to catch a glimpse of a figure huddled in the corner, and + a sweet pretty girl with chestnut curls seated beside it, behind the + glass. After the coach came a heavy broad-shoulder'd servant riding on a + stout grey; who flung us a sharp glance as he went by, and at twenty + yards' distance turn'd again to look. + </p> + <p> + “That's luck,” observed the pickpocket, as the travelers disappear'd down + the highway: “Tomorrow, with a slice of it, I might be riding in such a + coach as that, and have the hydropsy, to boot. Good lack! when I was ta'en + prisoner by the Turks a-sailing i' the <i>Mary</i> of London, and sold for + a slave at Algiers, I escap'd, after two months, with Eli Sprat, a + Gravesend man, in a small open boat. Well, we sail'd three days and + nights, and all the time there was a small sea bird following, flying + round and round us, and calling two notes that sounded for all the world + like 'Wind'ard! Wind'ard!' So at last says Eli, ''Tis heaven's voice + bidding us ply to wind'ard.' And so we did, and on the fourth day made + Marseilles; and who should be first to meet Eli on the quay but a + Frenchwoman he had married five years before, and left. And the jade had + him clapp'd in the pillory, alongside of a cheating fishmonger with a + collar of stinking smelts, that turn'd poor Eli's stomach completely. Now + there's somewhat to set against the story of Whittington next time 'tis + told you.” + </p> + <p> + I was now for bidding the old rascal good-bye. But he offer'd to go with + me as far as Hungerford, where we should turn into the Bath road. At first + I was shy of accepting, by reason of his coat, wherein patches of blue, + orange-tawny and flame-color quite overlaid the parent black: but closed + with him upon his promise to teach me the horsemanship that I so sadly + lacked. And by time we enter'd Hungerford town I was advanced so far, and + bestrode my old grey so easily, that in gratitude I offer'd him supper and + bed at an inn, if he would but buy a new coat: to which he agreed, saying + that the world was good. + </p> + <p> + By this, the day was clouded over and the rain coming down apace. So that + as soon as my comrade was decently array'd at the first slopshop we came + to, 'twas high time to seek an inn. We found quarters at “The Horn,” and + sought the travelers' room, and a fire to dry ourselves. + </p> + <p> + In this room, at the window, were two men who look'd lazily up at our + entrance. They were playing at a game, which was no other than to race two + snails up a pane of glass and wager which should prove the faster. + </p> + <p> + “A wet day!” said my comrade, cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + The pair regarded him. “I'll lay you a crown it clears within the hour!” + said one. + </p> + <p> + “And I another,” put in the other; and with that they went back to their + sport. + </p> + <p> + Drawing near, I myself was soon as eager as they in watching the snails, + when my companion drew my notice to a piece of writing on the window over + which they were crawling. 'Twas a set of verses scribbled there, that must + have been scratch'd with a diamond: and to my surprise—for I had not + guess'd him a scholar—he read them out for my benefit. Thus the + writing ran, for I copied it later: + </p> + <p> + “<i>Master Ephraim Tucker</i>, his dying councell to wayfardingers; to + seek <i>The Splendid Spur</i>. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Not on the necks of prince or hound, + Nor on a woman's finger twin'd, + May gold from the deriding ground + Keep sacred that we sacred bind + Only the heel + Of splendid steel + Shall stand secure on sliding fate, + When golden navies weep their freight. + + “The scarlet hat, the laurell'd stave + Are measures, not the springs, of worth; + In a wife's lap, as in a grave, + Man's airy notions mix with earth. + Seek other spur + Bravely to stir + The dust in this loud world, and tread + Alp-high among the whisp'ring dead. + + “<i>Trust in thyself</i>,—then spur amain: + So shall Charybdis wear a grace, + Grim Aetna laugh, the Lybian plain + Take roses to her shrivell'd face. + This orb—this round + Of sight and sound— + Count it the lists that God hath built + For haughty hearts to ride a-tilt. +</pre> + <p> + “FINIS-Master Tucker's Farewell.” + </p> + <p> + “And a very pretty moral on four gentlemen that pass their afternoon a + setting snails to race!” + </p> + <p> + At these words, spoken in a delicate foreign voice we all started round: + and saw a young lady standing behind us. + </p> + <p> + Now that she was the one who had passed us in the coach I saw at once. But + describe her—to be plain—I cannot, having tried a many times. + So let me say only that she was the prettiest creature on God's earth + (which, I hope, will satisfy her); that she had chestnut curls and a mouth + made for laughing; that she wore a kirtle and bodice of grey silk taffety, + with a gold pomander-box hung on a chain about her neck; and held out a + drinking glass toward us with a Frenchified grace. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, my father is sick, and will taste no water but what is freshly + drawn. I ask you not to brave Charybdis or Aetna, but to step out into the + rainy yard and draw me a glassful from the pump there: for our servant is + abroad in the town.” + </p> + <p> + To my deep disgust, before I could find a word, that villainous old + pickpocket had caught the glass from her hand and reached the door. But I + ran after; and out into the yard we stepp'd together, where I pump'd while + he held the glass to the spout, flinging away the contents time after + time, till the bubbles on the brim, and the film on the outside, were to + his liking. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas he, too, that gain'd the thanks on our return. + </p> + <p> + “Mistress,” said he with a bow, “my young friend is raw, but has a good + will. Confess, now, for his edification—for he is bound on a long + journey westward, where, they tell me, the maidens grow comeliest—that + looks avail naught with womankind beside a dashing manner.” + </p> + <p> + The young gentlewoman laughed, shaking her curls. + </p> + <p> + “I'll give him in that case three better counsels yet: first (for by his + habit I see he is on the King's side), let him take a circuit from this + place to the south, for the road between Marlboro' and Bristol is, they + tell me, all held by the rebels; next, let him avoid all women, even tho' + they ask but an innocent cup of water; and lastly, let him shun thee, + unless thy face lie more than thy tongue. Shall I say more?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no—perhaps better not,” replied the old rogue hastily, but + laughing all the same. “That's a clever lass,” he added, as the door shut + behind her. + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, I was fain, next morning, to agree to this. For, awaking, I + found my friend (who had shar'd a room with me) already up and gone, and + discovered the reason in a sheet of writing pinn'd to my clothes—— + </p> + <p> + “Young Sir,—I convict myself of ingratitude: but habit is hard to + break. So I have made off with the half of thy guineas and thy horse. The + residue, and the letter thou bearest, I leave. 'Tis a good world, and + experience should be bought early. This golden lesson I leave in return + for the guineas. Believe me, 'tis of more worth. Read over those verses on + the windowpane before starting, digest them, and trust me, thy obliged, + </p> + <p> + “Peter, The Jackman. + </p> + <p> + “Raise not thy hand so often to thy breast: 'tis a sure index of hidden + valuables.” + </p> + <p> + Be sure I was wroth enough: nor did the calm interest of the two snail + owners appease me, when at breakfast I told them a part of the story. But + I thought I read sympathy in the low price at which one of them offer'd me + his horse. 'Twas a tall black brute, very strong in the loins, and I + bought him at once out of my shrunken stock of guineas. At ten o'clock, I + set out, not along the Bath road, but bearing to the south, as the young + gentlewoman had counselled. I began to hold a high opinion of her advice. + </p> + <p> + By twelve o'clock I was back at the inn door, clamoring to see the man + that sold me the horse, which had gone dead lame after the second mile. + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart!” cried the landlord; “they are gone, the both, this hour and + a half. But they are coming again within the fortnight; and I'm expressly + to report if you return'd, as they had a wager about it.” + </p> + <p> + I turn'd away, pondering. Two days on the road had put me sadly out of + conceit with myself. For mile upon mile I trudged, dragging the horse + after me by the bridle, till my arms felt as if coming from their sockets. + I would have turn'd the brute loose, and thought myself well quit of him, + had it not been for the saddle and bridle he carried. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 'Twas about five in the evening, and I still laboring along, when, over + the low hedge to my right, a man on a sorrel mare leap'd easily as a + swallow, and alighted some ten paces or less in front of me; where he + dismounted and stood barring my path. The muzzle of his pistol was in my + face before I could lay hand to my own. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening!” said I. — “You have money about you, doubtless,” + growled the man curtly, and in a voice that made me start. For by his + voice and figure in the dusk I knew him for Captain Settle: and in the + sorrel with the high white stocking I recognized the mare, Molly, that + poor Anthony Killigrew had given me almost with his last breath. + </p> + <p> + The bully did not know me, having but seen me for an instant at “The + Crown,” and then in very different attire. + </p> + <p> + “I have but a few poor coins,” I answer'd. + </p> + <p> + “Then hand 'em over.” + </p> + <p> + “Be shot if I do!” said I in a passion; and pulling out a handful from my + pocket, I dash'd them down in the road. + </p> + <p> + For a moment the Captain took his pistol from my face, and stooped to + clutch at the golden coins as they trickled and ran to right and left. The + next, I had struck out with my right fist, and down he went staggering. + His pistol dropped out of his hand and exploded between my feet. I rush'd + to Molly, caught her bridle, and leap'd on her back. 'Twas a near thing, + for the Captain was rushing toward us. But at the call of my voice the + mare gave a bound and turn'd: and down the road I was borne, light as a + feather. + </p> + <p> + A bullet whizz'd past my ear: I heard the Captain's curse mingle with the + report: and then was out of range, and galloping through the dusk. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. — MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE CUPS.” + </h2> + <p> + Secure of pursuit, and full of delight in the mare's easy motion, I must + have travelled a good six miles before the moon rose. In the frosty sky + her rays sparkled cheerfully, and by them I saw on the holsters the silver + demi-bear that I knew to be the crest of the Killigrews, having the fellow + to it engraved on my sword-hilt. So now I was certain 'twas Molly that I + bestrode: and took occasion of the light to explore the holsters and + saddle flap. + </p> + <p> + Poor Anthony's pistols were gone—filched, no doubt, by the Captain: + but you may guess my satisfaction, when on thrusting my hand deeper, I + touched a heap of coins, and found them to be gold. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas certainly a rare bargain I had driven with Captain Settle. For the + five or six gold pieces I scatter'd on the road, I had won close on thirty + guineas, as I counted in the moonlight; not to speak of this incomparable + Molly. And I began to whistle gleefully, and taste the joke over again and + laugh to myself, as we cantered along with the north wind at our backs. + </p> + <p> + All the same, I had no relish for riding thus till morning. For the night + was chill enough to search my very bones after the heat of the late + gallop: and, moreover, I knew nothing of the road, which at this hour was + quite deserted. So that, coming at length to a tall hill with a black + ridge of pine wood standing up against the moon like a fish's fin, I was + glad enough to note below it, and at some distance from the trees, a + window brightly lit; and pushed forward in hope of entertainment. + </p> + <p> + The building was an inn, though a sorry one. Nor, save for the lighted + window, did it wear any grace of hospitality, but thrust out a bare + shoulder upon the road, and a sign that creaked overhead and look'd for + all the world like a gallows. Round this shoulder of the house, and into + the main yard (that turn'd churlishly toward the hillside), the wind + howled like a beast in pain. I climb'd off Molly, and pressing my hat down + on my head, struck a loud rat-tat on the door. + </p> + <p> + Curiously, it opened at once; and I saw a couple of men in the lighted + passage. + </p> + <p> + “Heard the mare's heels on the road, Cap—. Hillo! What in the + fiend's name is this?” + </p> + <p> + Said I: “If you are he that keeps this house, I want two things of you—first, + a civil tongue, and next a bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye'll get neither, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sign says that you keep an inn.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—the 'Three Cups': but we're full.” + </p> + <p> + “Your manner of speech proves that to be a lie.” + </p> + <p> + I liked the fellow's voice so little that 'tis odds I would have + re-mounted Molly and ridden away; but at this instant there floated down + the stairs and out through the drink-smelling passage a sound that made me + jump. 'Twas a girl's voice singing—— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Hey nonni—nonni—no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is't not fine to laugh and sing + When the hells of death do ring——” + </pre> + <p> + There was no doubt upon it. The voice belonged to the young gentlewoman I + had met at Hungerford. I turned sharply toward the landlord, and was met + by another surprise. The second man, that till now had stood well back in + the shadow, was peering forward, and devouring Molly with his gaze. 'Twas + hard to read his features, but then and there I would have wagered my life + he was no other than Luke Settle's comrade, Black Dick. + </p> + <p> + My mind was made up. “I'll not ride a step further, to-night,” said I. + — “Then bide there and freeze,” answer'd the landlord. + </p> + <p> + He was for slamming the door in my face, when the other caught him by the + arm and, pulling him a little back, whisper'd a word or two. I guess'd + what this meant, but resolved not to draw back; and presently the + landlord's voice began again, betwixt surly and polite—— + </p> + <p> + “Have ye too high a stomach to lie on straw?” + </p> + <p> + “Oho!” thought I to myself, “then I am to be kept for the mare's sake, but + not admitted to the house:” and said aloud that I could put up with a + straw bed. + </p> + <p> + “Because there's the stable loft at your service. As ye hear” (and in fact + the singing still went on, only now I heard a man's voice joining in the + catch) “our house is full of company. But straw is clean bedding, and the + mare I'll help to put in stall.” + </p> + <p> + “Agreed,” I said, “on one condition—that you send out a maid to me + with a cup of mulled sack: for this cold eats me alive.” + </p> + <p> + To this he consented: and stepping back into a side room with the other + fellow, returned in a minute alone, and carrying a lantern which, in spite + of the moon, was needed to guide a stranger across that ruinous yard. The + flare, as we pick'd our way along, fell for a moment on an open cart shed + and, within, on the gilt panels of a coach that I recogniz'd. In the + stable, that stood at the far end of the court, I was surprised to find + half a dozen horses standing, ready saddled, and munching their fill of + oats. They were ungroom'd, and one or two in a lather of sweat that on + such a night was hard to account for. But I asked no questions, and my + companion vouchsafed no talk, though twice I caught him regarding me + curiously as I unbridled the mare in the only vacant stall. Not a word + pass'd as he took the lantern off the peg again, and led the way up a + ramshackle ladder to the loft above. He was a fat, lumbering fellow, and + made the old timbers creak. At the top he set down the light, and pointed + to a heap of straw in the corner. + </p> + <p> + “Yon's your bed,” he growled; and before I could answer, was picking his + way down the ladder again. + </p> + <p> + I look'd about, and shiver'd. The eaves of my bedchamber were scarce on + speaking terms with the walls, and through a score of crannies at least + the wind poured and whistled, so that after shifting my truss of straw a + dozen times I found myself still the centre of a whirl of draught. The + candle-flame, too, was puffed this way and that inside the horn sheath. I + was losing patience when I heard footsteps below; the ladder creak'd, and + the red hair and broad shoulders of a chambermaid rose into view. She + carried a steaming mug in her hand, and mutter'd all the while in no very + choice talk. + </p> + <p> + The wench had a kind face, tho'; and a pair of eyes that did her more + credit than her tongue. + </p> + <p> + “And what's to be my reward for this, I want to know?” she panted out, + resting her left palm on her hip. + </p> + <p> + “Why, a groat or two,” said I, “when it comes to the reckoning.” + </p> + <p> + “Lud!” she cried, “what a dull young man!” + </p> + <p> + “Dull?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—to make me ask for a kiss in so many words:” and with the back + of her left hand she wiped her mouth for it frankly, while she held out + the mug in her right. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” I said, “I beg your pardon, but my wits are frozen up, I think. + There's two, for interest: and another if you tell me whom your master + entertains to-night, that I must be content with this crib.” + </p> + <p> + She took the kisses with composure and said—- + </p> + <p> + “Well—to begin, there's the gentlefolk that came this afternoon with + their own carriage and heathenish French servant: a cranky old grandee and + a daughter with more airs than a peacock: Sir Something-or-other Killigew—Lord + bless the boy!” + </p> + <p> + For I had dropp'd the mug and split the hot sack all about the straw, + where it trickled away with a fragrance reproachfully delicious. + </p> + <p> + “Now I beg your pardon a hundred times: but the chill is in my bones worse + than the ague;” and huddling my shoulders up, I counterfeited a shivering + fit with a truthfulness that surpris'd myself. + </p> + <p> + “Poor lad!” + </p> + <p> + “—And 'tis first hot and then cold all down my spine.” + </p> + <p> + “There, now!” + </p> + <p> + “-And goose flesh and flushes all over my body.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart-and to pass the night in this grave of a place!” + </p> + <p> + “—And by morning I shall be in a high fever: and oh! I feel I shall + die of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't—don't!” The honest girl's eyes were full of tears. “I wonder, + now—” she began: and I waited, eager for her next words. “Sure, + master's at cards in the parlor, and 'll be drunk by midnight. Shalt pass + the night by the kitchen fire, if only thou make no noise.” + </p> + <p> + “But your mistress—what will she say?” + </p> + <p> + “Is in heaven these two years: and out of master's speaking distance + forever. So blow out the light and follow me gently.” + </p> + <p> + Still feigning to shiver, I follow'd her down the ladder, and through the + stable into the open. The wind by this time had brought up some heavy + clouds, and mass'd them about the moon: but 'twas freezing hard, + nevertheless. The girl took me by the hand to guide me: for, save from the + one bright window in the upper floor, there was no light at all in the + yard. Clearly, she was in dread of her master's anger, for we stole across + like ghosts, and once or twice she whisper'd a warning when my toe kick'd + against a loose cobble. But just as I seem'd to be walking into a stone + wall, she put out her hand, I heard the click of a latch, and stood in a + dark, narrow passage. + </p> + <p> + The passage led to a second door that open'd on a wide, stone-pav'd + kitchen, lit by a cheerful fire, whereon a kettle hissed and bubbled as + the vapor lifted the cover. Close by the chimney corner was a sort of + trap, or buttery hatch, for pushing the hot dishes conveniently into the + parlor on the other side of the wall. Besides this, for furniture, the + room held a broad deal table, an oak dresser, a linen press, a rack with + hams and strings of onions depending from it, a settle and a chair or two, + with (for decoration) a dozen or so of ballad sheets stuck among the dish + covers along the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Sit,” whisper'd the girl, “and make no noise, while I brew a rack-punch + for the men-folk in the parlor.” She jerked her thumb toward the buttery + hatch, where I had already caught the mur-mer of voices. + </p> + <p> + I took up a chair softly, and set it down between the hatch and the + fireplace, so that while warming my knees I could catch any word spoken + more than ordinary loud on the other side of the wall. The chambermaid + stirr'd the fire briskly, and moved about singing as she fetch'd down + bottles and glasses from the dresser—— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Lament ye maids an' darters + For constant Sarah Ann, + Who hang'd hersel' in her garters + All for the love o' man, + All for the—” + </pre> + <p> + She was pausing, bottle in hand, to take the high note: but hush'd + suddenly at the sound of the voices singing in the room upstairs—- + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Vivre en tout cas + C'est le grand soulas + Des honnetes gens!” + </pre> + <p> + “That's the foreigners,” said the chambermaid, and went on with her ditty—— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “All for the love of a souljer + Who christening name was Jan.” + </pre> + <p> + A volley of oaths sounded through the buttery hatch. + </p> + <p> + “—And that's the true-born Englishmen, as you may tell by their + speech. 'Tis pretty company the master keeps, these days.” + </p> + <p> + She was continuing her song, when I held up a finger for silence. In fact, + through the hatch my ear had caught a sentence that set me listening for + more with a still heart. + </p> + <p> + “D—n the Captain,” the landlord's gruff voice was saying; “I warn'd + 'n agen this fancy business when sober, cool-handed work was toward.” + </p> + <p> + “Settle's way from his cradle,” growl'd another; “and times enough I've + told 'n: 'Cap'n,' says I, 'there's no sense o' proportions about ye.' A + master mind, sirs, but 'a 'll be hang'd for a hen-roost, so sure as my + name's Bill Widdicomb.” + </p> + <p> + “Ugly words-what a creeping influence has that same mention o' hanging!” + piped a thinner voice. + </p> + <p> + “Hold thy complaints, Old Mortification,” put in a speaker that I + recogniz'd for Black Dick; “sure the pretty maid upstairs is tender game. + Hark how they sing!” + </p> + <p> + And indeed the threatened folk upstairs were singing their catch very + choicely, with a girl's clear voice to lead them—- + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Comment dit papa + —Margoton, ma mie?” + </pre> + <p> + “Heathen language, to be sure,” said the thin voice again, as the chorus + ceased: “thinks I to mysel' 'they be but Papisters,' an' my doubting mind + is mightily reconcil'd to manslaughter.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like beginning 'ithout the Cap'n,” observed Black Dick: “though I + doubt something has miscarried. Else, how did that young spark ride in + upon the mare?” + </p> + <p> + “An' that's what thy question should ha' been, Dick, with a pistol to his + skull.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll keep till the morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll give Settle half-an-hour more,” said the landlord: “Mary!” he + push'd open the hatch, so that I had barely time to duck my head out of + view, “fetch in the punch, girl. How did'st leave the young man i' the + loft?' + </p> + <p> + “Asleep, or nearly,” answer'd Mary— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Who hang'd hersel' in her gar-ters, + All for the love o' man—” + </pre> + <p> + “—Anon, anon, master: wait only till I get the kettle on the boil.” + </p> + <p> + The hatch was slipp'd to again. I stood up and made a step toward the + girl. + </p> + <p> + “How many are they?” I ask'd, jerking a finger in the direction of the + parlor. + </p> + <p> + “A dozen all but one.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the foreign guests' room?” + </p> + <p> + “Left hand, on the first landing.” + </p> + <p> + “The staircase?” + </p> + <p> + “Just outside the door.” + </p> + <p> + “Then sing—go on singing for your life.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Sing!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart, they'll murder thee! Oh! for pity's sake, let go my wrist—- + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Lament, ye maids an' darters—'” + </pre> + <p> + I stole to the door and peep'd out. A lantern hung in the passage, and + showed the staircase directly in front of me. I stay'd for a moment to + pull off my boots, and, holding them in my left hand, crept up the stairs. + In the kitchen, the girl was singing and clattering the glasses together. + Behind the door, at the head of the stairs, I heard voices talking. I + slipp'd on my boots again and tapp'd on the panel. + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + Let me try to describe that on which my eyes rested as I push'd the door + wide. 'Twas a long room, wainscoted half up the wall in some dark wood, + and in daytime lit by one window only, which now was hung with red + curtains. By the fireplace, where a brisk wood fire was crackling, lean'd + the young gentlewoman I had met at Hungerford, who, as she now turn'd her + eyes upon me, ceas'd fingering the guitar or mandoline that she held + against her waist, and raised her pretty head not without curiosity. + </p> + <p> + But 'twas on the table in the centre of the chamber that my gaze settled; + and on two men beside it, of whom I must speak more particularly. + </p> + <p> + The elder, who sat in a high-back'd chair, was a little, frail, deform'd + gentleman of about fifty, dress'd very richly in dark velvet and furs, and + wore on his head a velvet skullcap, round which his white hair stuck up + like a ferret's. But the oddest thing about him was a complexion that any + maid of sixteen would give her ears for—of a pink and white so + transparent that it seem'd a soft light must be glowing beneath his skin. + On either cheek bone this delicate coloring centred in a deeper flush. + This is as much as I need say about his appearance, except that his eyes + were very bright and sharp, and his chin stuck out like a vicious mule's. + </p> + <p> + The table before him was cover'd with bottles and flasks, in the middle of + which stood a silver lamp burning, and over it a silver saucepan that sent + up a rare fragrance as the liquid within it simmer'd and bubbled. So eager + was the old gentleman in watching the progress of his mixture, that he + merely glanc'd up at my entrance, and then, holding up a hand for silence, + turn'd his eyes on the saucepan again. + </p> + <p> + The second man was the broad-shouldered lackey I had seen riding behind + the coach: and now stood over the saucepan with a twisted flask in his + hand, from which he pour'd a red syrup very gingerly, drop by drop, with + the tail of his eye turn'd on his master's face, that he might know when + to cease. + </p> + <p> + Now it may be that my entrance upset this experiment in strong drinks. At + any rate, I had scarce come to a stand about three paces inside the door, + when the little old gentleman bounces up in a fury, kicks over his chair, + hurls the nearest bottles to right and left, and sends the silver saucepan + spinning across the table to my very feet, where it scalded me clean + through the boot, and made me hop for pain. + </p> + <p> + “Spoil'd—spoil'd!” he scream'd: “drench'd in filthy liquor, when it + should have breath'd but a taste!” + </p> + <p> + And, to my amazement, he sprang on the strapping servant like a wild-cat, + and began to beat, cuff, and belabor him with all the strength of his puny + limbs. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas like a scene out of Bedlam. Yet all the while the girl lean'd + quietly against the mantelshelf, and softly touched the strings of her + instrument; while the servant took the rain of blows and slaps as though + 'twere a summer shower, grinning all over his face, and making no + resistance at all. + </p> + <p> + Then, as I stood dumb with perplexity, the old gentleman let go his hold + of the fellow's hair, and, dropping on the floor, began to roll about in a + fit of coughing, the like of which no man can imagine. 'Twas hideous. He + bark'd, and writhed, and bark'd again, till the disorder seem'd to search + and rack every innermost inch of his small frame. And in the intervals of + coughing his exclamations were terrible to listen to. + </p> + <p> + “He's dying!” I cried; and ran forward to help. + </p> + <p> + The servant pick'd up the chair, and together we set him in it. By degrees + the violence of the cough abated, and he lay back, livid in the face, with + his eyes closed, and his hands clutching the knobs of the chair. I turn'd + to the girl. She had neither spoken nor stirr'd, but now came forward, and + calmly ask'd my business. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said I, “that your name is Killigrew?” + </p> + <p> + “I am Delia Killigrew, and this is my father, Sir Deakin.” + </p> + <p> + “Now on his way to visit his estates in Cornwall?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Then I have to warn you that your lives are in danger.” And, gently as + possible, I told her what I had seen and heard downstairs. In the middle + of my tale, the servant stepp'd to the door, and return'd quietly. There + was no lock on the inside. After a minute he went across, and drew the red + curtains. The window had a grating within, of iron bars as thick as a + man's thumb, strongly clamp'd in the stonework, and not four inches apart. + Clearly, he was a man of few words; for, returning, he merely pull'd out + his sword, and waited for the end of my tale. + </p> + <p> + The girl, also, did not interrupt me, but listen'd in silence. As I + ceas'd, she said—— + </p> + <p> + “Is this all you know?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answer'd I, “it is not. But the rest I promise to tell you if we + escape from this place alive. Will this content you?” + </p> + <p> + She turn'd to the servant, who nodded. Whereupon she held out her hand + very cordially. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, listen: we are travelers bound for Cornwall, as you know, and have + some small possessions, that will poorly reward the greed of these violent + men. Nevertheless, we should be hurrying on our journey did we not await + my brother Anthony, who was to have ridden from Oxford to join us here, + but has been delayed, doubtless on the King's business——” + </p> + <p> + She broke off, as I started: for below I heard the main door open, and + Captain Settle's voice in the passage. The arch villain had return'd. + </p> + <p> + “Mistress Delia,” I said hurriedly, “the twelfth man has enter'd the + house, and unless we consider our plans at once, all's up with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Tush!” said the old gentleman in the chair, who (it seems) had heard all, + and now sat up brisk as ever. “I, for my part shall mix another glass, and + leave it all to Jacques. Come, sit by me, sir, and you shall see some + pretty play. Why, Jacques is the neatest rogue with a small sword in all + France!” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” I put in, “they are a round dozen in all, and your life at present + is not worth a penny's purchase.” + </p> + <p> + “That's a lie! 'Tis worth this bowl before me, that, with or without you, + I mean to empty. What a fool thing is youth! Sir, you must be a dying man + like myself to taste life properly.” And, as I am a truthful man, he + struck up quavering merrily— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Hey, nonni—nonni—no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is't not fine to laugh and sing + When the bells of death do ring? + Is't not fine to drown in wine, + And turn upon the toe, + And sing, hey—nonni—no? + Hey, nonni—nonni—” + </pre> + <p> + “—Come and sit, sir, nor spoil sport. You are too raw, I'll wager, + to be of any help; and boggling I detest.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir,” I broke in, now thoroughly anger'd, “I can use the small + sword as well as another.” + </p> + <p> + “Tush! Try him, Jacques.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques, still wearing a stolid face, brought his weapon to the guard. + Stung to the quick, I wheel'd round, and made a lunge or two, that he put + aside as easily as though I were a babe. And then—I know not how it + happened, but my sword slipp'd like ice out of my grasp, and went flying + across the room. Jacques, sedately as on a matter of business, stepp'd to + pick it up, while the old gentleman chuckled. + </p> + <p> + I was hot and asham'd, and a score of bitter words sprang to my + tongue-tip, when the Frenchman, as he rose from stooping, caught my eye, + and beckon'd me across to him. + </p> + <p> + He was white as death, and pointed to the hilt of my sword and the + demi-bear engrav'd thereon. + </p> + <p> + “He is dead,” I whisper'd: “hush!—turn your face aside—killed + by those same dogs that are now below.” + </p> + <p> + I heard a sob in the true fellow's throat. But on the instant it was + drown'd by the sound of a door opening and the tramp of feet on the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. — THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD. + </h2> + <p> + By the sound of their steps I guess'd one or two of these dozen rascals to + be pretty far gone in drink, and afterward found this to be the case. I + look'd round. Sir Deakin had pick'd up the lamp and was mixing his bowl of + punch, humming to himself without the least concern—— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Vivre en tout cas + C'est le grand soulas”— +</pre> + <p> + with a glance at his daughter's face, that was white to the lips, but + firmly set. + </p> + <p> + “Hand me the nutmeg yonder,” he said, and then, “why, daughter, what's + this?—a trembling hand?” + </p> + <p> + And all the while the footsteps were coming up. + </p> + <p> + There was a loud knock on the door. + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” call'd Sir Deakin. + </p> + <p> + At this, Jacques, who stood ready for battle by the entrance, wheeled + round, shot a look at his master, and dropping his point, made a sign to + me to do the same. The door was thrust rudely open, and Captain Settle, + his hat cock'd over one eye, and sham drunkenness in his gait, lurched + into the room, with the whole villainous crew behind him, huddled on the + threshold. Jacques and I stepp'd quietly back, so as to cover the girl. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: The door was thrust rudely open.—Page 88.} + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind waiting a moment?” inquir'd Sir Deakin, without looking + up, but rubbing the nutmeg calmly up and down the grater: “a fraction too + much, and the whole punch will be spoil'd.” + </p> + <p> + It took the Captain aback, and he came to a stand, eyeing us, who look'd + back at him without saying a word. And this discomposed him still further. + </p> + <p> + There was a minute during which the two parties could hear each other's + breathing. Sir Deakin set down the nutmeg, wiped his thin white fingers on + a napkin, and address'd the Captain sweetly— + </p> + <p> + “Before asking your business, sir, I would beg you and your company to + taste this liquor, which, in the court of France”—the old gentleman + took a sip from the mixing ladle—“has had the extreme honor to be + pronounced divine.” He smack'd his lips, and rising to his feet, let his + right hand rest on the silver foot of the lamp as he bowed to the Captain. + </p> + <p> + Captain Settle's bravado was plainly oozing away before this polite + audacity: and seeing Sir Deakin taste the punch, he pull'd off his cap in + a shamefaced manner and sat down by the table with a word of thanks. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, sirs—come in!” call'd the old gentleman; “and follow your + friend's example. 'Twill be a compliment to make me mix another bowl when + this is finish'd.” He stepped around the table to welcome them, still + resting his hand on the lamp, as if for steadiness. I saw his eye twinkle + as they shuffled in and stood around the chair where the Captain was + seated. + </p> + <p> + “Jacques, bring glasses from the cupboard yonder! And, Delia, fetch up + some chairs for our guests—no, sirs, pray do not move!” + </p> + <p> + He had waved his hand lightly to the door as he turned to us: and in an + instant the intention as well as the bright success of this comedy flash'd + upon me. There was now no one between us and the stairs, and as for Sir + Deakin himself, he had already taken the step of putting the table's width + between him and his guests. + </p> + <p> + I touch'd the girl's arm, and we made as if to fetch a couple of chairs + that stood against the wainscot by the door. As we did so, Sir Deakin + push'd the punch bowl forward under the Captain's nose. + </p> + <p> + “Smell, sir,” he cried airily, “and report to your friends on the + foretaste.” + </p> + <p> + Settle's nose hung over the steaming compound. With a swift pass of the + hand, the old gentleman caught up the lamp and had shaken a drop of + burning oil into the bowl. A great blaze leap'd to the ceiling. There was + a howl—a scream of pain; and as I push'd Mistress Delia through the + doorway and out to the head of the stairs, I caught a backward glimpse of + Sir Deakin rushing after us, with one of the stoutest among the robbers at + his heels. + </p> + <p> + “Downstairs, for your life!” I whisper'd to the girl, and turning, as her + father tumbled past me, let his pursuer run on my sword, as on a spit. At + the same instant, another blade pass'd through the fellow transversely, + and Jacques stood beside me, with his back to the lintel. + </p> + <p> + As we pull'd our swords out and the man dropp'd, I had a brief view into + the room, where now the blazing liquid ran off the table in a stream. + Settle, stamping with agony, had his palms press'd against his scorch'd + eyelids. The fat landlord, in trying to beat out the flames, had increased + them by upsetting two bottles of aqua vitae, and was dancing about with + three fingers in his mouth. The rest stood for the most part + dumbfounder'd: but Black Dick had his pistol lifted. + </p> + <p> + Jacques and I sprang out for the landing and round the doorway. Between + the flash and the report I felt a sudden scrape, as of a red-hot wire, + across my left thigh and just above the knee. + </p> + <p> + “Tenez, camarade,” said Jacques' voice in my ear; “a moi la porte—a + vous le maitre, la-bas:” and he pointed down the staircase, where, by the + glare of the conflagration that beat past us, I saw the figures of Sir + Deakin and his daughter standing. + </p> + <p> + “But how can you keep the door against a dozen?” + </p> + <p> + The Frenchman shrugg'd his shoulders with a smile—- + </p> + <p> + “Mais-comme ca!” + </p> + <p> + For at this moment came a rush of footsteps within the room. I saw a fat + paunch thrusting past us, a quiet pass of steel, and the landlord was + wallowing on his face across the threshold. Jacques' teeth snapp'd + together as he stood ready for another victim: and as the fellows within + the room tumbled back, he motion'd me to leave him. + </p> + <p> + I sprang from his side, and catching the rail of the staircase, reach'd + the foot in a couple of bounds. + </p> + <p> + “Hurry!” I cried, and caught the old baronet by the hand. His daughter + took the other, and between us we hurried him across the passage for the + kitchen door. + </p> + <p> + Within, the chambermaid was on her knees by the settle, her face and apron + of the same hue. I saw she was incapable of helping, and hasten'd across + the stone floor, and out toward the back entrance. + </p> + <p> + A stream of icy wind blew in our faces as we stepp'd over the threshold. + The girl and I bent our heads to it, and stumbling, tripping, and panting, + pull'd Sir Deakin with us out into the cold air. + </p> + <p> + The yard was no longer dark. In the room above someone had push'd the + casement open, letting in the wind: and by this 'twas very evident the + room was on fire. Indeed, the curtains had caught, and as we ran, a pennon + of flame shot out over our heads, licking the thatch. In the glare of it + the outbuildings and the yard gate stood clearly out from the night. I + heard the trampling of feet, the sound of Settle's voice shouting an + order, and then a dismal yell and clash of steel as we flung open the + gate. + </p> + <p> + “Jacques!” scream'd the old gentleman: “my poor Jacques! Those dogs will + mangle him with their cut and thrust—” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas very singular and sad, but as if in answer to Sir Deakin's cry, we + heard the brave fellow's voice; and a famous shout it must have been to + reach us over the roaring of the flames— + </p> + <p> + “Mon maitre-mon maitre!” he call'd twice, and then “Sauve toi!” in a + fainter voice, yet clear. And after that only a racket of shouts and + outcries reach'd us. Without doubt the villains had overpower'd and slain + this brave servant. In spite of our peril (for they would be after us at + once), 'twas all we could do to drag the old man from the gate and up the + road: and as he went he wept like a child. + </p> + <p> + After about fifty yards, we turn'd in at a gate, and began to cut across a + field: for I hop'd thus not only to baffle pursuit for a while, but also + to gain the wood that we saw dimly ahead. It reach'd to the top of the + hill, and I knew not how far beyond: and as I was reflecting that there + lay our chance of safety, I heard the inn door below burst open with loud + cries, and the sound of footsteps running up the road after us. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, to complete our fix, the clouds that had been scurrying across + the moon's face, now for a minute left a clear interval of sky about her: + so that right in our course there lay a great patch brilliantly lit, + whereon our figures could be spied at once by anyone glancing into the + field. Also, it grew evident that Sir Deakin's late agility was but a + short and sudden triumph of will over body: for his poor crooked legs + began to trail and lag sadly. So turning sharp about, we struck for the + hedge's shadow, and there pull'd him down in a dry ditch, and lay with a + hand on his mouth to stifle his ejaculations, while we ourselves held our + breathing. + </p> + <p> + The runners came up the road, pausing for a moment by the gate. I heard it + creak, and saw two or three dark forms enter the field—the remainder + tearing on up the road with a great clatter of boots. + </p> + <p> + “Alas, my poor Jacques!” moan'd Sir Deakin: “and to be butcher'd so, that + never in his days kill'd a man but as if he lov'd him!” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” I whisper'd harshly, “if you keep this noise I must gag you.” And + with that he was silent for awhile. + </p> + <p> + There was a thick tangle of brambles in the ditch where we lay: and to + this we owe our lives. For one of the men, coming our way, pass'd within + two yards of us, with the flat of his sword beating the growth over our + heads. + </p> + <p> + “Reu-ben! Reuben Gedges!” call'd a voice by the gate. + </p> + <p> + The fellow turn'd; and peeping between the bramble twigs, I saw the + moonlight glittering on his blade. A narrow, light-hair'd man he was, with + a weak chin: and since then I have paid him out for the fright he gave us. + </p> + <p> + “What's the coil?” he shouted back. + </p> + <p> + “The stable roofs ablaze—for the Lord's sake come and save the + hosses!” + </p> + <p> + He strode back, and in a minute the field was clear. Creeping out with + caution, I grew aware of two mournful facts: first, that the stable was + indeed afire, as I perceiv'd by standing on tiptoe and looking over the + hedge; and second, that my knee was hurt by Black Dick's bullet. The + muscles had stiffened while we were crouching, and now pain'd me badly. + Yet I kept it to myself as we started off again to run. + </p> + <p> + But at the stile that, at the top of the field, led into the woods, I + pull'd up— + </p> + <p> + “Sorry I am to say it, but you must go on without me.” + </p> + <p> + “O—oh!” cried the girl. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis for your safety. See, I leave a trail of blood behind me, so that + when day rises they will track us easily.” + </p> + <p> + And sure enough, even by the moon, 'twas easy to trace the dark spots on + the grass and earth beside the stile. My left boot, too, was full of + blood. + </p> + <p> + She was silent for awhile. Down in the valley we could hear the screams of + the poor horses. The light of the flames lit up the pine trunks about us + to a bright scarlet. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you hold our gratitude cheaply.” + </p> + <p> + She unwound the kerchief from her neck, and making me sit on the stile, + bound up my knee skillfully, twisting a short stick in the bandage to stop + the bleeding. + </p> + <p> + I thank'd her, and we hurried on into the depths of the wood, treading + silently on the deep carpet of pine needles. The ground rose steeply all + the way: and all the way, tho' the light grew feebler, the roar and + outcries in the valley follow'd us. + </p> + <p> + Toward the hill's summit the trees were sparser. Looking upward, I saw + that the sky had grown thickly overcast. We cross'd the ridge, and after a + minute or so were in thick cover again. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas here that Sir Deakin's strength gave out. Almost without warning, he + sank down between our hands, and in a second was taken with that hateful + cough, that once already this night had frightened me for his life. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ah!” he groaned, between the spasms, “I'm not fit—I'm not fit + for it!” and was taken again, and roll'd about barking, so that I fear'd + the sound would bring all Settle's gang on our heels. “I'm not fit for + it!” he repeated, as the cough left him, and he lay back helpless, among + the pine needles. + </p> + <p> + Now, I understood his words to bear on his unfitness for death, and judg'd + them very decent and properly spoken: and took occasion to hint this in my + attempts to console him. + </p> + <p> + “Why, bless the boy!” he cried, sitting up and staring, “for what d'ye + think I'm unsuited?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to die, sir—to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “Holy Mother!” he regarded me with surprise, contempt and pity, all + together: “was ever such a dunderhead! If ever man were fit to die, I am + he—and that's just my reasonable complaint. Heart alive! 'tis unfit + to <i>live</i> I am, tied to this absurd body!” + </p> + <p> + I suppose my attitude express'd my lack of comprehension, for he lifted a + finger and went on— + </p> + <p> + “Tell me—can you eat beef, and drink beer, and enjoy them?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And fight—hey? and kiss a pretty girl, and be glad you've done it? + Dear, dear, how I do hate a fool and a fool's pity! Lift me up and carry + me a step. This night's work has kill'd me: I feel it in my lungs. 'Tis a + pity, too; for I was just beginning to enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + I lifted him as I would a babe, and off we set again, my teeth shutting + tight on the pain of my hurt. And presently, coming to a little dingle, + about half a mile down the hillside, well hid with dead bracken and + blackberry bushes, I consulted with the girl. The place was well shelter'd + from the wind that rock'd the treetops, and I fear'd to go much further, + for we might come on open country at any moment and so double our peril. + It seem'd best, therefore, to lay the old gentleman snugly in the bottom + of this dingle and wait for day. And with my buff-coat, and a heap of + dried leaves, I made him fairly easy, reserving my cloak to wrap about + Mistress Delia's fair neck and shoulders. But against this at first she + protested. + </p> + <p> + “For how are you to manage?” she ask'd. + </p> + <p> + “I shall tramp up and down, and keep watch,” answer'd I, strewing a couch + for her beside her father: “and 'tis but fair exchange for the kerchief + you gave me from your own throat.” + </p> + <p> + At last I persuaded her, and she crept close to her father, and under the + edge of the buff-coat for warmth. There was abundance of dry bracken in + the dingle, and with this and some handfuls of pine needles, I cover'd + them over, and left them to find what sleep they might. + </p> + <p> + For two hours and more after this, I hobbled to and fro near them, as well + as my wound would allow, looking up at the sky through the pine tops, and + listening to the sobbing of the wind. Now and then I would swing my arms + for warmth, and breathe on my fingers, that were sorely benumb'd; and all + the while kept my ears on the alert, but heard nothing. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas, as I said, something over two hours after, that I felt a soft cold + touch, and then another, like kisses on my forehead. I put up my hand, and + looked up again at the sky. As I did so, the girl gave a long sigh, and + awoke from her doze—- + </p> + <p> + “Sure, I must have dropp'd asleep,” she said, opening her eyes, and spying + my shadow above her: “has aught happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” replied I, “something is happening that will wipe out our traces + and my bloody track.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Snow: see, 'tis falling fast.” + </p> + <p> + She bent over, and listen'd to her father's breathing. + </p> + <p> + “'Twill kill him,” she said simply. + </p> + <p> + I pull'd some more fronds of the bracken to cover them both. She thank'd + me, and offer'd to relieve me in my watch: which I refus'd. And indeed, by + lying down I should have caught my death, very likely. + </p> + <p> + The big flakes drifted down between the pines: till, as the moon paled, + the ground about me was carpeted all in white, with the foliage black as + ink above it. Time after time, as I tramp'd to and fro, I paus'd to brush + the fresh-forming heap from the sleepers' coverlet, and shake it gently + from the tresses of the girl's hair. The old man's face was covered + completely by the buff-coat: but his breathing was calm and regular as any + child's. + </p> + <p> + Day dawn'd. Awaking Mistress Delia, I ask'd her to keep watch for a time, + while I went off to explore. She crept out from her bed with a little + shiver of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “Run about,” I advis'd, “and keep the blood stirring.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded: and looking back, as I strode down the hill, I saw her moving + about quickly, swinging her arms, and only pausing to wave a hand to me + for goodspeed. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 'Twas an hour before I return'd: and plenty I had to tell. Only at the + entrance to the dingle the words failed from off my tongue. The old + gentleman lay as he had lain throughout the night. But the bracken had + been toss'd aside, and the girl was kneeling over him. I drew near, my + step not arousing her. Sir Deakin's face was pale and calm: but on the + snow that had gather'd by his head, lay a red streak of blood. 'Twas from + his lungs, and he was quite dead. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. — I FIND A COMRADE. + </h2> + <h3> + But I must go back a little and tell you what befell in my expedition. + </h3> + <p> + I had scarce trudged out of sight of my friends, down the hill, when it + struck me that my footprints in the snow were in the last degree dangerous + to them, and might lead Settle and his crew straight to the dingle. Here + was a fix. I stood for some minutes nonpluss'd, when above the stillness + of the wood (for the wind had dropp'd) a faint sound as of running water + caught my ear, and help'd me to an idea. + </p> + <p> + The sound seem'd to come from my left. Turning aside I made across the + hill toward it, and after two hundred paces or so came on a tiny brook, + not two feet across, that gush'd down the slope with a quite considerable + chatter and impatience. The bed of it was mainly earth, with here and + there a large stone or root to catch the toe: so that, as I stepped into + the water and began to thread my way down between the banks of snow, 'twas + necessary to look carefully to my steps. + </p> + <p> + Here and there the brook fetch'd a leap down a sharper declivity, or shot + over a hanging stone: but, save for the wetting I took in these places, my + progress was easy enough. I must have waded in this manner for half a + mile, keeping the least possible noise, when at an angle ahead I spied a + clearing among the pines, and to the right of the stream, on the very + verge, a hut of logs standing, with a wood rick behind it. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a low building, but somewhat long, and I guess'd it to be, in summer + time, a habitation for the woodcutters. But what surpris'd me was to hear + a dull, moaning noise, very regular and disquieting, that sounded from the + interior of the hut. I listen'd, and hit on the explication. 'Twas the + sound of snoring. + </p> + <p> + Drawing nearer with caution, I noticed, in that end of the hut which stood + over the stream, a gap, or window hole. The sound issued through this like + the whirring of a dozen looms. “He must be an astonishing fellow,” thought + I, “that can snore in this fashion. I'll have a peep before I wake him.” I + waded down till I stood under the sill, put both hands upon it, and + pulling myself up quiet as a mouse, stuck my face in at the window—and + then very nearly sat back into the brook for fright. + </p> + <p> + For I had gazed straight down into the upturn'd faces of Captain Settle + and his gang. + </p> + <p> + How long I stood there, with the water rushing past my ankles and my body + turning from cold to hot, and back again, I cannot tell you. But 'twas + until, hearing no pause in the sleepers' chorus, I found courage for + another peep: and that must have been some time. + </p> + <p> + There were but six rascals beside the Captain (so that Jacques must have + died hard, thought I), and such a raffle of arms and legs and swollen + up-turn'd faces as they made I defy you to picture. For they were pack'd + close as herrings; and the hut was fill'd up with their horses, ready + saddled, and rubbing shoulder to loin, so narrow was the room. It needed + the open window to give them air: and even so, 'twas not over-fresh + inside. + </p> + <p> + I had no mind to stay: but before leaving found myself in the way of + playing these villains a pretty trick. To right and left of the window, + above their heads, extended two rude shelves that now were heap'd with + what I conjectured to be the spoils of the larder of the “Three Cups.” + Holding my breath and thrusting my head and shoulders into the room, I ran + my hand along and was quickly possess'd of a boil'd ham, two capons, a + loaf, the half of a cold pie, and a basket holding three dozen eggs. All + these prizes I filched one by one, with infinite caution. + </p> + <p> + I was gently pulling the basket through the window hole, when I heard one + of the crew yawn and stretch himself in his sleep. So, determining to risk + no more, I quietly pack'd the basket, slung it on my right arm, and with + the ham grasp'd by the knuckle in my left, made my way up the stream. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas thus laden that I enter'd the dingle, and came on the sad sight + therein. I set down the ham as a thing to be asham'd of, and bar'd my + head. The girl lifted her face, and turning, all white and tragical, saw + me. + </p> + <p> + “My father is dead, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I stoop'd and pil'd a heap of fresh snow over the blood stains. There was + no intent in this but to hide the pity that chok'd me. She had still to + hear about her brother, Anthony. Turning, as by a sudden thought, I took + her hand. She look'd into my eyes, and her own filled with tears. 'Twas + the human touch that loosen'd their flow, I think: and sinking down again + beside her father, she wept her fill. + </p> + <p> + “Mistress Killigrew,” I said, as soon as the first violence of her tears + was abated, “I have still some news that is ill hearing. Your enemies are + encamp'd in the woods, about a half mile below this”—and with that I + told my story. + </p> + <p> + “They have done their worst, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with a question on her lip. + </p> + <p> + Said I, “you must believe me yet a short while without questioning.” + </p> + <p> + Considering for a moment, she nodded. “You have a right, sir, to be + trusted, tho' I know not so much as your name. Then we must stay close in + hiding?” she added very sensibly, tho' with the last word her voice + trail'd off, and she began again to weep. + </p> + <p> + But in time, having cover'd the dead baronet's body with sprays of the + wither'd bracken, I drew her to a little distance and prevail'd on her to + nibble a crust of the loaf. Now, all this while, it must be remembered, I + was in my shirt sleeves, and the weather bitter cold. Which at length her + sorrow allow'd her to notice. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are shivering, sore!” she said, and running, drew my buff-coat + from her father's body, and held it out to me. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” I answer'd, “I was thinking of another expedition to warm my + blood.” And promising to be back in half an hour, I follow'd down my + former tracks toward the stream. + </p> + <p> + Within twenty minutes I was back, running and well-nigh shouting with joy. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” I cried to her, “come and see for yourself!” + </p> + <p> + What had happen'd was this:—Wading cautiously down the brook, I had + cause suddenly to prick up my ears and come to a halt. 'Twas the muffled + tramp of hoofs that I heard, and creeping a bit further, I caught a + glimpse, beyond the hut, of a horse and rider disappearing down the woods. + He was the last of the party, as I guess'd from the sound of voices and + jingling of bits further down the slope. Advancing on the hut with more + boldness, I found it deserted. I scrambled up on the bank and round to the + entrance. The snow before it was trampled and sullied by the footmarks of + men and horses: and as I noted this, came Settle's voice calling up the + slope—— + </p> + <p> + “Jerry—Jerry Toy!” + </p> + <p> + A nearer voice hail'd in answer. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Reuben?” + </p> + <p> + “Coming, Captain—close behind!” + </p> + <p> + “Curse him for a loitering idiot! We've wasted time enough, as 'tis,” + called back the Captain. “How in thunder is a man to find the road out of + this cursed wood?” + </p> + <p> + “Straight on, Cap'n—you can't miss it,” shouted another voice, not + two gunshots below. + </p> + <p> + A volcano of oaths pour'd up from Settle. I did not wait for the end of + them: but ran back for Mistress Delia. + </p> + <p> + Together we descended to the hut. By this time the voices had faded away + in distance. Yet to make sure that the rascals had really departed, we + follow'd their tracks for some way, beside the stream; and suddenly came + to a halt with cries of joyful surprise. + </p> + <p> + The brook had led us to a point where, over a stony fall veil'd with brown + bracken, it plunged into a narrow ravine. Standing on the lip, where the + water took a smoother glide before leaping, we saw the line of the ravine + mark'd by a rift in the pines, and through this a slice of the country + that lay below. 'Twas a level plain, well watered, and dotted here and + there with houses. A range of wooded hills clos'd the view, and toward + them a broad road wound gently, till the eye lost it at their base. All + this was plain enough, in spite of the snow that cover'd the landscape. + For the sun had burst out above, and the few flakes that still fell looked + black against his brilliance and the dazzling country below. + </p> + <p> + But what caus'd our joy was to see, along the road, a small cavalcade + moving away from us, with many bright glances of light and color, as their + steel caps and sashes took the sunshine—a pretty sight, and the + prettier because it meant our present deliverance. + </p> + <p> + The girl beside me gave a cry of delight, then sigh'd; and after a minute + began to walk back toward the hut: where I left her, and ran up hill for + the basket and ham. On my return, I found her examining a heap of rusty + tools that, it seem'd, she had found on a shelf of the building. 'Twas no + light help to the good fellowship that afterward united us, that from the + first I could read her thoughts often without words; and for this reason, + that her eyes were as candid as the noonday. + </p> + <p> + So now I answer'd her aloud—- + </p> + <p> + “This afternoon we may venture down to the plain, where no doubt we shall + find a clergyman to sell us a patch of holy ground—” + </p> + <p> + “Holy ground?” She look'd at me awhile and shook her head. “I am not of + your religion,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “And your father?” + </p> + <p> + “I think no man ever discovered my father's religion. Perhaps there was + none to discover: but he was no bad father” she steadied her voice and + went on:—“He would prefer the hillside to your 'holy ground.'” + </p> + <p> + So, an hour later, I delv'd his grave in the frosty earth, close by the + spot where he lay. Somehow, I shiver'd all the while, and had a cruel + shooting pain in my wound that was like to have mastered me before the + task was ended. But I managed to lower the body softly into the hole and + to cover it reverently from sight: and afterward stood leaning on my spade + and feeling very light in the head, while the girl knelt and pray'd for + her father's soul. + </p> + <p> + And the picture of her as she knelt is the last I remember, till I open'd + my eyes, and was amazed to find myself on my back, and staring up at + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “What has happen'd?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are very ill,” said a voice: “can you lean on me, and reach + the hut?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes: that is, I think so. Why is everything dark?” + </p> + <p> + “The sun has been down for hours. You have been in a swoon first, and then + talk'd—oh, such nonsense! Shame on me, to let you catch this chill!” + </p> + <p> + She help'd me to my feet and steadied me: and how we reached the hut I + cannot tell you. It took more than one weary hour, as I now know; but, at + the time, hours and minutes were one to me. + </p> + <p> + In that hut I lay four nights and four days, between ague fit and fever. + And that is all the account I can give of the time, save that, on the + second day, the girl left me alone in the hut and descended to the plain, + where, after asking at many cottages for a physician, she was forced to be + content with an old woman reputed to be amazingly well skill'd in herbs + and medicines; whom, after a day's trial, she turn'd out of doors. On the + fourth day, fearing for my life, she made another descent, and coming to a + wayside tavern, purchased a pint of aqua vitae, carried it back, and mix'd + a potion that threw me into a profuse sweat. The same evening I sat up, a + sound man. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, so thoroughly was I recover'd that, waking early next morning, and + finding my sweet nurse asleep from sheer weariness, in a corner of the + hut, I stagger'd up from my bed of dried bracken, and out into the pure + air. Rare it was to stand and drink it in like wine. A footstep arous'd + me. 'Twas Mistress Delia: and turning, I held out my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Now this is famous,” said she: “a day or two will see you as good a man + as ever.” + </p> + <p> + “A day or two? To-morrow at latest, I shall make trial to start.” I noted + a sudden change on her face, and added: “Indeed, you must hear my reasons + before setting me down for an ingrate;” and told her of the King's letter + that I carried. “I hoped that for a while our ways might lie together,” + said I; and broke off, for she was looking me earnestly in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, as you know, my brother Anthony was to have met me—nay, for + pity's sake, turn not your face away! I have guess'd—the sword you + carry—I mark'd it. Sir, be merciful, and tell me!” + </p> + <p> + I led her a little aside to the foot of a tall pine; and there, tho' it + rung my heart, told her all; and left her to wrestle with this final + sorrow. She was so tender a thing to be stricken thus, that I who had + dealt the blow crept back to the hut, covering my eyes. In an hour's time + I look'd out. She was gone. + </p> + <p> + At nightfall she return'd, white with grief and fatigue; yet I was glad to + see her eyes red and swol'n with weeping. Throughout our supper she kept + silence; but when 'twas over, look'd up and spoke in a steady tone—— + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I have a favor to ask, and must risk being held importunate—” + </p> + <p> + “From you to me,” I put in, “all talk of favors had best be dropp'd.” + </p> + <p> + “No—listen. If ever it befel you to lose father or mother or dearly + loved friend, you will know how the anguish stuns—Oh sir! to-day the + sun seem'd fallen out of heaven, and I a blind creature left groping in + the void. Indeed, sir, 'tis no wonder: I had a father, brother, and + servant ready to die for me—three hearts to love and lean on: and + to-day they are gone.” + </p> + <p> + I would have spoken, but she held up a hand. + </p> + <p> + “Now when you spoke of Anthony—a dear lad!—I lay for some time + dazed with grief. By little and little, as the truth grew plainer, the + pain grew also past bearing. I stood up and stagger'd into the woods to + escape it. I went fast and straight, heeding nothing, for at first my + senses were all confus'd: but in a while the walking clear'd my wits, and + I could think: and thinking, I could weep: and having wept, could fortify + my heart. Here is the upshot, sir—tho' 'tis held immodest for a maid + to ask even far less of a man. We are both bound for Cornwall—you on + an honorable mission, I for my father's estate of Gleys, wherefrom (as + your tale proves) some unseen hands are thrusting me. Alike we carry our + lives in our hands. You must go forward: I may not go back. For from a + King who cannot right his own affairs there is little hope; and in + Cornwall I have surer friends than he. Therefore take me, sir—take + me for a comrade! Am I sad? Do you fear a weary journey? I will smile—laugh—sing—put + sorrow behind me. I will contrive a thousand ways to cheat the milestones. + At the first hint of tears, discard me, and go your way with no prick of + conscience. Only try me—oh, the shame of speaking thus!” + </p> + <p> + Her voice had grown more rapid toward the close: and now, breaking off, + she put both hands to cover her face, that was hot with blushes. I went + over and took them in mine: + </p> + <p> + “You have made me the blithest man alive,” said I. — She drew back a + pace with a frighten'd look, and would have pull'd her hands away. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” I went on quickly, “you have paid me this high compliment, to + trust me. Proud was I to listen to you; and merrily will the miles pass + with you for comrade. And so I say—Mistress Killigrew, take me for + your servant.” + </p> + <p> + To my extreme discomposure, as I dropp'd her hands, her eyes were + twinkling with laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Dear now; I see a dull prospect ahead if we use these long titles!” + </p> + <p> + “But—-” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir, please yourself. Only as I intend to call you 'Jack' perhaps + 'Delia' will be more of a piece than 'Mistress Killigrew.'” She dropp'd me + a mock curtsey. “And now, Jack, be a good boy, and hitch me this quilt + across the hut. I bought it yesterday at a cottage below here——” + </p> + <p> + She ended the sentence with the prettiest blush imaginable; and so, having + fix'd her screen, we shook hands on our comradeship, and wish'd each other + good night. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. — I LOSE THE KING'S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL. + </h2> + <p> + Almost before daylight we were afoot, and the first ray of cold sunshine + found us stepping from the woods into the plain, where now the snow was + vanished and a glistening coat of rime spread over all things. Down here + the pines gave way to bare elms and poplars, thickly dotted, and among + them the twisting smoke of farmstead and cottage, here and there, and the + morning stir of kitchen and stable very musical in the crisp air. + </p> + <p> + Delia stepped along beside me, humming an air or breaking off to chatter. + Meeting us, you would have said we had never a care. The road went + stretching away to the northwest and the hills against the sky there; + whither beyond, we neither knew nor (being both young, and one, by this + time, pretty deep in love) did greatly care. Yet meeting with a waggoner + and his team, we drew up to enquire. + </p> + <p> + The waggoner had a shock of whitish hair and a face purple-red above, by + reason of the cold, and purple-black below, for lack of a barber. He + purs'd up his mouth and look'd us slowly up and down. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said I, “you are not deaf, I hope, nor dumb.” + </p> + <p> + “Send I may niver!” the fellow ejaculated, slowly and with contemplation: + “'tis an unseemly sight, yet tickling to the mirthfully minded. Haw—haw!” + He check'd his laughter suddenly and stood like a stone image beside his + horses. + </p> + <p> + “Good sir,” said Delia, laying a hand on my arm (for I was growing + nettled), “your mirth is a riddle: but tell us our way and you are free to + laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Scarlet—Scarlet!” answer'd he: “and to me, that am a man o' + blushes from my cradle!” + </p> + <p> + Convinced by this that the fellow must be an idiot, I told him so, and + left him staring after us; nor heard the sound of his horses moving on + again for many minutes. + </p> + <p> + After this we met about a dozen on the road, and all paus'd to stare. But + from one—an old woman—we learn'd we were walking toward + Marlboro', and about noon were over the hills and looking into the valley + beyond. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas very like the other vale; only a pleasant stream wound along the + bottom, by the banks of which the road took us. Here, by a bridge, we came + to an inn bearing the sign of “The Broad Face,” and entered: for Captain + Settle's stock of victuals was now done. A sour-fac'd woman met us at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Do you stay here,” Delia advis'd me, “and drink a mug of beer while I + bargain with the hostess for fresh food.” She follow'd the sour-fac'd + woman into the house. + </p> + <p> + But out she comes presently with her cheeks flaming and a pair of bright + eyes. “Come!” she commanded, “come at once!” Setting down my half emptied + mug, I went after her across the bridge and up the road, wondering. In + this way we must have walk'd for a mile or more before she turn'd and + stamp'd her little foot— + </p> + <p> + “Horrible!” she cried. “Horrible—wicked—shameful! Ugh!” There + were tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What is shameful?” + </p> + <p> + She made no reply, but walk'd on again quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I am getting hungry, for my part,” sigh'd I, after a little. + </p> + <p> + “Then you must starve!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + She wheel'd round again. + </p> + <p> + “Jack, this will never do. If you are to have a comrade, let it be a boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, I am very passably content as things are.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense: at Marlboro', I mean, you must buy me a suit of boy's clothes. + What are you hearkening to?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I heard the noise of guns—or is it thunder?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Jack, don't say 'tis thunder! I do mortally fear thunder—and + mice.” + </p> + <p> + “'Twouldn't be thunder at this time of year. No, 'tis guns firing.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?—not that I mind guns.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahead of us.” + </p> + <p> + On the far side of the valley we enter'd a wood, thinking by this to + shorten our way: for the road here took a long bend to eastward. Now, at + first this wood seem'd of no considerable size, but thicken'd and spread + as we advanced. 'Twas only, however, after passing the ridge, and when + daylight began to fail us, that I became alarm'd. For the wood grew + denser, with a tangle of paths criss-crossing amid the undergrowth. And + just then came the low mutter of cannon again, shaking the earth. We began + to run forward, tripping in the gloom over brambles, and stumbling into + holes. + </p> + <p> + For a mile or so this lasted: and then, without warning, I heard a sound + behind me, and look'd back, to find Delia sunk upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Jack, here's a to-do!” + </p> + <p> + “What's amiss?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I am going to swoon!” + </p> + <p> + The words were scarce out, when there sounded a crackling and snapping of + twigs ahead, and two figures came rushing toward us—a man and a + woman. The man carried an infant in his arms: and tho' I call'd on them to + stop, the pair ran by us with no more notice than if we had been stones. + Only the woman cried, “Dear Lord, save us!” and wrung her hands as she + pass'd out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “This is strange conduct,” thought I: but peering down, saw that Delia's + face was white and motionless. She had swoon'd, indeed, from weariness and + hunger. So I took her in my arms and stumbled forward, hoping to find the + end of the wood soon. For now the rattle of artillery came louder and + incessant through the trees, and mingling with it, a multitude of dull + shouts and outcries. At first I was minded to run after the man and woman, + but on second thought, resolv'd to see the danger before hiding from it. + </p> + <p> + The trees, in a short while, grew sparser, and between the stems I mark'd + a ruddy light glowing. And then I came out on an open space upon the + hillside, with a dip of earth in front; and beyond, a long ridge of pines + standing up black, because of a red glare behind them; and saw that this + came not from any setting sun, but was the light of a conflagration. + </p> + <p> + The glare danced and quiver'd in the sky, as I cross'd the hollow. It made + even Delia's white cheek seem rosy. Up amid the pines I clamor'd, and + along the ridge to where it broke off in a steep declivity. And lo! in a + minute I look'd down as 'twere into the infernal pit. + </p> + <p> + There was a whole town burning below. And in the streets men were + fighting, as could be told by their shouts and the rattle and blaze of + musketry. For a garment of smoke lay over all and hid them: only the + turmoil beat up as from a furnace, and the flames of burning thatches, and + quick jets of firearms like lightning in a thundercloud. Great sparks + floated past us, and over the trees at our back. A hot blast breath'd on + our cheeks. Now and then you might hear a human shriek distinct amid the + din, and this spoke terribly to the heart. + </p> + <p> + Now the town was Marlboro', and the attacking force a body of royal troops + sent from Oxford to oust the garrison of the Parliament, which they did + this same night, with great slaughter, driving the rebels out of the + place, and back on the road to Bristol. Had we guess'd this, much ill luck + had been spared us; but we knew nought of it, nor whether friends or foes + were getting the better. So (Delia being by this time recover'd a little) + we determined to pass the night in the woods, and on the morrow to give + the place a wide berth. + </p> + <p> + Retreating, then, to the hollow (that lay on the lee side of the ridge, + away from the north wind), I gather'd a pile of great stones, and spread + my cloak thereover for Delia. To sleep was impossible, even with the will + for it. For the tumult and fighting went on, and only died out about an + hour before dawn: and once or twice we were troubled to hear the sound of + people running on the ridge above. So we sat and talked in low voices till + dawn; and grew more desperately hunger'd than ever. + </p> + <p> + With the chill of daybreak we started, meaning to get quit of the + neighborhood before any espied us; and fetch'd a compass to the south + without another look at Marlboro'. At the end of two hours, turning + northwest again, we came to some water meadows beside a tiny river (the + Kennet, as I think), and saw, some way beyond, a high road that cross'd to + our side (only the bridge was now broken down), and further yet, a thick + smoke curling up; but whence this came I could not see. Now we had been + avoiding all roads this morning, and hiding at every sound of footsteps. + But hunger was making us bold. I bade Delia crouch down by the stream's + bank, where many alders grew, and set off toward this column of smoke. + </p> + <p> + By the spot where the road cross'd I noted that many men and horses had + lately pass'd hereby to westward, and, by their footmarks, at a great + speed. A little further, and I came on a broken musket flung against the + hedge, with a nauseous mess of blood and sandy hairs about the stock of + it; and just beyond was a dead horse, his legs sticking up like bent poles + across the road. 'Twas here that my blood went cold on a sudden, to hear a + dismal groaning not far ahead. I stood still, holding my breath, and then + ran forward again. + </p> + <p> + The road took a twist that led me face to face with a small whitewashed + cottage, smear'd with black stains of burning. For seemingly it had been + fir'd in one or two places, only the flames had died out: and from the + back, where some out-building yet smoulder'd, rose the smoke that I spied. + But what brought me to a stand was to see the doorway all crack'd and + charr'd, and across it a soldier stretch'd—a green-coated rebel—and + quite dead. His face lay among the burn'd ruins of the door, that had + wofully singed his beard and hair. A stain of blood ran across the door + stone and into the road. + </p> + <p> + I was gazing upon him and shuddering, when again I heard the groans. They + issued from the upper chamber of the cottage. I stepped over the dead + soldier and mounted the ladder that led upstairs. + </p> + <p> + The upper room was but a loft. In it were two beds, whereof one was empty. + On the edge of the other sat up a boy of sixteen or thereabouts, stark + naked and moaning miserably. With one hand he seem'd trying to cover a big + wound that gaped in his chest: the other, as my head rose over the ladder, + he stretch'd out with all the fingers spread. And this was his last + effort. As I stumbled up, his fingers clos'd in a spasm of pain; his hands + dropp'd, and the body tumbled back on the bed, where it lay with the legs + dangling. + </p> + <p> + The poor lad must have been stabb'd as he lay asleep. For by the bedside I + found his clothes neatly folded and without a speck of blood. They were + clean, though coarse; so thinking they would serve for Delia, I took them, + albeit with some scruples at robbing the dead, and covering the body with + a sheet, made my way downstairs. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: “Oh, Jack—they do not fit at all!”—Page 121.} + </p> + <p> + Here, on a high shelf at the foot of the ladder, I discover'd a couple of + loaves and some milk, and also, lying hard by, a pair of shepherd's + shears, which I took also, having a purpose for them. By this time, being + sick enough of the place, I was glad to make all speed back to Delia. + </p> + <p> + She was still waiting among the leafless alders, and clapp'd her hands to + see the two loaves under my arm. + </p> + <p> + Said I, flinging down the clothes, and munching at my share of the bread—- + </p> + <p> + “Here is the boy's suit that you wish'd for.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! 'tis not a very choice one.” Her face fell. + </p> + <p> + “All the better for escaping notice.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but I <i>like</i> to be notic'd!” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when breakfast was done, she consented to try on the + clothes. I left her eyeing them doubtfully, and stroll'd away by the + river's bank. In a while her voice call'd to me—- + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack—they do not fit at all!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, 'tis admirable!” said I, returning, and scanning her. Now this was a + lie: but she took me more than ever, so pretty and comical she look'd in + the dress. + </p> + <p> + “And I cannot walk a bit in them!” she pouted, strutting up and down. + </p> + <p> + “Swing your arms more, and let them hang looser.” + </p> + <p> + “And my hair. Oh, Jack, I have such beautiful hair!” + </p> + <p> + “It must come off,” said I, pulling the shears out of my pocket. + </p> + <p> + “And look at these huge boots!” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, this was the main trouble, for I knew they would hurt her in + walking: yet she made more fuss about her hair, and only gave in when I + scolded her roundly. So I took the shears and clipp'd the chestnut curls, + one by one, while she cried for vexation; and took occasion of her tears + to smuggle the longest lock inside my doublet. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + But, an hour after, she was laughing again, and had learned to cock the + poor country lad's cap rakishly over one eye: and by evening was walking + with a swagger and longing (I know) to meet with folks. For, to spare her + the sight of the ruin'd cottage, I had taken her round through the fields, + and by every bypath that seem'd to lead westward. 'Twas safer to journey + thus; and all the way she practic'd a man's carriage and airs, and how to + wink and whistle and swing a stick. And once, when she left one of her + shoes in a wet ditch, she said “d—n!” as natural as life: and then— + </p> + <p> + We jump'd over a hedge, plump into an outpost of rebels, as they sat + munching their supper. + </p> + <p> + They were six in all, and must have been sitting like mice: for all I know + of it is this. I had climb'd the hedge first, and was helping Delia over, + when out of the ground, as it seem'd, a voice shriek'd, “Run—run!—the + King's men are on us!” and then, my foot slipping, down I went on to the + shoulders of a thick-set man, and well-nigh broke his neck as he turn'd to + look up at me. + </p> + <p> + At first, the whole six were for running, I believe. But seeing only a lad + stretch'd on his face, and a second on the hedge, they thought better of + it. Before I could scramble up, one pair of hands was screw'd about my + neck, another at my heels, and in a trice there we were pinion'd. + </p> + <p> + “Fetch the lantern, Zacchaeus.” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas quickly lit, and thrust into my face; and very foolish I must have + look'd. The fellows were all clad in green coats, much soil'd with mud and + powder. And they grinn'd in my face till I long'd to kick them. + </p> + <p> + “Search the malignant!” cried one. “Question him,” call'd out another; and + forthwith began a long interrogatory concerning the movements of his + Majesty's troops, from which, indeed, I learn'd much concerning the late + encounter: but of course could answer nought. 'Twas only natural they + should interpret this silence for obstinacy. + </p> + <p> + “March 'em off to Captain Stubbs!” + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” shouted a pockmarked trooper, that had his hand thrust in on my + breast: “bring the lantern close here. What's this?” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas, alas! the King's letter: and I bit my lip while they cluster'd + round, turning the lantern's yellow glare upon the superscription. + </p> + <p> + “Lads, there's promotion in this!” shouted the thick-set man I had tumbled + on (who, it seem'd, was the sergeant in the troop): “hand me the letter, + there! Zacchaeus Martin and Tom Pine—you two bide here on duty: + t'other three fall in about the prisoners—quick march!' The wicked + have digged a pit—'” + </p> + <p> + The rogue ended up with a tag from the Psalmist. + </p> + <p> + We were march'd down the road for a mile or more, till we heard a loud + bawling, as of a man in much bodily pain, and soon came to a small + village, where, under a tavern lamp, by the door, was a man perch'd up on + a tub, and shouting forth portions of the Scripture to some twenty or more + green-coats assembled round. Our conductor pushed past these, and enter'd + the tavern. At a door to the left in the passage he halted, and knocking + once, thrust us inside. + </p> + <p> + The room was bare and lit very dimly by two tallow candles, set in + bottles. Between these, on a deal table, lay a map outspread, and over it + a man was bending, who look'd up sharply at our entrance. + </p> + <p> + He was thin, with a blue nose, and wore a green uniform like the rest: + only his carriage proved him a man of authority. + </p> + <p> + This Captain Stubbs listened, you may be sure, with a bright'ning eye to + the sergeant's story; and at the close fix'd an inquisitive gaze on the + pair of us, turning the King's letter over and over in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “How came this in your possession?” he ask'd at length. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said I, “I must decline to tell.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated a moment; then, re-seating himself, broke the seal, spread + the letter upon the map, and read it slowly through. For the first time I + began heartily to hope that the paper contain'd nothing of moment. But the + man's face was no index of this. He read it through twice, folded it away + in his breast, and turn'd to the sergeant— + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow at six in the morning we continue our march. Meanwhile keep + these fellows secure. I look to you for this.” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant saluted and we were led out. That night we pass'd in + handcuffs, huddled with fifty soldiers in a hayloft of the inn and + hearkening to their curious talk, that was half composed of Holy Writ and + half of gibes at our expense. They were beaten men and, like all such, + found comfort in deriding the greater misfortunes of others. + </p> + <p> + Before daylight the bugles began to sound, and we were led down to the + green before the tavern door, where already were close upon five hundred + gather'd, that had been billeted about the village and were now forming in + order of march—a soil'd, batter'd crew, with torn ensigns and little + heart in their movements. The sky began a cold drizzle as we set out, and + through this saddening whether we trudged all day, Delia and I being kept + well apart, she with the vanguard and I in the rear, seeing only the + winding column, the dejected heads bobbing in front as they bent to the + slanting rain, the cottagers that came out to stare as we pass'd; and + hearing but the hoarse words of command, the low mutterings of the men, + and always the monotonous <i>tramp-tramp</i> through the slush and mire of + the roads. + </p> + <p> + 'Tis like a bad dream to me, and I will not dwell on it. That night we + pass'd at Chippenham—a small market town—and on the morrow + went tramping again through worse weather, but always amid the same sights + and sounds. There were moments when I thought to go mad, wrenching at my + cords till my wrists bled, yet with no hope to escape. But in time, by + good luck, my wits grew deaden'd to it all, and I march'd on with the rest + to a kind of lugubrious singsong that my brain supplied. For hours I went + thus, counting my steps, missing my reckoning, and beginning again. + </p> + <p> + Daylight was failing when the towers of Bristol grew clear out of the + leaden mist in front; and by five o'clock we halted outside the walls and + beside the ditch of the castle, waiting for the drawbridge to be let down. + Already a great crowd had gather'd about us, of those who had come out to + learn news of the defeat, which, the day before some fugitives had carried + to Bristol. To their questions, as to all else, I listen'd like a man in a + trance: and recall this only—that first I was shivering out in the + rain and soon after was standing beside Delia, under guard of a dozen + soldiers, and shaking with cold, beneath a gateway that led between the + two wards of the castle. And there, for an hour at least, we kick'd our + heels, until from the inner ward Captain Stubbs came striding and + commanded us to follow. + </p> + <p> + Across the court we went in the rain, through a vaulted passage, and + passing a screen of carved oak found ourselves suddenly in a great hall, + near forty yards long (as I reckon it), and rafter'd with oak. At the far + end, around a great marble table, were some ten or more gentlemen seated, + who all with one accord turn'd their eyes upon us, as the captain brought + us forward. + </p> + <p> + The table before them was litter'd with maps, warrants, and papers; and + some of the gentlemen had pens in their hands. But the one on whom my eyes + fastened was a tall, fair soldier that sat in the centre, and held his + Majesty's letter, open, in his hand: who rose and bow'd to me as I came + near. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he said, “the fortune of war having given you into our hands, you + will not refuse, I hope, to answer our questions.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I have nought to tell,” answer'd I, bowing in return. + </p> + <p> + With a delicate white hand he wav'd my words aside. He had a handsome, + irresolute mouth, and was, I could tell, of very different degree from the + merchants and lawyers beside him. + </p> + <p> + “You act under orders from the—the—” + </p> + <p> + “Anti-Christ,” put in a snappish little fellow on his right. + </p> + <p> + “I do nothing of the sort,” said I. — “Well, then, sir, from King + Charles.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not.” + </p> + <p> + “Tush!” exclaim'd the snappish man, and then straightening himself up—“That + boy with you—that fellow disguis'd as a countryman—look at his + boots!—he's a Papist spy!” + </p> + <p> + “There, sir, you are wrong!” + </p> + <p> + “I saw him—I'll be sworn to his face—I saw him, a year back, + at Douai, helping at the mass! I never forget faces.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what nonsense!” cried I, and burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Don't mock at me, sir!” he thunder'd, bringing down his fist on the + table. “I tell you the boy is a Papist!” He pointed furiously at Delia, + who, now laughing also, answer'd him very demurely—- + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir—” + </p> + <p> + “I saw you, I say.” + </p> + <p> + “You are bold to make so certain of a Papist—” + </p> + <p> + “I saw you!” + </p> + <p> + “That cannot even tell maid from man!” + </p> + <p> + “What is meant by that?” asks the tall soldier, opening his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Why, simply this, sir: I am no boy at all, but a girl!” + </p> + <p> + There was a minute, during which the little man went purple in the face, + and the rest star'd at Delia in blank astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack,” she whisper'd in my ear, “I am so very, very sorrow: but I <i>cannot</i> + wear these hateful clothes much longer.” + </p> + <p> + She fac'd the company with a rosy blush. + </p> + <p> + “What say you to this?” ask'd Colonel Essex—for 'twas he—turning + round on the little man. + </p> + <p> + “Say? What do I say? That the fellow is a Papist, too. I knew it from the + first, and this proves it!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. — I BREAK OUT OF PRISON. + </h2> + <p> + You are now to be ask'd to pass over the next four weeks in as many + minutes: as would I had done at the time! For I spent them in a bitter + cold cell in the main tower of Bristol keep, with a chair and a pallet of + straw for all my furniture, and nothing to stay my fast but the bread and + water that the jailer—a sour man, if ever there were one—brought + me twice a day. + </p> + <p> + This keep lies in the northwest corner of the outer ward of the castle—a + mighty tall pile and strongly built, the walls (as the jailer told me) + being a full twenty-five feet thick near the foundations, tho' by time you + ascended to the towers this thickness had dwindled to six feet and no + more. In shape 'twas a quadrilateral, a little shorter from north to south + than from east to west (in which latter direction it measured sixty feet, + about), and had four towers standing at the four corners, whereof mine was + five fathoms higher than the rest. + </p> + <p> + Guess, then, how little I thought of escape, having but one window, a + hundred feet (I do believe) above the ground, and that so narrow that, + even without the iron bar across it, 'twould barely let my shoulders pass. + What concern'd me more was the cold that gnaw'd me continually these + winter nights, as I lay thinking of Delia (whom I had not seen since our + examination), or gazing out on the patch of frosty heaven that was all my + view. 'Twas thus I had heard Bristol bells ringing for Christmas in the + town below. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Essex had been thrice to visit me, and always offer'd many excuses + for my treatment; but when he came to question me, why of course I had + nothing to tell, so that each visit but served to vex him more. Clearly I + was suspected to know a great deal beyond what appear'd in the letter: and + no doubt poor Anthony Killigrew had receiv'd some verbal message from His + Majesty which he lived not long enough to transmit to me. As 'twas, I kept + silence; and the Colonel in return would tell me nothing of what had + befallen Delia. + </p> + <p> + One fine, frosty morning, then, when I had lain in this distress just four + weeks, the door of my cell open'd, and there appear'd a young woman, not + uncomely, bringing in my bread and water. She was the jailer's daughter, + and wore a heavy bunch of keys at her girdle. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good morning!” said I: for till now her father only had visited me, + and this was a welcome change. + </p> + <p> + Instead of answering cheerfully (as I look'd for), she gave a little nod + of the head, rather sorrowful, and answered:— + </p> + <p> + “Father's abed with the ague.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you cannot expect me to be sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” she said; and I caught her looking at me with something like + compassion in her blue eyes, which mov'd me to cry out suddenly—- + </p> + <p> + “I think you are woman enough to like a pair of lovers.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, aye: but where's t'other half of the pair?” + </p> + <p> + “You're right. The young gentlewoman that was brought hither with me—I + know not if she loves me: but this I do know—I would give my hand to + learn her whereabouts, and how she fares.” + </p> + <p> + “Better eat thy loaf,” put in the girl very suddenly, setting down the + plate and pitcher. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas odd, but I seem'd to hear a sob in her voice. However, her back was + toward me as I glanc'd up. And next moment she was gone, locking the iron + door behind her. + </p> + <p> + I turn'd from my breakfast with a sigh, having for the moment tasted the + hope to hear something of Delia. But in a while, feeling hungry, I pick'd + up the loaf beside me, and broke it in two. + </p> + <p> + To my amaze, out dropp'd something that jingled on the stone floor. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a small file: and examining the loaf again, I found a clasp-knife + also, and a strip of paper, neatly folded, hidden in the bread. + </p> + <p> + “Deare Jack, + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Essex, finding no good come of his interrogatories, hath set me + at large; tho' I continue under his eye, to wit, with a dowager of his + acquaintance, a Mistress Finch. Wee dwell in a private house midway down + St. Thomas his street, in Redcliffe: and she hath put a dismal dress upon + me (Jack, 'tis <i>hideous</i>), but otherwise uses me not ill. But take + care of thyself, my deare friend: for tho' the Colonel be a gentilman, he + is press'd by them about him, and at our last interview I noted a mischief + in his eye. Canst use this file?—(but take care: all the gates I saw + guarded with troopers to-day.) This by one who hath been my friend: for + whose sake tear the paper up. And beleeve your cordial, loving comrade + </p> + <h3> + “D. K.” + </h3> + <p> + After reading this a dozen times, till I had it by heart, I tore the + letter into small pieces and hid them in my pocket. This done, I felt + lighter-hearted than for many a day, and (rather for employment than with + any farther view) began lazily to rub away at my window bar. The file + work'd well. By noon the bar was half sever'd, and I broke off to whistle + a tune. 'Twas—- + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Vivre en tout cas, + C'est le grand soulas—” + </pre> + <p> + and I broke off to hear the key turning in my lock. + </p> + <p> + The jailer's daughter enter'd with my second meal. Her eyes were red with + weeping. + </p> + <p> + Said I, “Does your father beat you?” + </p> + <p> + “He has, before now,” she replied: “but not to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why do you weep?” + </p> + <p> + “Not for that.” + </p> + <p> + “For what then?” + </p> + <p> + “For you—oh, dear, dear! How shall I tell it? They are going to—to—-” + She sat down on the chair, and sobb'd in her apron. + </p> + <p> + “What is't they are going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “To—to—h-hang you.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil! When?” + </p> + <p> + “Tut-tut-to-morrow mo-horning!” + </p> + <p> + I went suddenly very cold all over. There was silence for a moment, and + then I heard the noise of some one dropping a plank in the courtyard + below. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “The gug-gug—-” + </p> + <p> + “Gallows?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You are but a weak girl,” said I, meditating. + </p> + <p> + “Aye: but there's a dozen troopers on the landing below.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, my dear, you must lock me up,” I decided gloomily, and fell to + whistling—— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Vivre en tout cas, + C'est le grand soulas—” + </pre> + <p> + A workman's hammer in the court below chim'd in, beating out the tune, and + driving the moral home. I heard a low sob behind me. The jailer's daughter + was going. + </p> + <p> + “Lend me your bodkin, my dear, for a memento.” + </p> + <p> + She pull'd it out and gave it to me. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, and now good-bye! Stop: here's a kiss to take to my dear + mistress. They shan't hang me, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + The girl went out, sobbing, and lock'd the door after her. + </p> + <p> + I sat down for a while, feeling doleful. For I found myself extremely + young to be hang'd. But soon the <i>whang—whang!</i> of the hammer + below rous'd me. “Come,” I thought, “I'll see what that rascal is doing, + at any rate,” and pulling the file from my pocket, began to attack the + window bar with a will. I had no need for silence, at this great height + above the ground: and besides, the hammering continued lustily. + </p> + <p> + Daylight was closing as I finish'd my task and, pulling the two pieces of + the bar aside, thrust my head out at the window. + </p> + <p> + Directly under me, and about twenty feet from the ground, I saw a beam + projecting, about six feet long, over a sort of doorway in the wall. Under + this beam, on a ladder, was a carpenter fellow at work, fortifying it with + two supporting timbers that rested on the sill of the doorway. He was + merry enough over the job, and paused every now and again to fling a + remark to a little group of soldiers that stood idling below, where the + fellow's workbag and a great coil of rope rested by the ladder's foot. + </p> + <p> + “Reckon, Sammy,” said one, pulling a long tobacco pipe from his mouth and + spitting, “'tis a long while since thy last job o' the sort.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, lad: terrible disrepair this place has fall'n into. But send us a + cheerful heart, say I! Instead o' the viper an' owl, shall henceforward be + hangings of men an' all manner o' diversion.” + </p> + <p> + I kept my head out of sight and listen'd. + </p> + <p> + “What time doth 'a swing?” ask'd another of the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + “I heard the Colonel give orders for nine o'clock to-morrow,” answer'd the + first soldier, spitting again. + </p> + <p> + The clock over the barbican struck four: and in a minute was being + answer'd from tower after tower, down in the city. + </p> + <p> + “Four o'clock!” cried the man on the ladder: “time to stop work, and here + goes for the last nail!” He drove it in and prepar'd to descend. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” shouted a soldier, “you've forgot the rope.” + </p> + <p> + “That'll wait till to-morrow. There's a staple to drive in, too. I tell + you I'm dry, and want my beer.” + </p> + <p> + He whipp'd his apron round his waist, and gathering up his nails, went + down the ladder. At the foot he pick'd up his bag, shoulder'd the ladder, + and loung'd away, leaving the coil of rope lying there. Presently the + soldiers saunter'd off also, and the court was empty. + </p> + <p> + Now up to this moment I had but one idea of avoiding my fate, and that was + to kill myself. 'Twas to this end I had borrow'd the bodkin of the maid. + Afterward I had a notion of flinging myself from the window as they came + for me. But now, as I look'd down on that coil of rope lying directly + below, a prettier scheme struck me. I sat down on the floor of my cell and + pull'd off my boots and stockings. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas such a pretty plan that I got into a fever of impatience. Drawing + off a stocking and picking out the end of the yarn, I began to unravel the + knitting for dear life, until the whole lay, a heap of thread, on the + floor. I then serv'd the other in the same way: and at the end had two + lines, each pretty near four hundred yards in length: which now I divided + into eight lines of about a hundred yards each. + </p> + <p> + With these I set to work, and by the end of twenty minutes had plaited a + rope—if rope, indeed, it could be called—weak to be sure, but + long enough to reach the ground with plenty to spare. Then, having bent my + bodkin to the form of a hook, I tied it to the end of my cord, weighted it + with a crown from my pocket, and clamber'd up to the window. I was going + to angle for the hangman's rope. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas near dark by this; but I could just distinguish it on the paving + stones below, and looking about the court, saw that no one was astir. I + wriggled first my head, then a shoulder, through the opening, and let the + line run gently through my hand. There was still many yards left, that + could be paid out, when I heard my coin tinkle softly on the pavement. + </p> + <p> + Then began my difficulty. A dozen times I pull'd my hook across the coil + before it hitch'd; and then a full three score of times the rope slipped + away before I had rais'd it a dozen yards. My elbow was raw, almost, with + leaning on the sill, and I began to lose heart and head, when, to my + delight, the bodkin caught and held. It had fasten'd on a kink in the + rope, not far from the end. I began to pull up, hand over hand, trembling + all the while like a leaf. + </p> + <p> + For I had two very reasonable fears. First, the rope might slip away and + tumble before it reach'd my grasp. Secondly, it might, after all, prove a + deal too short. It had look'd to me a new rope of many fathoms, not yet + cut for to-morrow's purpose; but eyesight might well deceive at that + distance, and surely enough I saw that the whole was dangling off the + ground long before it came to my hand. + </p> + <p> + But at last I caught it, and slipping back into the room, pull'd it after + me, yard upon yard. My heart went loud and fast. There was nothing to + fasten it to but an iron staple in the door, that meant losing the width + of my cell, some six feet. This, however, must be risk'd, and I made the + end fast, lower'd the other out of window again, and climbing to a sitting + posture on the window sill, thrust out my legs over the gulf. + </p> + <p> + Thankful was I that darkness had fallen before this, and hidden the giddy + depths below me. I gripp'd the rope and push'd myself inch by inch through + the window, and out over the ledge. For a moment I dangled, without + courage to move a hand. Then, wreathing my legs round the rope, I loosed + my left hand, and caught with it again some six inches lower. And so, down + I went. + </p> + <p> + Minute follow'd minute, and left me still descending, six inches at a + time, and looking neither above nor below, but always at the grey wall + that seem'd sliding up in front of me. The first dizziness was over, but a + horrible aching of the arms had taken the place of it. 'Twas growing + intolerable, when suddenly my legs, that sought to close round the rope, + found space only. I had come to the end. + </p> + <p> + I look'd down. A yard below my feet the beam of the gallows gleam'd palely + out of the darkness. Here was my chance. I let my hands slip down the last + foot or so of rope, hung for a moment, then dropp'd for the beam. + </p> + <p> + My feet miss'd it, as I intended they should; but I flung both arms out + and caught it, bringing myself up with a jerk. While yet I hung clawing, I + heard a footstep coming through the gateway between the two wards. + </p> + <p> + Here was a fix. With all speed and silence I drew myself up to the beam, + found a hold with one knee upon it, got astride, and lay down at length, + flattening my body down against the timber. Yet all the while I felt sure + I must have been heard. + </p> + <p> + The footsteps drew nearer, and pass'd almost under the gallows. 'Twas an + officer, for, as he pass'd, he called out—- + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant Downs! Sergeant Downs!” + </p> + <p> + A voice from the guardroom in the barbican answer'd him through the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Why is not the watch set?” + </p> + <p> + “In a minute, sir: it wants a minute to six.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought the Colonel order'd it at half past five?” + </p> + <p> + In the silence that follow'd, the barbican clock began to strike, and half + a dozen troopers tumbled out from the guardroom, some laughing, some + grumbling at the coldness of the night. The officer return'd to the inner + ward as they dispersed to their posts: and soon there was silence again, + save for the <i>tramp-tramp</i> of a sentry crossing and recrossing the + pavement below me. + </p> + <p> + All this while I lay flatten'd along the beam, scarce daring to breathe. + But at length, when the man had pass'd below for the sixth time, I found + heart to wriggle myself toward the doorway over which the gallows + protruded. By slow degrees, and pausing whenever the fellow drew near, I + crept close up to the wall: then, waiting the proper moment, cast my legs + over, dangled for a second or two swinging myself toward the sill, flung + myself off, and, touching the ledge with one toe, pitch'd forward in the + room. + </p> + <p> + The effect of this was to give me a sound crack as I struck the flooring, + which lay about a foot below the level of the sill. I pick'd myself up and + listen'd. Outside, the regular tramp of the sentry prov'd he had not heard + me; and I drew a long breath, for I knew that without a lantern he would + never spy, in the darkness, the telltale rope dangling from the tower. + </p> + <p> + In the room where I stood all was right. But the flooring was uneven to + the foot, and scatter'd with small pieces of masonry. 'Twas one of the + many chambers in the castle that had dropp'd into disrepair. Groping my + way with both hands, and barking my shins on the loose stones, I found a + low vaulted passage that led me into a second chamber, empty as the first. + To my delight, the door of this was ajar, with a glimmer of light slanting + through the crack. I made straight toward it, and pull'd the door softly. + It open'd, and show'd a lantern dimly burning, and the staircase of the + keep winding past me, up into darkness. + </p> + <p> + My chance was, of course, to descend: which I did on tiptoe, hearing no + sound. The stairs twisted down and down, and ended by a stout door with + another lamp shining above it. After listening a moment I decided to be + bold, and lifted the latch. A faint cry saluted me. + </p> + <p> + I stood face to face with the jailer's daughter. + </p> + <p> + The room was a small one, well lit, and lin'd about the walls with cups + and bottles. 'Twas, as I guess'd, a taproom for the soldiers: and the girl + had been scouring one of the pewter mugs when my entrance startled her. + She stood up, white as if painted, and gasp'd— + </p> + <p> + “Quick—quick! Down here behind the counter for your life!” + </p> + <p> + There was scarce time to drop on my knees before a couple of troopers + loung'd in, demanding mull'd beer. The girl bustled about to serve them, + while the pair lean'd their elbows on the counter, and in this easy + attitude began to chat. + </p> + <p> + “A shrewd night!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, a very freezing frost! Lucky that soldiering is not all sentry work, + or I for one 'ud ensue my natural trade o' plumbing. But let's be + cheerful: for the voice o' the turtle is heard i' the land.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” + </p> + <p> + The man took a pull at his hot beer before explaining. + </p> + <p> + “The turtle signifieth the Earl o' Stamford, that is to-night visiting + Colonel Essex in secret: an' this is the import—war, bloody war. + Mark me.” + </p> + <p> + “Stirring, striving times!” + </p> + <p> + “You may say so! 'A hath fifteen thousand men, the Earl, no farther off + than Taunton—why, my dear, how pale you look, to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis my head that aches,” answer'd the girl. + </p> + <p> + The men finish'd their drink, and saunter'd out. I crept from under the + counter, and look'd at her. + </p> + <p> + “Father'll kill me for this!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you shall say—Is it forward or back I must go?” + </p> + <p> + “Neither.” She pull'd up a trap close beside her feet, and pointed out a + ladder leading down to the darkness. “The courts are full of troopers,” + she added. + </p> + <p> + “The cellar?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! There's a door at the far end. It leads to the crypt of St. John's + Chapel. You'll find the key beside it, and a lantern. Here is flint and + steel.” She reach'd them down from a shelf beside her. “Crouch down, or + they'll spy you through the window. From the crypt a passage takes you to + the governor's house. How to escape then, God knows! 'Tis the best I can + think on.” + </p> + <p> + I thank'd her, and began to step down the ladder. She stood for a moment + to watch, leaving the trap open for better light. Between the avenue of + casks and bins I stumbled toward the door and lantern that were just to be + discern'd at the far end of the cellar. As I struck steel on flint, I + heard the trap close: and since then have never set eyes on that + kind-hearted girl. + </p> + <p> + The lantern lit, I took the key and fitted it to the lock. It turned + noisily, and a cold whiff of air struck my face. Gazing round this new + chamber, I saw two lines of squat pillars, supporting a low arch'd roof. + 'Twas the crypt beneath the chapel, and smelt vilely. A green moisture + trickled down the pillars, and dripp'd on the tombs beneath them. + </p> + <p> + At the end of this dreary place was a broken door, consisting only of a + plank or two, that I easily pull'd away: and beyond, a narrow passage, + over which I heard the tread of troopers plainly, as they pac'd to and + fro; also the muffled note of the clock, sounding seven. + </p> + <p> + The passage went fairly straight, but was block'd here and there with + fallen stones, over which I scrambled as best I could. And then, suddenly + I was near pitching down a short flight of steps. I held the lantern aloft + and look'd. + </p> + <p> + At the steps' foot widen'd out a low room, whereof the ceiling, like that + of the crypt, rested on pillars. Between these, every inch of space was + pil'd with barrels, chests, and great pyramids of round shot. In each + corner lay a heap of rusty pikes. Of all this the signification was clear. + I stood in the munition room of the Castle. + </p> + <p> + But what chiefly took my notice was a great door, studded with iron nails, + that barr'd all exit from the place. Over the barrels I crept toward it, + keeping the lantern high, in dread of firing any loose powder. 'Twas fast + lock'd. + </p> + <p> + I think that, for a moment or two, I could have wept. But in a while the + thought struck me that with the knife in my pocket 'twas possible to cut + away the wood around the lock. “Courage!” said I: and pulling it forth, + knelt down to work. + </p> + <p> + Luck in life has always used me better than my deserts. At an hour's end + there I was, hacking away steadily, yet had made but little progress. And + then, pressing the knife deep, I broke the blade off short. The door upon + the far side was cas'd with iron. + </p> + <p> + <i>Tramp—tramp!</i> + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the sound of man's footfall, and to the ear appear'd to be + descending a flight of steps on the other side of the door. I bent my ear + to the keyhole: then stepp'd to a cask of bullets that stood handy by. I + took out a dozen, felt in my pocket for Delia's kerchief that she had + given me, caught up a pike from the pile stack'd in the corner, and softly + blowing out my light, stood back to be conceal'd by the door, when it + open'd. + </p> + <p> + The footsteps still descended. I heard an aged voice muttering— + </p> + <p> + “Shrivel my bones—ugh!—ugh! Wintry work—wintry work! + Here's an hour to send a grandfatherly man a-groping for a keg o' powder!” + </p> + <p> + A wheezy cough clos'd the sentence, as a key was with difficulty fitted in + the lock. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh—ugh! Sure, the lock an' I be a pair, for stiff joints.” + </p> + <p> + The door creak'd back against me, and a shaft of light pierc'd the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + Within the threshold, with his back to me, stood a grey-bearded servant, + and totter'd so that the lantern shook in his hand. It sham'd me to lift a + pike against one so weak. Instead, I dropp'd it with a clatter, and leap'd + forward. The old fellow jumped like a boy, turn'd, and fac'd me with + dropp'd jaw, which gave me an opportunity to thrust four or five bullets, + not over roughly, into his mouth. Then, having turn'd him on his back, I + strapp'd Delia's kerchief tight across his mouth, and took the lantern + from his hand. + </p> + <p> + Not a word was said. Sure, the poor old man's wits were shaken, for he lay + meek as a mouse, and star'd up at me, while I unstrapp'd his belt and + bound his feet with it. His hands I truss'd up behind him with his own + neckcloth; and catching up the lantern, left him there. I lock'd the door + after me, and slip'd the key into my pocket as I sprang up the stairs + beyond. + </p> + <p> + But here a light was shining, so once more I extinguish'd my lantern. The + steps ended in a long passage, with a handsome lamp hanging at the + uttermost end, and beneath this lamp I stepp'd into a place that fill'd me + with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas, I could not doubt, the entrance hall of the governor's house. An + oak door, very massive, fronted me; to left and right were two smaller + doors, that plainly led into apartments of the house. Also to my left, and + nigher than the door on that side, ran up a broad staircase, carpeted and + brightly lit all the way, so that a very blaze fell on me as I stood. + Under the first flight, close to my left shoulder, was a line of pegs with + many cloaks and hats depending therefrom. Underfoot, I remember, the hall + was richly tiled in squares of red and white marble. + </p> + <p> + Now clearly, this was a certain place wherein to be caught. “But,” thought + I, “behind one of the two doors, to left or to right, must lie the + governor's room of business; and in that room—as likely as not—his + keys.” Which door, then, should I choose? For to stay here was madness. + </p> + <p> + While I stood pondering, the doubt was answer'd for me. From behind the + right-hand door came a burst of laughter and clinking of glasses, on top + of which a man's voice—the voice of Colonel Essex—call'd out + for more wine. + </p> + <p> + I took a step to the door on the left, paus'd for a second or two with my + hand on the latch, and then cautiously push'd it open. The chamber was + empty. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a long room, with a light burning on a square centre table, and + around it a mass of books, loose papers and documents strewn, seemingly + without order. The floor too was litter'd with them. Clearly this was the + Colonel's office. + </p> + <p> + I gave a rapid glance around. The lamp's rays scarce illumin'd the far + corners; but in one of these stood a great leathern screen, and over the + fireplace near it a rack was hanging, full of swords, pistols, and walking + canes. Stepping toward it I caught sight of Anthony's sword, suspended + there amongst the rest (they had taken it from me on the day of my + examination); which now I took down and strapp'd at my side. I then chose + out a pistol or two, slipped them into my sash, and advanced to the centre + table. + </p> + <p> + Under the lamplight lay His Majesty's letter, open. + </p> + <p> + My hand was stretch'd out to catch it up, when I heard across the hall a + door open'd, and the sound of men's voices. They were coming toward the + office. + </p> + <p> + There was scarce time to slip back, and hide behind the screen, before the + door latch was lifted, and two men enter'd, laughing yet. + </p> + <p> + “Business, my lord—business,” said the first ('twas Colonel Essex): + “I have much to do to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” the other answer'd, “I thought we had settled it. You are to lend + me a thousand out of your garrison—” + </p> + <p> + “Which, on my own part, I would willingly do. Only I beg you to consider, + my lord, that my position here hangs on a thread. The extreme men are + already against me: they talk of replacing me by Fiennes—” + </p> + <p> + “Nat Fiennes is no soldier.” + </p> + <p> + “No: but he's a bigot—a stronger recommendation. Should this plan + miscarry, and I lose a thousand men—-” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens alive, man! It <i>cannot</i> miscarry. Hark ye: there's Ruthen of + Plymouth will take the south road with all his forces. A day's march + behind I shall follow—along roads to northward—parallel for a + way, but afterward converging. The Cornishmen are all in Bodmin. We shall + come on them with double their number, aye, almost treble. Can you doubt + the issue?” + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely, with the Earl of Stamford for General.” + </p> + <p> + The Earl was too far occupied to notice this compliment. + </p> + <p> + “'Twill be swift and secret,” he said, “as Death himself—and as + sure. Let be the fact that Hopton is all at sixes and sevens since the + Marquis shipp'd for Wales: and at daggers drawn with Mohun.” + </p> + <p> + Said the Colonel slowly—“Aye, the notion is good enough. Were I not + in this corner, I would not think twice. Listen now: only this morning + they forc'd me to order a young man's hanging, who might if kept alive be + forc'd in time to give us news of value. I dar'd not refuse.” + </p> + <p> + “He that you caught with the King's letter?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—a trumpery missive, dealing with naught but summoning of the + sheriff's posse and the like. There is more behind, could we but wait to + get at it.” + </p> + <p> + “The gallows may loosen his tongue. And how of the girl that was taken + too?” + </p> + <p> + “I have her in safe keeping. This very evening I shall visit her, and make + another trial to get some speech. Which puts me in mind—” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel tinkled a small hand bell that lay on the table. + </p> + <p> + The pause that followed was broken by the Earl. + </p> + <p> + “May I see the letter?” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel handed it, and tinkled the bell again, more impatiently. At + length steps were heard in the hall, and a servant open'd the door. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Giles?” ask'd the Colonel. “Why are you taking his place?” + </p> + <p> + “Giles can't be found, your honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” + </p> + <p> + “He's a queer oldster, your honor, an' maybe gone to bed wi' his aches and + pains.” + </p> + <p> + (I knew pretty well that Giles had done no such thing: but be sure I kept + the knowledge safe behind my screen.) + </p> + <p> + “Then go seek him, and say—No, stop: I can't wait. Order the coach + around at the barbican in twenty minutes from now—twenty minutes, + mind, without fail. And say—'twill save time—the fellow's to + drive me to Mistress Finch's house in St. Thomas' Street—sharp!” + </p> + <p> + As the man departed on his errand, the Earl laid down His Majesty's + letter. + </p> + <p> + “Hang the fellow,” he said, “if they want it: the blame, if any, will be + theirs. But, in the name of Heaven, Colonel, don't fail in lending me this + thousand men! 'Twill finish the war out of hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do it,” answered the Colonel slowly. + </p> + <p> + “And I'll remember it,” said the Earl. “To-morrow, at six o'clock, I set + out.” + </p> + <p> + The two men shook hands on their bargain and left the room, shutting the + door after them. + </p> + <p> + I crept forth from behind the screen, my heart thumping on my ribs. Thus + far it had been all fear and trembling with me; but now this was chang'd + to a kind of panting joy. 'Twas not that I had spied the prison keys + hanging near the fireplace, nor that behind the screen lay a heap of the + Colonel's riding boots, whereof a pair, ready spurr'd, fitted me choicely + well; but that my ears tingled with news that turn'd my escape to a matter + of public welfare: and also that the way to escape lay plann'd in my head. + </p> + <p> + Shod in the Colonel's boots, I advanc'd again to the table. With + sealing-wax and the Governor's seal, that lay handy, I clos'd up the + King's letter, and sticking it in my breast, caught down the bunch of keys + and made for the door. + </p> + <p> + The hall was void. I snatch'd down a cloak and heavy broad-brimm'd hat + from one of the pegs, and donning them, slipp'd back the bolts of the + heavy door. It opened without noise. Then, with a last hitch of the cloak, + to bring it well about me, I stepp'd forth into the night, shutting the + door quietly on my heels. + </p> + <p> + My feet were on the pavement of the inner ward. Above, one star only broke + the blackness of the night. Across the court was a sentry tramping. As I + walk'd boldly up, he stopped short by the gate between the wards and + regarded me. + </p> + <p> + Now was my danger. I knew not the right key for the wicket: and if I + fumbled, the fellow would detect me for certain. I chose one and drew + nearer; the fellow look'd, saluted, stepp'd to the wicket, and open'd it + himself. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Colonel!” + </p> + <p> + I did not trust myself to answer: but passed rapidly through to the outer + ward. Here, to my joy, in the arch'd passage of the barbican gate, was the + carriage waiting, the porter standing beside the door; and here also, to + my dismay, was a torch alight, and under it half a dozen soldiers + chatting. A whisper pass'd on my approach— + </p> + <p> + “The Colonel!” and they hurried into the guardroom. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Colonel!” The porter bow'd low, holding the door wide. + </p> + <p> + I pass'd him rapidly, climb'd into the shadow of the coach, and drew a + long breath. + </p> + <p> + Then ensued a hateful pause, as the great gates were unbarr'd. I gripp'd + ray knees for impatience. + </p> + <p> + The driver spoke a word to the porter, who came round to the coach door + again. + </p> + <p> + “To Mistress Finch's, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” I muttered; “and quickly.” + </p> + <p> + The coachman touched up his pair. The wheels mov'd; went quicker. We were + outside the Castle. + </p> + <p> + With what relief I lean'd back as the Castle gates clos'd behind us! And + with what impatience at our slow pace I sat upright again next minute! The + wheels rumbled over the bridge, and immediately we were rolling easily + down hill, through a street of some importance: but by this time the + shutters were up along the shop fronts and very few people abroad. At the + bottom we turn'd sharp to the left along a broader thoroughfare: and then + suddenly drew up. + </p> + <p> + “Are we come?” I wonder'd. But no: 'twas the city gate, and here we had to + wait for three minutes at least, till the sentries recogniz'd the + Colonel's coach and open'd the doors to us. They stood on this side and + that, presenting arms, as we rattled through; and next moment I was + crossing a broad bridge, with the dark Avon on either side of me, and the + vessels thick thereon, their lanterns casting long lines of yellow on the + jetty water, their masts and cordage looming up against the dull glare of + the city. + </p> + <p> + Soon we were between lines of building once more, shops, private dwellings + and warehouses intermix'd; then pass'd a tall church; and in about two + minutes more drew up again. I look'd out. + </p> + <p> + Facing me was a narrow gateway leading to a house that stood somewhat back + from the street, as if slipping away from between the lines of shops that + wedg'd it in on either hand. Over the grill a link was burning. I stepp'd + from the coach, open'd the gate, and crossing the small court, rang at the + house bell. + </p> + <p> + At first there was no answer. I rang again: and now had the satisfaction + to hear a light footfall coming. A bolt was pull'd and a girl appear'd + holding a candle high in her hand. Quick as thought, I stepped past her + into the passage. + </p> + <p> + “Delia!” + </p> + <p> + “Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “Hist! Close the door. Where is Mistress Finch?” + </p> + <p> + “Upstairs, expecting Colonel Essex. Oh, the happy day! Come—” she + led me into a narrow back room and setting down the light regarded me—“Jack, + my eyes are red for thee!” + </p> + <p> + “I see they are. To-morrow I was to be hang'd.” + </p> + <p> + She put her hands together, catching her breath: and very lovely I thought + her, in her straight grey gown and Puritan cap. + </p> + <p> + “They have been questioning me. Didst get my letter?” + </p> + <p> + The answer was on my lip when there came a sound that made us both start. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the dull echo of a gun firing, up at the Castle. + </p> + <p> + “Delia, what lies at the back here?” + </p> + <p> + “A garden and a garden door: after these a lane leading to Redcliff + Street.” + </p> + <p> + “I must go, this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “And I?” + </p> + <p> + She did not wait my answer, but running out into the passage, she came + swiftly back with a heavy key. I open'd the window. + </p> + <p> + “Delia! De-lia!” 'Twas a woman's voice calling her, at the head of the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, Mistress Finch.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was that at the door?” + </p> + <p> + I sprang into the garden and held forth a hand to Delia. “In one moment, + mistress!” call'd she, and in one moment was hurrying with me across the + dark garden beds. As she fitted the key to the garden gate, I heard the + voice again. + </p> + <p> + “De-lia!” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas drown'd in a—wild <i>rat-a-tat!</i> on the street door, and + the shouts of many voices. We were close press'd. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Jack—to the right for our lives! Ah, these clumsy skirts!” + </p> + <p> + We turn'd into the lane and rac'd down it. For my part, I swore to drown + myself in Avon rather than let those troopers retake me. I heard their + outcries about the house behind us, as we stumbled over the frozen rubbish + heaps with which the lane was bestrewn. + </p> + <p> + “What's our direction?” panted I, catching Delia's hand to help her along. + </p> + <p> + “To the left now—for the river.” + </p> + <p> + We struck into a narrow side street; and with that heard a watchman bawl—- + </p> + <p> + “<i>Past nine o' the night, an' a—!</i>” + </p> + <p> + The shock of our collision sent him to finish his say in the gutter. + </p> + <p> + “Thieves!” he yell'd. + </p> + <p> + But already we were twenty yards away, and now in a broader street, + whereof one side was wholly lin'd with warehouses. And here, to our + dismay, we heard shouts behind, and the noise of feet running. + </p> + <p> + About halfway down the street I spied a gateway standing ajar, and pull'd + Delia aside, into a courtyard litter'd with barrels and timbers, and + across it to a black empty barn of a place, where a flight of wooden steps + glimmer'd, that led to an upper story. We climb'd these stairs at a run. + </p> + <p> + “Faugh! What a vile smell!” + </p> + <p> + The loft was pil'd high with great bales of wool, as I found by the touch, + and their odor enough to satisfy an army. Nevertheless, I was groping + about for a place to hide, when Delia touch'd me by the arm, and pointed. + </p> + <p> + Looking, I descried in the gloom a tall quadrilateral of purple, not five + steps away, with a speck of light shining near the top of it, and three + dark streaks running down the middle, whereof one was much thicker than + the rest. 'Twas an open doorway; the speck, a star fram'd within it; the + broad streak, a ship's mast reaching up; and the lesser ones two ends of a + rope, working over a pulley above my head, and used for lowering the bales + of wool on shipboard. + </p> + <p> + Advancing, I stood on the sill and look'd down. On the black water, twenty + feet below, lay a three-masted trader, close against the warehouse. My + toes stuck out over her deck, almost. + </p> + <p> + At first glance I could see no sign of life on board: but presently was + aware of a dark figure leaning over the bulwarks, near the bows. He was + quite motionless. His back was toward us, blotted against the black + shadow; and the man engag'd only, it seem'd, in watching the bright splash + of light flung by the ship's lantern on the water beneath him. + </p> + <p> + I resolv'd to throw myself on the mercy of this silent figure; and put out + a hand to test the rope. One end of it was fix'd to a bale of wool that + lay, as it had been lower'd, on the deck. Flinging myself on the other, I + found it sink gently from the pulley, as the weight below moved slowly + upward: and sinking with it, I held on till my feet touch'd the deck. + </p> + <p> + Still the figure in the bows was motionless. + </p> + <p> + I paid out my end of the rope softly, lowering back the bale of wool: and, + as soon as it rested again on deck, signalled to Delia to let herself + down. + </p> + <p> + She did so. As she alighted, and stood beside me, our hands bungled. The + rope slipp'd up quickly, letting down the bale with a run. + </p> + <p> + We caught at the rope, and stopp'd it just in time: but the pulley above + creak'd vociferously. I turn'd my head. + </p> + <p> + The man in the bows had not mov'd. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. — CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE. + </h2> + <p> + “Now either I am mad or dreaming,” thought I: for that the fellow had not + heard our noise was to me starkly incredible. I stepp'd along the deck + toward him: not an inch did he budge. I touch'd him on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + He fac'd round with a quick start. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said I, quick and low, before he could get a word out—“Sir, + we are in your hands. I will be plain. To-night I have broke out of + Bristol Keep, and the Colonel's men are after me. Give me up to them, and + they hang me to-morrow: give my comrade up, and they persecute her vilely. + Now, sir, I know not which side you be, but there's our case in a + nutshell.” + </p> + <p> + The man bent forward, displaying a huge, rounded face, very kindly about + the eyes, and set atop of the oddest body in the world: for under a trunk + extraordinary broad and strong, straddled & pair of legs that a baby + would have disown'd—so thin and stunted were they, and (to make it + the queerer) ended in feet the most prodigious you ever saw. + </p> + <p> + As I said, this man lean'd forward, and shouted into my ear so that I + fairly leap'd in the air— + </p> + <p> + “My name's Pottery—Bill Pottery, cap'n o' the <i>Godsend</i>—an' + you can't make me hear, not if you bust yoursel'!” + </p> + <p> + You may think this put me in a fine quandary. + </p> + <p> + “I be deaf as nails!” bawl'd he. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas horrible: for the troopers (I thought) if anywhere near, could not + miss hearing him. His voice shook the very rigging. + </p> + <p> + “... An' o' my crew the half ashore gettin' drunk, an' the half below in a + very accomplished state o' liquor: so there's no chance for 'ee to speak!” + </p> + <p> + He paus'd a moment, then roared again—- + </p> + <p> + “What a pity! 'Cos you make me very curious—that you do!” + </p> + <p> + Luckily, at this moment, Delia had the sense to put a finger to her lip. + The man wheel'd round without another word, led us aft over the blocks, + cordage, and all manner of loose gear that encumber'd the deck, to a + ladder that, toward the stern, led down into darkness. Here he sign'd to + us to follow; and, descending first, threw open a door, letting out a + faint stream of light in our faces. 'Twas the captain's cabin, lin'd with + cupboards and lockers: and the light came from an oil lamp hanging over a + narrow deal table. By this light Captain Billy scrutiniz'd us for an + instant: then, from one of his lockers, brought out pen, paper, and ink, + and set them on the table before me. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: “Master Pottery shaking us both by the hand."} + </p> + <p> + I caught up the pen, dipp'd it, and began to write— + </p> + <p> + “I am John Marvel, a servant of King Charles; and this night am escap'd + out of Bristol Castle. If you be—” + </p> + <p> + Thus far I had written without glancing up, in fear to read the + disappointment of my hopes. But now the pen was caught suddenly from my + fingers, the paper torn in shreds, and there was Master Pottery shaking us + both by the hand, nodding and becking, and smiling the while all over his + big red face. + </p> + <p> + But he ceas'd at last: and opening another of his lockers, drew forth a + horn lantern, a mallet, and a chisel. Not a word was spoken as he lit the + lantern and pass'd out of the cabin, Delia and I following at his heels. + </p> + <p> + Just outside, at the foot of the steps, he stoop'd, pull'd up a trap in + the flooring, and disclos'd another ladder stretching, as it seem'd, down + into the bowels of the ship. This we descended carefully; and found + ourselves in the hold, pinching our noses 'twixt finger and thumb. + </p> + <p> + For indeed the smell here was searching to a very painful degree: for the + room was narrow, and every inch of it contested by two puissant essences, + the one of raw wood, the other of bilge water. With wool the place was + pil'd: but also I notic'd, not far from the ladder, several casks set on + their ends; and to these the captain led us. + </p> + <p> + They were about a dozen in all, stacked close together: and Master + Pottery, rolling two apart from the rest, dragg'd them to another trap and + tugg'd out the bungs. A stream of fresh water gush'd from each and + splash'd down the trap into the bilge below. Then, having drained them, he + stay'd in their heads with a few blows of his mallet. + </p> + <p> + His plan for us was clear. And in a very few minutes Delia and I were + crouching on the timbers, each with a cask inverted over us, our noses at + the bungholes and our ears listening to Master Pottery's footsteps as they + climb'd heavily back to deck. The rest of the casks were stack'd close + round us, so that even had the gloom allow'd, we could see nothing at all. + </p> + <p> + “Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “Delia!” + </p> + <p> + “Dost feel heroical at all?” + </p> + <p> + “Not one whit. There's a trickle of water running down my back, to begin + with.” + </p> + <p> + “And my nose it itches; and oh, what a hateful smell! Say something to me, + Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said I, “there is one thing I've been longing these weeks to + say: but this seems an odd place for it.” + </p> + <p> + “What is't?” + </p> + <p> + I purs'd up my lips to the bunghole, and—- + </p> + <p> + “I love you,” said I. — There was silence for a moment: and then, + within Delia's cask, the sound of muffled laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Delia,” I urg'd, “I mean it, upon my oath. Wilt marry me, sweetheart?” + </p> + <p> + “Must get out of this cask first. Oh, Jack, what a dear goose thou art!” + And the laughter began again. + </p> + <p> + I was going to answer, when I heard a loud shouting overhead. 'Twas the + sound of someone hailing the ship, and thought I, “the troopers are on + us!” + </p> + <p> + They were, in truth. Soon I heard the noise of feet above and a string of + voices speaking one after another, louder and louder. And next Master + Pottery began to answer up and drown'd all speech but his own. When he + ceas'd, there was silence for some minutes: after which we heard a party + descend to the cabin, and the trampling of their feet on the boards above + us. They remain'd there some while discussing: and then came footsteps + down the second ladder, and a twinkle of light reach'd me through the + bunghole of my cask. + </p> + <p> + “Quick!” said a husky voice; “overhaul the cargo here!” + </p> + <p> + I heard some half dozen troopers bustling about the hold and tugging out + the bales of wool. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” call'd Master Pottery: “an' when you've done rummaging my ship, put + everything back as you found it.” + </p> + <p> + “Poke about with your swords,” commanded the husky voice. “What's in those + barrels yonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Water, sergeant,” answers a trooper, rolling out a couple. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing behind them?” + </p> + <p> + “No; they're right against the side.” + </p> + <p> + “Drop 'em then. Plague on this business! 'Tis my notion they're a mile + a-way, and Cap'n Stubbs no better than a fool to send us back here. He's + grudging promotion, that's what he is! Hurry, there—hurry!” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later, the searchers were gone; and we in our casks drawing + long breaths of thankfulness and strong odors. And so we crouch'd till, + about midnight, Captain Billy brought us down a supper of ship's biscuit: + which we crept forth to eat, being sorely cramp'd. + </p> + <p> + He could not hear our thanks: but guess'd them. + </p> + <p> + “Now say not a word! To-morrow we sail for Plymouth Sound: thence for + Brittany. Hist! We be all King's men aboard the <i>Godsend</i>, tho' + hearing nought I says little. Yet I have my reasoning heresies, holding + the Lord's Anointed to be an anointed rogue, but nevertheless to be + serv'd: just as aboard the <i>Godsend</i> I be Cap'n Billy an' you plain + Jack, be your virtues what they may. An' the conclusion is—damn all + mutineers an' rebels! Tho', to be sure, the words be a bit lusty for a + young gentlewoman's ears.” + </p> + <p> + We went back to our casks with lighter hearts. Howbeit 'twas near five in + the morning, I dare say, before my narrow bedchamber allow'd me to drop + asleep. + </p> + <p> + I woke to spy through my bunghole the faint light of day struggling down + the hatches. Above, I heard a clanking noise, and the voices of the men + hiccoughing a dismal chant. They were lifting anchor. I crawl'd forth and + woke Delia, who was yet sleeping: and together we ate the breakfast that + lay ready set for us on the head of a barrel. + </p> + <p> + Presently the sailors broke off their song, and we heard their feet + shuffling to and fro on deck. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” cried Delia, “we are moving!” + </p> + <p> + And surely we were, as could be told by the alter'd sound of the water + beneath us, and the many creakings that the <i>Godsend</i> began to keep. + Once more I tasted freedom again, and the joy of living, and could have + sung for the mirth that lifted my heart. “Let us but gain open sea,” said + I, “and I'll have tit-for-tat with these rebels!” + </p> + <p> + But alas! before we had left Avon mouth twenty minutes, 'twas another + tale. For I lay on my side in that dark hold and long'd to die: and Delia + sat up beside me, her hands in her lap, and her great eyes fix'd most + dolefully. And when Captain Billy came down with news that we were safe + and free to go on deck, we turn'd our faces from him, and said we thank'd + him kindly, but had no longer any wish that way—too wretched, even, + to remember his deafness. + </p> + <p> + Let me avoid, then, some miserable hours, and come to the evening, when, + faint with fasting and nausea, we struggled up to the deck for air, and + look'd about us. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas grey—grey everywhere: the sky lead-colored, with deeper shades + toward the east, where a bank of cloud blotted the coast line: the thick + rain descending straight, with hardly wind enough to set the sails + flapping; the sea spread like a plate of lead, save only where, to + leeward, a streak of curded white crawled away from under the <i>Godsend's</i> + keel. + </p> + <p> + On deck, a few sailors mov'd about, red eyed and heavy. They show'd no + surprise to see us, but nodded very friendly, with a smile for our strange + complexions. Here again, as ever, did adversity mock her own image. + </p> + <p> + But what more took our attention was to see a row of men stretch'd on the + starboard side, like corpses, their heads in the scuppers, their legs + pointed inboard, and very orderly arranged. They were a dozen and two in + all, and over them bent Captain Billy with a mop in his hand, and a bucket + by his side: who beckon'd that we should approach. + </p> + <p> + “Array'd in order o' merit,” said he, pointing with his mop like a showman + to the line of figures before him. + </p> + <p> + We drew near. + </p> + <p> + “This here is Matt. Soames, master o' this vessel—an' he's dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Dead-drunk, that is. O the gifted man! Come up!” He thrust the mop in the + fellow's heavy face. “There now! Did he move, did he wink? 'No,' says you. + O an accomplished drunkard!” + </p> + <p> + He paus'd a moment; then stirr'd up No. 2, who open'd one eye lazily, and + shut it again in slumber. + </p> + <p> + “You saw? Open'd one eye, hey? That's Benjamin Halliday. The next is a + black man, as you see: a man of dismal color, and hath other drawbacks + natural to such. Can the Aethiop shift his skin? No, but he'll open both + eyes. See there—a perfect Christian, in so far as drink can make + him.” + </p> + <p> + With like comments he ran down the line till he came to the last man, in + front of whom he stepp'd back. + </p> + <p> + “About this last—he's a puzzler. Times I put him top o' the list, + an' times at the tail. That's Ned Masters, an' was once the Reverend + Edward Masters, Bachelor o' Divinity in Cambridge College; but in a tavern + there fell a-talking with a certain Pelagian about Adam an' Eve, an' + because the fellow turn'd stubborn, put a knife into his waistband, an' + had to run away to sea: a middling drinker only, but after a quart or so + to hear him tackle Predestination! So there be times after all when I + sets'n apart, and says, 'Drunk, you'm no good, but half-drunk, you'm + priceless.' Now there's a man—” He dropp'd his mop, and, leading us + aft, pointed with admiring finger to the helmsman—a thin, wizen'd + fellow, with a face like a crab apple, and a pair of piercing grey eyes + half hidden by the droop of his wrinkled lids. “Gabriel Hutchins, how old + be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Sixty-four, come next Martinmas,” pip'd the helmsman. + </p> + <p> + “In what state o' life?” + </p> + <p> + “Drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “How drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “As a lord!” + </p> + <p> + “Canst stand upright?” + </p> + <p> + “Hee-hee! Now could I iver do other?—a miserable ould worms to whom + the sweet effects o' quantums be denied. When was I iver wholesomely + maz'd? Or when did I lay my grey hairs on the floor, saying, 'Tis enough, + an' 'tis good'? Answer me that, Cap'n Bill.” + </p> + <p> + “But you hopes for the best, Gabriel.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, I hopes—I hopes.” + </p> + <p> + The old man sigh'd as he brought the <i>Godsend</i> a point nearer the + wind; and, as we turn'd away with the Captain, was still muttering, his + sharp grey eyes fix'd on the vessel's prow. + </p> + <p> + “He's my best,” said Captain Billy Pottery. + </p> + <p> + With this crew we pass'd four days; and I write this much of them because + they afterward, when sober, did me a notable good turn, as you shall read + toward the end of this history. But lest you should judge them hardly, let + me say here that when they recovered of their stupor—as happen'd to + the worst after thirty-six hours—there was no brisker, handier set + of fellows on the seas. And this Captain Billy well understood: “but” + (said he) “I be a collector an' a man o' conscience both, which is + uncommon. Doubtless there be good sots that are not good seamen, but from + such I turn my face, drink they never so prettily.” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas necessary I should impart some notion of my errand to Captain Billy, + tho' I confin'd myself to hints, telling him only 'twas urgent I should be + put ashore somewhere on the Cornish coast, for that I carried intelligence + which would not keep till we reached Plymouth, a town that, besides, was + held by the rebels. And he agreed readily to land me in Bude Bay: “and + also thy comrade, if (as I guess) she be so minded,” he added, glancing up + at Delia from the paper whereon I had written my request. + </p> + <p> + She had been silent of late, beyond her wont, avoiding (I thought) to meet + my eye: but answer'd simply, + </p> + <p> + “I go with Jack.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Billy, whose eyes rested on her as she spoke, beckon'd me, very + mysterious, outside the cabin, and winking slily, whisper'd loud enough to + stun one—— + </p> + <p> + “Ply her, Jack”—he had call'd me “Jack” from the first—“ply + her briskly! Womankind is but yielding flesh: 'am an amorous man mysel', + an' speak but that I have prov'd.” + </p> + <p> + On this—for the whole ship could hear it—there certainly came + the sound of a stifled laugh from the other side of the cabin door: but it + did not mend my comrade's shy humor, that lasted throughout the voyage. + </p> + <p> + To be brief, 'twas not till the fourth afternoon (by reason of baffling + head winds) that we stepped out of the <i>Godsend's</i> boat upon a small + beach of shingle, whence, between a rift in the black cliffs, wound up the + road that was to lead us inland. The <i>Godsend</i>, as we turn'd to wave + our hands, lay at half a mile's distance, and made a pretty sight: for the + day, that had begun with a white frost, was now turn'd sunny and still, so + that looking north we saw the sea all spread with pink and lilac and + hyacinth, and upon it the ship lit up, her masts and sails glowing like a + gold piece. And there was Billy, leaning over the bulwarks and waving his + trumpet for “Good-bye!” Thought I, for I little dream'd to see these good + fellows again, “what a witless game is this life! to seek ever in fresh + conjunctions what we leave behind in a hand shake.” 'Twas a cheap + reflection, yet it vex'd me that as we turn'd to mount the road Delia + should break out singing—- + </p> + <p> + “Hey! nonni—nonni—no! Is't not fine to laugh and sing When the + hells of death do ring!—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” said I, “I don't think it”: and capp'd her verse with another— + </p> + <p> + “Silly man, the cost to find Is to leave as good behind—” + </p> + <p> + “Jack, for pity's sake, stop!” She put her fingers to her ears. “What a + nasty, creaking voice thou hast, to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “That's as a man may hold,” said I, nettled. + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed: yours is a very poor voice, but mine is beautiful. So + listen.” + </p> + <p> + She went on to sing as she went, “Green as grass is my kirtle,” “Tire me + in tiffany,” “Come ye bearded men-at-arms,” and “The Bending Rush.” All + these she sang, as I must confess, most delicately well, and then fac'd + me, with a happy smile—- + </p> + <p> + “Now, have not I a sweet voice? Why, Jack—art still glum?” + </p> + <p> + “Delia,” answer'd I, “you have first to give me a reply to what, four days + agone, I ask'd you. Dear girl—nay then, dear comrade—” + </p> + <p> + I broke off, for she had come to a stop, wringing her hands and looking in + my face most dolefully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear—oh, dear! Jack, we have had such merry times: and you are + spoiling all the fun!” + </p> + <p> + We follow'd the road after this very moodily; for Delia, whom I had made + sharer of the rebels' secret, agreed that no time was to be lost in + reaching Bodmin, that lay a good thirty miles to the southwest. Night fell + and the young moon rose, with a brisk breeze at our backs that kept us + still walking without any feeling of weariness. Captain Billy had given me + at parting a small compass, of new invention, that a man could carry + easily in his pocket; and this from time to time I examin'd in the + moonlight, guiding our way almost due south, in hopes of striking into the + main road westward. I doubt not we lost a deal of time among the byways; + but at length happen'd on a good road bearing south, and follow'd it till + daybreak, when to our satisfaction we spied a hill in front, topp'd with a + stout castle, and under it a town of importance, that we guess'd to be + Launceston. + </p> + <p> + By this, my comrade and I were on the best of terms again; and now drew up + to consider if we should enter the town or avoid it to the west, trusting + to find a breakfast in some tavern on the way. Because we knew not with + certainty the temper of the country, it seem'd best to choose this second + course: so we fetch'd around by certain barren meadows, and thought + ourselves lucky to hit on a road that, by the size, must be the one we + sought, and a tavern with a wide yard before it and a carter's van + standing at the entrance, not three gunshots from the town walls. + </p> + <p> + “Now Providence hath surely led us to breakfast,” said Delia, and stepped + before me into the yard, toward the door. + </p> + <p> + I was following her when, inside of a gate to the right of the house, I + caught the gleam of steel, and turn'd aside to look. + </p> + <p> + To my dismay there stood near a score of chargers in this second court, + saddled and dripping with sweat. My first thought was to run after Delia; + but a quick surprise made me rub my eyes with wonder—- + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the sight of a sorrel mare among them—a mare with one high + white stocking. In a thousand I could have told her for Molly. + </p> + <p> + Three seconds after I was at the tavern door, and in my ears a voice + sounding that stopp'd me short and told me in one instant that without + God's help all was lost. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the voice of Captain Settle speaking in the taproom; and already + Delia stood, past concealment, by the open door. + </p> + <p> + “... And therefore, master carter, it grieves me to disappoint thee; but + no man goeth this day toward Bodmin. Such be my Lord of Stamford's orders, + whose servant I am, and as captain of this troop I am sent to exact them. + As they displease you, his lordship is but twenty-four hours behind: you + can abide him and complain. Doubtless he will hear—<i>ten million + devils!</i>” + </p> + <p> + I heard his shout as he caught sight of Delia. I saw his crimson face as + he darted out and gripp'd her. I saw, or half saw, the troopers crowding + out after him. For a moment I hesitated. Then came my pretty comrade's + voice, shrill above the hubbub—- + </p> + <p> + “Jack—they have horses outside! Leave me—I am ta'en—and + ride, dear lad—ride!” + </p> + <p> + In a flash my decision was taken, for better or worse. I dash'd out around + the house, vaulted the gate, and catching at Molly's mane, leap'd into the + saddle. + </p> + <p> + A dozen troopers were at the gate, and two had their pistols levell'd. + </p> + <p> + “Surrender!” + </p> + <p> + “Be hang'd if I do!” + </p> + <p> + I set my teeth and put Molly at the low wall. As she rose like a bird in + air the two pistols rang out together, and a burning pain seem'd to tear + open my left shoulder. In a moment the mare alighted safe on the other + side, flinging me forward on her neck. But I scrambled back, and with a + shout that frighten'd my own ears, dug my heels into her flanks. + </p> + <p> + Half a minute more and I was on the hard road, galloping westward for dear + life. So also were a score of rebel troopers. Twenty miles and more lay + before me; and a bare hundred yards was all my start. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: The two pistols rang out together.} + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. — I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND AM WELL TREATED THERE. + </h2> + <p> + And now I did indeed abandon myself to despair. Few would have given a + groat for my life, with that crew at my heels; and I least of all, now + that my dear comrade was lost. The wound in my shoulder was bleeding sore—I + could feel the warm stream welling—yet not so sore as my heart. And + I pressed my knees into the saddle flap, and wondered what the end would + be. + </p> + <p> + The sorrel mare was galloping, free and strong, her delicate ears laid + back, and the network of veins under her soft skin working with the heave + and fall of her withers: yet—by the mud and sweat about her—I + knew she must have travelled far before I mounted. I heard a shot or two + fired, far up the road: tho' their bullets must have fallen short: at + least, I heard none whiz past. But the rebels' shouting was clear enough, + and the thud of their gallop behind. + </p> + <p> + I think that, for a mile or two, I must have ridden in a sort of swoon. + 'Tis certain, not an inch of the road comes back to me: nor did I once + turn my head to look back, but sat with my eyes fastened stupidly on the + mare's neck. And by-and-bye, as we galloped, the smart of my wound, the + heartache, hurry, pounding of hoofs—all dropp'd to an enchanting + lull. I rode, and that was all. + </p> + <p> + For, swoon or no, I was lifted off earth, as it seemed, and on easy wings + to an incredible height, where were no longer hedges, nor road, nor + country round; but a great stillness, and only the mare and I running + languidly through it. + </p> + <p> + “Ride!” + </p> + <p> + Now, at first, I thought 'twas someone speaking this in my ear, and turn'd + my head. But 'twas really the last word I had heard from Delia, now after + half an hour repeated in my brain. And as I grew aware of this, the + dullness fell off me, and all became very distinct. And the muscles about + my wound had stiffen'd—which was vilely painful: and the country, I + saw, was a brown, barren moor, dotted with peat-ricks: and I cursed it. + </p> + <p> + This did me good: for it woke the fighting-man in me, and I set my teeth. + Now for the first time looking back, I saw, with a great gulp of joy, I + had gained on the troopers. A long dip of the road lay between me and the + foremost, now topping the crest. The sun had broke through at last, and + sparkled on his cap and gorget. I whistled to Molly (I could not pat her), + and spoke to her softly: the sweet thing prick'd up her ears, laid them + back again, and mended her pace. Her stride was beautiful to feel. + </p> + <p> + I had yet no clear idea how to escape. In front the moors rose gradually, + swelling to the horizon line, and there broken into steep, jagged heights. + The road under me was sound white granite and stretch'd away till lost + among these fastnesses—in all of it no sign of man's habitation. Be + sure I look'd along it, and to right and left, dreading to spy more + troopers. But for mile on mile, all was desolate. + </p> + <p> + Now and then I caught the cry of a pewit, or saw a snipe glance up from + his bed; but mainly I was busied about the mare. “Let us but gain the + ridge ahead,” thought I, “and there is a chance.” So I rode as light as I + could, husbanding her powers. + </p> + <p> + She was going her best, but the best was near spent. The sweat was oozing, + her satin coat losing the gloss, the spume flying back from her nostrils—“Soh!” + I called to her: “Soh! my beauty; we ride to save an army!” The loose + stones flew right and left, as she reach'd out her neck, and her breath + came shorter and shorter. + </p> + <p> + A mile, and another mile, we passed in this trim, and by the end of it + must have spent three-quarters of an hour at the work. Glancing back, I + saw the troopers scattered; far behind, but following. The heights were + still a weary way ahead: but I could mark their steep sides ribb'd with + boulders. Till these were passed, there was no chance to hide. The parties + in this race could see each other all the way, and must ride it out. + </p> + <p> + And all the way the ground kept rising. I had no means to ease the mare, + even by pulling off my heavy jack-boots, with one arm (and that my right) + dangling useless. Once she flung up her head and I caught sight of her + nostril, red as fire, and her poor eyes starting. I felt her strength + ebbing between my knees. Here and there she blundered in her stride. And + somewhere, over the ridge yonder, lay the Army of the West, and we alone + could save it. + </p> + <p> + The road, for half a mile, now fetched a sudden loop, though the country + on either side was level enough. Had my head been cool, I must have + guessed a reason for this: but, you must remember, I had long been giddy + with pain and loss of blood—so, thinking to save time, I turned + Molly off the granite, and began to cut across. + </p> + <p> + The short grass and heath being still frozen, we went fairly for the first + minute or so. But away behind us, I heard a shout—and it must have + been loud to reach me. I learn'd the meaning when, about two hundred yards + before we came on the road again, the mare's forelegs went deep, and next + minute we were plunging in a black peat-quag. + </p> + <p> + Heaven can tell how we won through. It must have been still partly frozen, + and perhaps we were only on the edge of it. I only know that as we + scrambled up on solid ground, plastered and breathless, I looked at the + wintry sun, the waste, and the tall hill tow'ring to the right of us, and + thought it a strange place to die in. + </p> + <p> + For the struggle had burst open my wound again, and the blood was running + down my arm and off my fingers in a stream. And now I could count every + gorsebush, every stone—and now I saw nothing at all. And I heard the + tinkling of bells: and then found a tune running in my head—'twas + “Tire me in tiffany,” and I tried to think where last I heard it. + </p> + <p> + But sweet gallant Molly must have held on: for the next thing I woke up to + was a four-hol'd cross beside the road: and soon after we were over the + ridge and clattering down hill. + </p> + <p> + A rough tor had risen full in front, but the road swerved to the left and + took us down among the spurs of it. Now was my last lookout. I tried to + sway less heavily in the saddle, and with my eyes searched the plain at + our feet. + </p> + <p> + Alas! Beneath us the waste land was spread, mile upon mile: and I groaned + aloud. For just below I noted a clump of roofless cabins, and beyond, upon + the moors, the dotted walls of sheep-cotes, ruined also: but in all the + sad-color'd leagues no living man, nor the sign of one. It was done with + us. I reined up the mare—and then, in the same motion, wheeled her + sharp to the right. + </p> + <p> + High above, on the hillside, a voice was calling. + </p> + <p> + I look'd up. Below the steeper ridge of the tor a patch of land had been + cleared for tillage: and here a yoke of oxen was moving leisurely before a + plough ('twas their tinkling bells I had heard, just now); while behind + followed the wildest shape—by the voice, a woman. + </p> + <p> + She was not calling to me, but to her team: and as I put Molly at the + slope, her chant rose and fell in the mournfullest singsong. + </p> + <p> + “So-hoa! Oop Comely Vean! oop, then—o-oop!” + </p> + <p> + I rose in my stirrups and shouted. + </p> + <p> + At this and the sound of hoofs, she stay'd the plough and, hand on hip, + looked down the slope. The oxen, softly rattling the chains on their yoke, + turn'd their necks and gazed. With sunk head Molly heaved herself up the + last few yards and came to a halt with a stagger. I slipp'd out of the + saddle and stood, with a hand on it, swaying. + </p> + <p> + “What's thy need, young man—that comest down to Temple wi' sword + a-danglin'?” + </p> + <p> + The girl was a half-naked savage, dress'd only in a strip of sacking that + barely reach'd her knees, and a scant bodice of the same, lac'd in front + with pack thread, that left her bosom and brown arms free. Yet she + appear'd no whit abash'd, but lean'd on the plough-tail and regarded me, + easy and frank, as a man would. + </p> + <p> + “Sell me a horse,” I blurted out: “Twenty guineas will I give for one + within five minutes, and more if he be good! I ride on the King's errand.” + </p> + <p> + “Then get thee back to thy master, an' say, no horse shall he have o' me—nor + any man that uses horseflesh so.” She pointed to Molly's knees, that were + bow'd and shaking, and the bloody froth dripping from her mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Girl, for God's sake sell me a horse! They are after me, and I am hurt.” + I pointed up the road. “Better than I are concerned in this.” + </p> + <p> + “God nor King know I, young man. But what's on thy saddle cloth, there?” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the smear where my blood had soak'd: and looking and seeing the + purple mess cak'd with mud and foam on the sorrel's flank, I felt suddenly + very sick. The girl made a step to me. + </p> + <p> + “Sell thee a horse? Hire thee a bedman, more like. Nay, then, lad—” + </p> + <p> + But I saw her no longer: only called “oh-oh!” twice, like a little child, + and slipping my hold of the saddle, dropp'd forward on her breast. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * * * * * * * +</pre> + <p> + Waking, I found myself in darkness—not like that of night, but of a + room where the lights have gone out: and felt that I was dying. But this + hardly seem'd a thing to be minded. There was a smell of peat and bracken + about. Presently I heard the tramp of feet somewhere overhead, and a dull + sound of voices that appear'd to be cursing. + </p> + <p> + The footsteps went to and fro, the voices muttering most of the time. + After a bit I caught a word—“Witchcraft”: and then a voice speaking + quite close—“There's blood 'pon her hands, an' there's blood yonder + by the plough.” Said another voice, higher and squeaky, “there's scent + behind a fox, but you don't dig it up an' take it home.” The tramp passed + on, and the voices died away. + </p> + <p> + By this I knew the troopers were close, and seeking me. A foolish thought + came that I was buried, and they must be rummaging over my grave: but + indeed I had no wish to enquire into it; no wish to move even, but just to + lie and enjoy the lightness of my limbs. The blood was still running. I + felt the warmth of it against my back: and thought it very pleasant. So I + shut my eyes and dropp'd off again. + </p> + <p> + Then I heard the noise of shouting, far away: and a long while after that, + was rous'd by the touch of a hand, thrust in against my naked breast, over + my heart. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” I whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Joan,” answered a voice, and the hand was withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + The darkness had lifted somewhat, and though something stood between me + and the light, I mark'd a number of small specks, like points of gold + dotted around me— + </p> + <p> + “Joan—what besides?” + </p> + <p> + “Joan's enough, I reckon: lucky for thee 'tis none else. Joan o' the Tor + folks call me, but may jet be Joan i' Good Time. So hold thy peace, lad, + an' cry out so little as may be.” + </p> + <p> + I felt a ripping of my jacket sleeve and shirt, now clotted and stuck to + the flesh. It pain'd cruelly, but I shut my teeth: and after that came the + smart and delicious ache of water, as she rinsed the wound. + </p> + <p> + “Clean through the flesh, lad:—in an' out, like country dancin'. No + bullet to probe nor bone to set. Heart up, soce! Thy mother shall kiss + thee yet. What's thy name?” + </p> + <p> + “Marvel, Joan—Jack Marvel.” + </p> + <p> + “An' marvel 'tis thou'rt Marvel yet. Good blood there's in thee, but + little enow.” + </p> + <p> + She bandaged the sore with linen torn from my shirt, and tied it round + with sackcloth from her own dress. 'Twas all most gently done: and then I + found her arms under me, and myself lifted as easy as a baby. + </p> + <p> + “Left arm round my neck, Jack: an' sing out if 'tis hurtin' thee.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed but six steps and we were out on the bright hillside, not fifty + paces from where the plough yet stood in the furrow. I caught a glimpse of + a brown neck and a pair of firm red lips, of the grey tor stretching above + us and, further aloft, a flock of field fare hanging in the pale sky; and + then shut my eyes for the dazzle: but could still feel the beat of Joan's + heart as she held me close, and the touch of her breath on my forehead. + </p> + <p> + Down the hill she carried me, picking the softest turf, and moving with an + easeful swing that rather lull'd my hurt than jolted it. I was dozing, + even, when a strange noise awoke me. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a high protracted note, that seem'd at first to swell up toward us, + and then broke off in half a dozen or more sharp yells. Joan took no heed + of them, but seeing my eyes unclose, and hearing me moan, stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “Hurts thee, lad?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” 'Twas not my pain but the sight of the sinking sun that wrung the + exclamation from me—“I was thinking,” I muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Don't: 'tis bad for health. But bide thee still a-while, and shalt lie + 'pon a soft bed.” + </p> + <p> + By this time, we had come down to the road: and the yells were still going + on, louder than ever. We cross'd the road, descended another slope, and + came all at once on a low pile of buildings that a moment before had been + hid. 'Twas but three hovels of mud, stuck together in the shape of a + headless cross, the main arm pointing out toward the moor. Around the + whole ran a battered wall, patched with furs; and from this dwelling the + screams were issuing— + </p> + <p> + “Joan!” the voice began, “Joan—Jan Tergagle's a-clawin' my legs—Gar-rout, + thou hell cat—Blast thee, let me zog! Pull'n off Joan—Jo-an!” + </p> + <p> + The voice died away into a wail; then broke out in a racket of curses. + Joan stepped to the door and flung it wide. As my eyes grew used to the + gloom inside, they saw this:— + </p> + <p> + A rude kitchen—the furniture but two rickety chairs, now toss'd on + their faces, an oak table, with legs sunk into the earth, a keg of strong + waters, tilted over and draining upon the mud floor, a ladder leading up + to a loft, and in two of the corners a few bundles of bracken strewn for + bedding. To the left, as one entered, was an open hearth; but the glowing + peat-turves were now pitch'd to right and left over the hearthstone and + about the floor, where they rested, filling the den with smoke. Under one + of the chairs a black cat spat and bristled: while in the middle of the + room, barefooted in the embers, crouched a man. He was half naked, old and + bent, with matted grey hair and beard hanging almost to his waist. His + chest and legs were bleeding from a score of scratches; and he pointed at + the cat, opening and shutting his mouth like a dog, and barking out curse + upon curse. + </p> + <p> + No way upset, Joan stepped across the kitchen, laid me on one of the + bracken beds, and explain'd— + </p> + <p> + “That's feyther: he's drunk.” + </p> + <p> + With which she turn'd, dealt the old man a cuff that stretch'd him + senseless, and gathering up the turves, piled them afresh on the hearth. + This done, she took the keg and gave me a drink of it. The stuff scalded + me, but I thanked her. And then, when she had shifted my bed a bit, to + ease the pain of lying, she righted a chair, drew it up and sat beside me. + The old man lay like a log where he had fallen, and was now snoring. + Presently, the fumes of the liquor, or mere faintness, mastered me, and my + eyes closed. But the picture they closed upon was that of Joan, as she + lean'd forward, chin on hand, with the glow of the fire on her brown skin + and in the depths of her dark eyes. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: Joan} + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. — HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE + FIGHT ON BRADDOCK DOWN. + </h2> + <p> + But the pain of my hurt followed into my dreams. I woke with a start, and + tried to sit up. + </p> + <p> + Within the kitchen all was quiet. The old savage was still stretch'd on + the floor: the cat curled upon the hearth. The girl had not stirr'd: but + looking toward the window hole, I saw night out side, and a frosty star + sparkling far down in the west. + </p> + <p> + “Joan, what's the hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Sun's been down these four hours.” She turned her face to look at me. + </p> + <p> + “I've no business lying here.” + </p> + <p> + “Chose to come, lad: none axed thee, that <i>I</i> knows by.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's the mare? Must set me across her back, Joan, and let me ride on.” + </p> + <p> + “Mare's in stable, wi' fetlocks swelled like puddens. Chose to come, lad; + an' choose or no, must bide.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis for the General Hopton, at Bodmin, I am bound, Joan; and wound or + no, must win there this night.” + </p> + <p> + “And that's seven mile away: wi' a bullet in thy skull, and a peat quag + thy burial. For <i>they</i> went south, and thy road lieth more south than + west.” + </p> + <p> + “The troopers?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, Jack: an' work I had this day wi' those same bloody warriors: but + take a sup at the keg, and bite this manchet of oat cake while I tell + thee.” + </p> + <p> + And so, having fed me, and set my bed straight, she sat on the floor + beside me (for the better hearing), and in her uncouth tongue, told how I + had been saved. I cannot write her language; but the tale, in sum, was + this:— + </p> + <p> + When I dropp'd forward into her arms, Joan for a moment was taken aback, + thinking me dead. But (to quote her) “'no good,' said I, 'in cuddlin' a + lad 'pon the hillside, for folks to see, tho' he <i>have</i> a-got curls + like a wench: an' dead or 'live, no use to wait for others to make sure.'” + </p> + <p> + So she lifted and carried me to a spot hard by, that she called the “Jew's + Kitchen;” and where that was, even with such bearings as I had, she defied + me to discover. There was no time to tend me, whilst Molly stood near to + show my whereabouts: so she let me lie, and went to lead the sorrel down + to stable. + </p> + <p> + Her hand was on the bridle when she heard a <i>Whoop!</i> up the road; and + there were half a dozen riders on the crest, and tearing down hill toward + her. Joan had nothing left but to feign coolness, and went on leading the + mare down the slope. + </p> + <p> + In a while, up comes the foremost trooper, draws rein, and pants out + “Where's he to?” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” asks Joan, making out to be surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the lad whose mare thou'rt leadin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Mile an' half away by now.” + </p> + <p> + “How's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Freshly horsed,” explains Joan. + </p> + <p> + The troopers—they were all around her by this—swore 'twas a + lie; but luckily, being down in the hollow, could not see over the next + ridge. They began a string of questions all together: but at last a little + tun bellied sergeant call'd “Silence!” and asked the girl, “did she loan + the fellow a horse?” + </p> + <p> + Here I will quote her again:— + </p> + <p> + “'Sir, to thee,' I answer'd, 'no loan at all, but fair swap for our Grey + Robin.' + </p> + <p> + “'That's a lie,' he says; 'an' I won't believe thee.' + </p> + <p> + “'Might so well,' says I; 'but go to stable, an' see for thysel' (Never + had grey horse to my name, Jack; but, thinks I, that's <i>his'n</i> + lookout.)” + </p> + <p> + They went, did these simple troopers, to look at the stable, and sure + enough, there was no Grey Robin. Nevertheless, some amongst them had logic + enough to take this as something less than proof convincing, and spent + three hours and more ransacking the house and barn, and searching the tor + and the moors below it. I learn'd too, that Joan had come in for some + rough talk—to which she put a stop, as she told me, by offering to + fight any man Jack of them for the buttons on his buffcoat. And at length, + about sundown, they gave up the hunt, and road away over the moors toward + Warleggan, having (as the girl heard them say) to be at Braddock before + night. + </p> + <p> + “Where is this Braddock?” + </p> + <p> + “Nigh to Lord Mohun's house at Boconnoc: seven mile away to the south, and + seven mile or so from Bodmin, as a crow flies.” + </p> + <p> + “Then go I must,” cried I: and hereupon I broke out with all the trouble + that was on my mind, and the instant need to save these gallant gentlemen + of Cornwall, ere two armies should combine against them. I told of the + King's letter in my breast, and how I found the Lord Stamford's men at + Launceston; how that Ruthen, with the vanguard of the rebels, was now at + Liskeard, with but a bare day's march between the two, and none but I to + carry the warning. And “Oh, Joan!” I cried, “my comrade I left upon the + road. Brighter courage and truer heart never man proved, and yet left by + me in the rebels' hands. Alas! that I could neither save nor help, but + must still ride on: and here is the issue—to lie struck down within + ten mile of my goal—I, that have traveled two hundred. And if the + Cornishmen be not warned to give fight before Lord Stamford come up, all's + lost. Even now they be outnumber'd. So lift me, Joan, and set me astride + Molly, and I'll win to Bodmin yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Reckon, Jack, thou'd best hand <i>me</i> thy letter.” + </p> + <p> + Now, I did not at once catch the intent of these words, so simply spoken; + but stared at her like an owl. + </p> + <p> + “There's horse in stall, lad,” she went on, “tho' no Grey Robin. + Tearaway's the name, and strawberry the color.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Joan, Joan, if you do this—feel inside my coat here, to the + left—you will save an army, girl, maybe a throne! Here 'tis, Joan, + see—no, not that—here! Say the seal is that of the Governor of + Bristol, who stole it from me for a while: but the handwriting will be + known for the King's: and no hand but yours must touch it till you stand + before Sir Ralph Hopton. The King shall thank you, Joan; and God will + bless you for't.” + </p> + <p> + “Hope so, I'm sure. But larn me what to say, lad: for I be main thick + witted.” + </p> + <p> + So I told her the message over and over, till she had it by heart. + </p> + <p> + “Shan't forgit, now,” she said, at length; “an' so hearken to me for a + change. Bide still, nor fret thysel'. Here's pasty an' oat cake, an' a keg + o' water that I'll stow beside thee. Pay no heed to feyther, an' if he + wills to get drunk an' fight wi' Jan Tergagle—that's the cat—why + let'n. Drunk or sober, he's no 'count.” + </p> + <p> + She hid the letter in her bosom, and stepp'd to the door. On the threshold + she turned— + </p> + <p> + “Jack—forgot to ax: what be all this bloodshed about?” + </p> + <p> + “For Church and King, Joan.” + </p> + <p> + “H'm: same knowledge ha' I o' both—an' that's naught. But I dearly + loves fair play.” + </p> + <p> + She was gone. In a minute or so I heard the trampling of a horse: and + then, with a scurry of hoofs, Joan was off on the King's errand, and + riding into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Little rest had I that night; but lay awake on my bracken bed and watched + the burning peat-turves turn to grey, and drop, flake by flake, till only + a glowing point remained. The door rattled now and then on the hinge: out + on the moor the light winds kept a noise persistent as town dogs at + midnight: and all the while my wound was stabbing, and the bracken + pricking me till I groaned aloud. + </p> + <p> + As day began to break, the old man picked himself up, yawned and lounged + out, returning after a time with fresh turves for the hearth. He noticed + me no more than a stone, but when the fire was restack'd, drew up his + chair to the warmth, and breakfasted on oat cake and a liberal deal of + liquor. Observing him, the black cat uncoil'd, stretch'd himself, and + climbing to his master's knee, sat there purring, and the best of friends. + I also judged it time to breakfast: found my store: took a bite or two, + and a pull at the keg, and lay back—this time to sleep. + </p> + <p> + When I woke, 'twas high noon. The door stood open, and outside on the wall + the winter sunshine was lying, very bright and clear. Indoors, the old + savage had been drinking steadily; and still sat before the fire, with the + cat on one knee, and his keg on the other. I sat up and strain'd my ears. + Surely, if Joan had not failed, the royal generals would march out and + give battle at once: and surely, if they were fighting, not ten miles + away, some sound of it would reach me. But beyond the purring of the cat, + I heard nothing. + </p> + <p> + I crawl'd to my feet, rested a moment to stay the giddiness, and totter'd + across to the door, where I lean'd, listening and gazing south. No strip + of vapor lay on the moors that stretch'd—all bathed in the most + wonderful bright colors—to the lip of the horizon. The air was like + a sounding board. I heard the bleat of an old wether, a mile off, upon the + tors; and was turning away dejected, when, far down in the south, there + ran a sound that set my heart leaping. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the crackling of musketry. + </p> + <p> + There was no mistaking it. The noise ran like wildfire along the hills: + before echo could overtake it, a low rumbling followed, and then the + brisker crackling again. I caught at the door post and cried, faint with + the sudden joy—- + </p> + <p> + “Thou angel, Joan!—thou angel!” + </p> + <p> + And then, as something took me by the throat—“Joan, Joan—to + see what thou seest!” + </p> + <p> + A long time I lean'd by the door post there, drinking in the sound that + now was renewed at quicker intervals. Yet, for as far as I could see, + 'twas the peacefullest scene, though dreary—quiet sunshine on the + hills, and the sheep dotted here and there, cropping. But down yonder, + over the edge of the moors, men were fighting and murdering each other: + and I yearn'd to see how the day went. + </p> + <p> + Being both weak and loth to miss a sound of it, I sank down on the + threshold, and there lay, with my eyes turned southward, through a gap in + the stone fence. In a while the musketry died away, and I wondered: but + thought I could still at times mark a low sound as of men shouting, and + this, as I learn'd after, was the true battle. + </p> + <p> + It must have been an hour or more before I saw a number of black specks + coming over the ridge of hills, and swarming down into the plain toward + me: and then a denser body following. 'Twas a company of horse, moving at + a great pace: and I guessed that the battle was done, and these were the + first fugitives of the beaten army. + </p> + <p> + On they came, in great disorder, scattering as they advanced: and now, in + parts, the hill behind was black with footmen, running. 'Twas a rout, sure + enough. Once or twice, on the heights, I beard a bugle blown, as if to + rally the crowd: but saw nothing come of it, and presently the notes + ceased, or I forgot to listen. + </p> + <p> + The foremost company of horse was heading rather to the eastward of me, to + gain the high road; and the gross pass'd me by at half a mile's distance. + But some came nearer, and to my extreme joy, I learn'd from their arms and + shouting, what till now I had been eagerly hoping, that 'twas the rebel + army thus running in rout: and tho' now without strength to kneel, I had + enough left to thank God heartily. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas so curious to see the plain thus suddenly fill'd with rabble, all + running from the south, and the silly startled sheep rushing + helter-skelter, and huddling together on the tors above, that I forgot my + own likely danger if any of this revengeful crew should come upon me lying + there: and was satisfied to watch them as they straggled over the moors + toward the road. Some pass'd close to the cottage; but none seem'd anxious + to pause there. 'Twas a glad and a sorry sight. I saw a troop of dragoons + with a standard in their midst; and a drummer running behind, too far + distracted even to cast his drum away, so that it dangled against his + back, with a great rent where the music had been; and then two troopers + running together; and one that was wounded lay down for a while within a + stone's throw of me, and would not go further, till at last his comrade + persuaded him; and after them a larger company, in midst of whom was a man + crying, “We are sold, I tell ye, and I can point to the man!” and so + passed by. There were some, too, that were galloping three stout horses in + a carriage, and upon it a brass twelve pounder. But the carriage stuck + fast in a quag, and so they cut the traces and left it there, where, two + days after, Sir John Berkeley's dragoons found and pulled it out. And this + was the fourth, I had heard, that the King's troops took in that victory. + </p> + <p> + Yet there were not above five or six hundred in all that I saw; and I + guessed (as was the case) that this must be but an off-shoot, so to say, + of the bigger rout that pass'd eastward through Liskeard. I was thinking + of this when I heard footsteps near, and a man came panting through a gap + in the wall, into the yard. + </p> + <p> + He was a big, bareheaded fellow, exceedingly flush'd with running, but + unhurt, as far as I could see. Indeed, he might easily have kill'd me, and + for a moment I thought sure he would. But catching sight of me, he nodded + very friendly, and sitting on a heap of stones a yard or two away, began + to draw off his boot, and search for a prickle, that it seem'd had got + into it. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis a mess of it, yonder,” said he, quietly, and jerk'd his thumb over + his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + By the look of me, he could tell I was on the other side; but this did not + appear to concern him. + </p> + <p> + “How has it gone?” asked I. — “Well,” says he, with his nose in the + boot; “we had a pretty rising ground, and the Cornishmen march'd up and + whipp'd us out—that's all—and took a mort o' prisoners.” He + found the prickle, drew on his boot again, and asked—- + </p> + <p> + “T'other side?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. + </p> + <p> + “That's the laughing side, this day. Good evening.” + </p> + <p> + And with that he went off as fast as he came. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas, may be, an hour after, that another came in through the same gap: + this time a lean, hawk-eyed man, with a pinch'd face and two ugly gashes—one + across the brow from left eye to the roots of his hair, the other in his + leg below the knee, that had sliced through boot and flesh like a + scythe-cut. His face was smear'd with blood, and he carried a musket. + </p> + <p> + “Water!” he bark'd out as he came trailing into the yard. “Give me water—I'm + a dead man!” + </p> + <p> + He was stepping over me to enter the kitchen, when he halted and said—- + </p> + <p> + “Art a malignant, for certain!” + </p> + <p> + And before I had a chance to reply, his musket was swung up, and I felt my + time was come to die. + </p> + <p> + But now the old savage, that had been sitting all day before his fire, + without so much as a sign to show if he noticed aught that was passing, + jump'd up with a yell and leap'd toward us. He and the cat were on the + poor wretch together, tearing and clawing. I can hear their hellish + outcries to this day: but at the moment they turn'd me faint. And the next + thing I recall is being dragged inside by the old man, who shut the door + after me and slipp'd the bolt, leaving the wounded trooper on the other + side. He beat against it for some time, sobbing piteously for water: and + then I heard him groaning at intervals, till he died. At least, the groans + ceased; and next day he was found with his back against the cottage wall, + stark and dead. + </p> + <p> + Having pulled me inside, Joan's father must have thought he had done + enough: for on the floor I lay for hours, and passed from one swoon into + another. He and the cat had gone back to the fire again, and long before + evening both were sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + So there I lay helpless, till, at nightfall, there came the trampling of a + horse outside, and then a rap on the door. The old man started up and + opened it: and in rushed Joan, her eyes lit up, her breast heaving, and in + her hand a naked sword. + </p> + <p> + “Church and King, Jack!” she cried, and flung the blade with a clang on to + the table. “Church and King! O brave day's work, lad—O bloody work + this day!” + </p> + <p> + And I swooned again. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. — I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH + MR. HANNIBAL + </h2> + <h3> + TINGCOMB. + </h3> + <p> + There had, indeed, been brave work on Braddock Down that 19th of January. + For Sir Ralph Hopton with the Cornish grandees had made short business of + Ruthen's army—driving it headlong back on Liskeard at the first + charge, chasing it through that town, and taking 1,200 prisoners + (including Sir Shilston Calmady), together with many colors, all the rebel + ordnance and ammunition, and most of their arms. At Liskeard, after + refreshing their men, and holding next day a solemn thanksgiving to God, + they divided—the Lord Mohun with Sir Ralph Hopton and Colonel + Godolphin marching with the greater part of the army upon Saltash, whither + Ruthen had fled and was entrenching himself; while Sir John Berkeley and + Colonel Ashburnham, with a small party of horse and dragoons and the + voluntary regiments of Sir Bevill Grenville, Sir Nich. Slanning, and + Colonel Trevanion, turned to the northeast, toward Launceston and + Tavistock, to see what account they might render of the Earl of Stamford's + army; that, however, had no stomach to await them, but posted out of the + county into Plymouth and Exeter. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas on this expedition that two or three of the captains I have + mentioned halted for an hour or more at Temple, as well to recognize + Joan's extreme meritorious service, as to thank me for the part I had in + bringing news of the Earl of Stamford's advance. For 'twas this, they + own'd, had saved them—the King's message being but an exhortation + and an advertisement upon some lesser matters, the most of which were + already taken out of human hands by the turn of events. + </p> + <p> + But though, as I learn'd, these gentlemen were full of compliments and + professions of esteem, I neither saw nor heard them, being by this time + delirious of a high fever that followed my wound. And not till three good + weeks after, was I recover'd enough to leave my bed, nor, for many more, + did my full strength return to me. No mother could have made a tenderer + nurse than was Joan throughout this time. 'Tis to her I owe it that I am + alive to write these words: and if the tears scald my eyes as I do so, you + will pardon them, I promise, before the end of my tail is reach'd. + </p> + <p> + In the first days of my recovery, news came to us (I forget how) that a + solemn sacrament had been taken between the parties in Devon and Cornwall, + and the country was a peace. Little I cared, at the time: but was content—now + spring was come—to loiter about the tors, and while watching Joan at + her work, to think upon Delia. For, albeit I had little hope to see her + again, my late pretty comrade held my thoughts the day long. I shared them + with nobody: for tho' 'tis probable I had let some words fall in my + delirium, Joan never hinted at this, and I never found out. + </p> + <p> + To Joan's company I was left: for her father, after saving my life that + afternoon, took no further notice of me by word or deed; and the cat, Jan + Tergagle (nam'd after a spirit that was said to haunt the moors + hereabouts), was as indifferent. So with Joan I passed the days idly, + tending the sheep, or waiting on her as she ploughed, or lying full length + on the hillside and talking with her of war and battles. 'Twas the one + topic on which she was curious (scoffing at me when I offered to teach her + to read print), and for hours she would listen to stories of Alexander and + Hannibal, Caesar and Joan of Arc, and other great commanders whose history + I remember'd. + </p> + <p> + One evening—'twas early in May—we had climb'd to the top of + the grey tor above Temple, whence we could spy the white sails of the two + Channels moving, and, stretch'd upon the short turf there, I was telling + my usual tale. Joan lay beside me, her chin propp'd on one earth-stain'd + hand, her great solemn eyes wide open as she listened. Till that moment I + had regarded her rather as a man comrade than a girl, but now some + feminine trick of gesture awoke me perhaps, for my fancy began to contrast + her with Delia, and I broke off my story and sigh'd. + </p> + <p> + “Art longing to be hence?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + I felt ashamed to be thus caught, and was silent. She look'd at me and + went on— + </p> + <p> + “Speak out, lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Loth would I be to leave you, Joan.” + </p> + <p> + “And why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, we are good friends, I hope: and I am grateful.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, aye—wish thee'd learn to speak the truth, Jack. Art longing to + be hence, and shalt—soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Joan, you would not have me dwell here always?” + </p> + <p> + She made no answer for a while, and then with a change of tone— + </p> + <p> + “Shalt ride wi' me to Bodmin Fair to-morrow for a treat, an' see the Great + Turk and the Fat 'Ooman and hocus-pocus. So tell me more 'bout Joan the + Frenchwoman.” + </p> + <p> + On the morrow, about nine in the morning, we set off—Joan on the + strawberry, balanced easily on an old sack, which was all her saddle; and + I on Molly, that now was sound again and chafing to be so idle. As we set + out, Joan's father for the first time took some notice of me, standing at + the door to see us off and shouting after us to bring home some account of + the wrestling. Looking back at a quarter mile's distance I saw him still + fram'd in the doorway, with the cat perch'd on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Bodmin town is naught but a narrow street, near on a mile long, and + widening toward the western end. It lies mainly along the south side of a + steep vale, and this May morning as Joan and I left the moors and rode + down to it from northward, already we could hear trumpets blowing, the big + drum sounding, and all the bawling voices and hubbub of the fair. + Descending, we found the long street lin'd with booths and shows, and nigh + blocked with the crowd: for the revel began early and was now in full + swing. And the crew of gipsies, whifflers, mountebanks, fortune tellers, + cut-purses and quacks, mix'd up with honest country faces, beat even the + rabble I had seen at Wantage. + </p> + <p> + Now my own first business was with a tailor: for the clothes I wore when I + rode into Temple, four months back, had been so sadly messed with blood, + and afterward cut, to free them from my wound, that now all the tunic I + wore was of sackcloth, contrived and stitch'd together by Joan. So I made + at once for a decent shop, where luckily I found a suit to fit me, one + taken (the tailor said) off a very promising young gentleman that had the + misfortune to be kill'd on Braddock Down. Arrayed in this, I felt myself + again, and offered to take Joan to see the Fat Woman. + </p> + <p> + We saw her, and the Aethiop, and the Rhinoceros (which put me in mind of + poor Anthony Killigrew), and the Pig-fac'd Baby, and the Cudgel play; and + presently halted before a Cheap Jack, that was crying his wares in a + prodigious loud voice, near the town wall. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a meagre, sharp-visag'd fellow with a grey chin beard like a billy + goat's; and (as fortune would have it) spying our approach, he picked out + a mirror from his stock and holding it aloft, addressed us straight— + </p> + <p> + “What have we here,” cries he, “but a pair o' lovers coming? and what i' + my hand but a lover's hourglass? Sure the stars of heav'n must have a hand + in this conjuncture—and only thirteen pence, my pretty fellow, for a + glass that will tell the weather i' your sweetheart's face, and help make + it fine.” + </p> + <p> + There were many country fellows with their maids in the crowd, that turned + their heads at this address; and as usual the women began. + </p> + <p> + “Tis Joan o' the Tor!” + </p> + <p> + “Joan's picked up wi' a sweetheart—tee-hee!—an' us reckoned + her'd forsworn mankind!” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Some furriner, sure: that likes garlic.” + </p> + <p> + “He's bought her no ribbons yet.” + </p> + <p> + “How should he, poor lad; that can find no garments upon her to fasten 'em + to?” + </p> + <p> + And so on, with a deal of spiteful laughter. Some of these sayings were + half truth, no doubt: but the truthfullest word may be infelix. So noting + a dark flush on Joan's cheek, I thought to end the scene by taking the + Cheap Jack's mirror on the spot, to stop his tongue, and then drawing her + away. + </p> + <p> + But in this I was a moment too late; for just as I reached up my hand with + the thirteen pence, and the grinning fellow on the platform bent forward + with his mirror, I heard a coarser jest, a rush in the crowd, and two + heads go <i>crack!</i> together like eggs. 'Twas two of Joan's tormentors + she had taken by the hair and served so: and dropping them the next + instant had caught the Cheap Jack's beard, as you might a bell rope, and + wrench'd him head-foremost off his stand, my thirteen pence flying far and + wide. Plump he fell into the crowd, that scatter'd on all hands as Joan + pummelled him: and <i>whack, whack!</i> fell the blows on the poor idiot's + face, who scream'd for mercy, as though Judgment Day were come. + </p> + <p> + No one, for the minute, dared to step between them: and presently Joan + looking up, with arm raised for another buffet, spied a poor Astrologer + close by, in a red and yellow gown, that had been reading fortunes in a + tub of black water beside him, but was now broken off, dismayed at the + hubbub. To this tub she dragged the Cheap Jack and sent him into it with a + round souse. The black water splashed right and left over the crowd. Then, + her wrath sated, Joan faced the rest, with hands on hips, and waited for + them to come on. + </p> + <p> + Not a word had she spoken, from first to last: but stood now with hot + cheeks and bosom heaving. Then, finding none to take up her challenge, she + strode out through the folk, and I after her, with the mirror in my hand; + while the Cheap Jack picked himself out of the tub, whining, and the + Astrologer wip'd his long white beard and soil'd robe. + </p> + <p> + Outside the throng was a carriage, stopp'd for a minute by this tumult, + and a servant at the horses' heads. By the look of it, 'twas the coach of + some person of quality; and glancing at it I saw inside an old gentleman + with a grave venerable face, seated. For the moment it flash'd on me I had + seen him before, somewhere: and cudgell'd my wits to think where it had + been. But a second and longer gaze assured me I was mistaken, and I went + on down the street after Joan. + </p> + <p> + She was walking fast and angry; nor when I caught her up and tried to + soothe, would she answer me but in the shortest words. Woman's justice, as + I had just learn'd, has this small defect—it goes straight enough, + but mainly for the wrong object. Which now I proved in my own case. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Joan?” + </p> + <p> + “To 'Fifteen Balls'' stable, for my horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Art not leaving the fair yet, surely!” + </p> + <p> + “That I be, tho'. Have had fairing enow—wi' a man!” + </p> + <p> + Nor for a great part of the way home would she speak to me. But meeting, + by Pound Scawens (a hamlet close to the road), with some friends going to + the fair, she stopp'd for a while to chat with them, whilst I rode + forward: and when she overtook me, her brow was clear again. + </p> + <p> + “Am a hot headed fool, Jack, and have spoil'd thy day for thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, that you have not,” said I, heartily glad to see her humble, for the + first time in our acquaintance: “but if you have forgiven me that which I + could not help, you shall take this that I bought for you, in proof.” + </p> + <p> + And pulling out the mirror, I lean'd over and handed it to her. + </p> + <p> + “What i' the world be this?” she ask'd, taking and looking at it + doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Why, a mirror.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “A glass to see your face in,” I explained. + </p> + <p> + “Be this my face?” She rode forward, holding up the glass in front of her. + “Why, what a handsome looking gal I be, to be sure! Jack, art certain 'tis + my very own face?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said I amazed. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” There was silence for a full minute, save for our horses' tread on + the high road. And then— + </p> + <p> + “Jack, I be powerful dirty!” + </p> + <p> + This was true enough, and it made me laugh. She looked up solemnly at my + mirth (having no sense of a joke, then or ever) and bent forward to the + glass again. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” said I, “did you mark a carriage just outside the crowd, by + the Cheap Jack's booth?—with a white-hair'd gentleman seated + inside?” + </p> + <p> + Joan nodded. “Master Hannibal Tingcomb: steward o' Gleys.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” + </p> + <p> + I jumped in my saddle, and with a pull at the bridle brought Molly to a + standstill. + </p> + <p> + “Of Gleys?” I cried. “Steward of Sir Deakin Killigrew that was?” + </p> + <p> + “Right, lad, except the last word. 'That <i>is</i>,' should'st rather + say.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are wrong, Joan: for he's dead and buried, these five months. + Where is this house of Gleys? for to-morrow I must ride there.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis easy found, then: for it stands on the south coast yonder, and no + house near it: five mile from anywhere, and sixteen from Temple, due + south. Shall want thee afore thou startest, Jack. Dear, now! who'd ha' + thought I was so dirty?” + </p> + <p> + The cottage door stood open as we rode into the yard, and from it a faint + smoke came curling, with a smell of peat. Within I found the smould'ring + turves scattered about as on the day of my first arrival, and among them + Joan's father stretch'd, flat on his face: only this time the eat was + curl'd up quietly, and lying between the old man's shoulder blades. + </p> + <p> + “Drunk again,” said Joan shortly. + </p> + <p> + But looking more narrowly, I marked a purplish stain on the ground by the + old man's mouth, and turned him softly over. + </p> + <p> + “Joan,” said I, “he's not drunk—he's dead!” + </p> + <p> + She stood above us and looked down, first at the corpse, then at me, + without speaking for a time: at last—- + </p> + <p> + “Then I reckon he may so well be buried.” + </p> + <p> + “Girl,” I call'd out, being shocked at this callousness, “'tis your father—and + he is dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Why that's so, lad. An he were alive, shouldn't trouble thee to bury 'n.” + </p> + <p> + And so, before night, we carried him up to the bleak tor side, and dug his + grave there; the black cat following us to look. Five feet deep we laid + him, having dug down to solid rock; and having covered him over, went + silently back to the hovel. Joan had not shed a single tear. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. — I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS. + </h2> + <p> + Very early next morning I awoke, and hearing no sound in the loft above + (whither, since my coming, Joan had carried her bed), concluded her to be + still asleep. But in this I was mistaken: for going to the well at the + back to wash, I found her there, studying her face in the mirror. + </p> + <p> + “Luckily met, Jack,” she said, when I was cleansed and freshly glowing: + “Now fill another bucket and sarve me the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannot you wash yourself?” I ask'd, as I did so. + </p> + <p> + “Lost the knack, I reckon. Stand thee so, an' slush the water over me.” + </p> + <p> + “But your clothes!” I cried out, “they'll be soaking wet!” + </p> + <p> + “Clothes won't be worse for a wash, neither. So slush away.” + </p> + <p> + Therefore, standing at three paces' distance, I sent a bucketful over her, + and then another and another. Six times I filled and emptied the bucket in + all: and at the end she was satisfied, and went, dripping, back to the + kitchen to get me my breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Art early abroad,” she said, as we sat together over the meal. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for I must ride to Gleys this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Shan't be sorry to miss thee for a while. Makes me feel so shy—this + cleanliness.” So, promising to be back by nightfall, I went presently to + saddle Molly: and following Joan's directions and her warnings against + quags and pitfalls, was soon riding south across the moor and well on my + road to the House of Gleys. + </p> + <p> + My way leading me by Braddock Down, I turned aside for a while to examine + the ground of the late fight (tho' by now little was to be seen but a + piece of earthwork left unfinish'd by the rebels, and the fresh mounds + where the dead were laid); and so 'twas high noon—and a dull, + cheerless day—before the hills broke and let me have sight of the + sea. Nor, till the noise of the surf was in my ears, did I mark the + chimneys and naked grey walls of the house I was bound for. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a gloomy, savage pile of granite, perch'd at the extremity of a + narrow neck of land, where every wind might sweep it, and the waves beat + on three sides the cliff below. The tide was now at the full, almost, and + the spray flying in my face, as we crossed the head of a small beach, + forded a stream, and scrambled up the rough road to the entrance gate. + </p> + <p> + A thin line of smoke blown level from one chimney was all the sign of life + in the building: for the narrow lights of the upper story were mostly + shuttered, and the lower floor was hid from me by a high wall enclosing a + courtlage in front. One stunted ash, with boughs tortured and bent toward + the mainland, stood by the gate, which was lock'd. A smaller door, also + lock'd, was let into the gate, and in this again a shuttered iron grating. + Hard by, dangled a rusty bell-pull, at which I tugg'd sturdily. + </p> + <p> + On this, a crack'd bell sounded, far in the house, and scared a flock of + starlings out of a disused chimney. Their cries died away presently, and + left no sound but that of the gulls wailing about the cliff at my feet. + This was all the answer I won. + </p> + <p> + I rang again, and a third time: and now at last came the sound of + footsteps shuffling across the court within. The shutter of the grating + was slipp'd back, and a voice, crack'd as the bell, asked my business. + </p> + <p> + “To see Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” answered I. — “Thy name?” + </p> + <p> + “He shall hear it in time. Say that I come on business concerning the + estate.” + </p> + <p> + The voice mutter'd something, and the footsteps went back. I had been + kicking my heels there for twenty minutes or more when they returned, and + the voice repeated the question—- + </p> + <p> + “Thy name?” + </p> + <p> + Being by this time angered, I did a foolish thing; which was, to clap the + muzzle of my pistol against the grating, close to the fellow's nose. + Singular to say, the trick serv'd me. A bolt was slipp'd hastily back and + the wicket door opened stealthily. + </p> + <p> + “I want,” said I, “room for my horse to pass.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon more grumbling follow'd, and a prodigious creaking of bolts and + chains; after which the big gate swung stiffly back. + </p> + <p> + “Sure, you must be worth a deal,” I said, “that shut yourselves in so + careful.” + </p> + <p> + Before me stood a strange fellow—extraordinary old and bent, with a + wizen'd face, one eye only, and a chin that almost touched his nose. He + wore a dirty suit of livery, that once had been canary-yellow; and shook + with the palsy. + </p> + <p> + “Master Tingcomb will see the young man,” he squeak'd, nodding his head; + “but is a-reading just now in his Bible.” + </p> + <p> + “A pretty habit,” answered I, leading in Molly—“if unseasonable. But + why not have said so?” + </p> + <p> + He seem'd to consider this for a while, and then said abruptly— + </p> + <p> + “Have some pasty and some good cider?” + </p> + <p> + “Why yes,” I said, “with all my heart, when I have stabled the sorrel + here.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way across the court, well paved but chok'd with weeds, toward + the stable. I found it a spacious building, and counted sixteen stalls + there; but all were empty save two, where stood the horses I had seen in + Bodmin the day before. Having stabled Molly, I left the place (which was + thick with cobwebs) and follow'd the old servant into the house. + </p> + <p> + He took me into a great stone kitchen, and brought out the pasty and + cider, but poured out half a glass only. + </p> + <p> + “Have a care, young man: 'tis a luscious, thick, seductive drink,” and he + chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “'Twould turn the edge of a knife,” said I, tasting it and looking at him: + but his one blear'd eye was inscrutable. The pasty also was mouldy, and I + soon laid it down. + </p> + <p> + “Hast a proud stomach that cometh of faring sumptuously: the beef therein + is our own killing,” said he. “Young sir, art a man of blood, I greatly + fear, by thy long sword and handiness with the firearms.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall be presently,” answered I, “if you lead me not to Master Tingcomb.” + </p> + <p> + He scrambled up briskly and totter'd out of the kitchen into a stone + corridor, I after him. Along this he hurried, muttering all the way, and + halted before a door at the end. Without knocking he pushed it open, and + motioning me to enter, hasten'd back as he had come. + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” said a voice that seem'd familiar to me. + </p> + <p> + Though, as you know, 'twas still high day, in the room where now I found + myself was every appearance of night: the shutters being closed, and six + lighted candles standing on the table. Behind them sat the venerable + gentleman whom I had seen in the coach, now wearing a plain suit of black, + and reading in a great book that lay open on the table. I guess'd it to be + the Bible; but noted that the candles had shades about them, so disposed + as to throw the light, not on the page, but on the doorway where I stood. + </p> + <p> + Yet the old gentleman, having bid me enter, went on reading for a while as + though wholly unaware of me: which I found somewhat nettling, so began—- + </p> + <p> + “I speak, I believe, to Master Hannibal Tingcomb, steward to Sir Deakin + Killigrew.” + </p> + <p> + He went on, as if ending his sentence aloud: “... And my darling from the + power of the dog.” Here he paused with finger on the place and looked up. + “Yes, young sir, that is my name—steward to the late Sir Deakin + Killigrew.” + </p> + <p> + “The late?” cried I: “Then you know—” + </p> + <p> + “Surely I know that Sir Deakin is dead: else should I be but an unworthy + steward.” He open'd his grave eyes as if in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “And his son, also?” + </p> + <p> + “Also his son Anthony, a headstrong boy, I fear me, a consorter with vile + characters. Alas? that I should say it.” + </p> + <p> + “And his daughter, Mistress Delia?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” and he fetched a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean, sir, that she too is dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to be sure-but let us talk on less painful matters.” + </p> + <p> + “In one moment, sir: but first tell me—where did she die, and when?” + </p> + <p> + For my heart stood still, and I was fain to clutch the table between us to + keep me from falling. I think this did not escape him, for he gave me a + sharp look, and then spoke very quiet and hush'd, + </p> + <p> + “She was cruelly kill'd by highwaymen, at the 'Three Cups' inn, some miles + out of Hungerford. The date given me is the 3d of December last.” + </p> + <p> + With this a great rush of joy came over me, and I blurted out, delighted— + </p> + <p> + “There, sir, you are wrong! Her father was kill'd on the night of which + you speak—cruelly enough, as you say: but Mistress Delia Killigrew + escaped, and after the most incredible adventures—” + </p> + <p> + I was expecting him to start up with joy at my announcement; but instead + of this, he gaz'd at me very sorrowfully and shook his head; which brought + me to a stand. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” I said, changing my tone, “I speak but what I know: for 'twas I had + the happy fortune to help her to escape, and, under God's hand, to bring + her safe to Cornwall.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, where is she now?” + </p> + <p> + Now this was just what I could not tell. So, standing before him, I gave + him my name and a history of all my adventures in my dear comrade's + company, from the hour when I saw her first in the inn at Hungerford. + Still keeping his finger on the page, he heard me to the end attentively, + but with a curling of the lips toward the close, such as I did not like. + And when I had done, to my amaze he spoke out sharply, and as if to a + whipp'd schoolboy. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis a cock-and-bull story, sir, of which I could hope to make you + ashamed. Six weeks in your company? and in boy's habit? Surely 'twas + enough the pure unhappy maid should be dead—without such vile + slander on her fame, and from you, that were known, sir, to have been at + that inn, and on that night, with her murderers. Boy, I have evidence + that, taken with your confession, would weave you a halter; and am a + Justice of the Peace. Be thankful, then, that I am a merciful man; yet be + abash'd.” + </p> + <p> + Abash'd, indeed, I was; or at least taken aback, to see his holy + indignation and the flush on his waxen cheek. Like a fool I stood + staggered, and wondered dimly where I had heard that thin voice before. In + the confusion of my senses I heard it say solemnly—- + </p> + <p> + “The sins of her fathers have overtaken her, as the Book of Exodus + proclaim'd: therefore is her inheritance wasted, and given to the satyr + and the wild ass.” + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: “What did you in Oxford last November?”—Page 219.} + </p> + <p> + “And which of the twain be you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + I cannot tell what forced this violent rudeness from me, for he seem'd an + honest, good man; but my heart was boiling that any should put so ill a + construction on my Delia. As for him, he had risen, and was moving with + dignity to the door—to show me out, as I guess. When suddenly I, + that had been staring stupidly, leap'd upon him and hurled him back into + his chair. + </p> + <p> + For I had marked his left foot trailing, and, by the token, knew him for + the white hair'd man of the bowling-green. + </p> + <p> + “Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” I spoke in his ear, “—dog and murderer! + What did you in Oxford last November? And how of Captain Lucius Higgs, + otherwise Captain Luke Settle, otherwise Mr. X.? Speak, before I serve you + as the dog was served that night!” + </p> + <p> + I dream yet, in my sick nights, of the change that came over the vile, + hypocritical knave at these words of mine. To see his pale venerable face + turn green and livid, his eyeball start, his hands clutch at air—it + frighten'd me. + </p> + <p> + “Brandy!” he gasped. “Brandy! there—quick—for God's sake!” + </p> + <p> + And the next moment he had slipp'd from my grasp, and was wallowing in a + fit on the floor. I ran to the cupboard at which he had pointed, and + finding there a bottle of strong waters, forced some drops between his + teeth; and hard work it was, he gnashing at me all the time and foaming at + the mouth. + </p> + <p> + Presently he ceased to writhe and bite: and lifting, I set him in his + chair, where he lay, a mere limp bundle, staring and blinking. So I sat + down facing him, and waited his recovery. + </p> + <p> + “Dear young sir,” he began at length feebly, his fingers searching the + Bible before him, from force of habit. “Kind young sir—I am an old, + dying man, and my sins have found me out. Only yesterday, the physician at + Bodmin told me that my days are numbered. This is the second attack, and + the third will kill me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said I. — “If—if Mistress Delia be alive (as indeed I + did not think), I will make restitution—I will confess—only + tell me what to do, that I may die in peace.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, he look'd pitiable, sitting there and stammering: but I harden'd + my heart to say—- + </p> + <p> + “I must have a confession, then, written before I leave the room.” + </p> + <p> + “But, dear young friend, you will not use it if I give up all? You will + not seek my life? that already is worthless, as you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, 'tis what you deserve. But Delia shall say when I find her—as + I shall go straight to seek her. If she be lost, I shall use it—never + fear: if she be found, it shall be hers to say what mercy she can discover + in her heart; but I promise you I shall advise none.” + </p> + <p> + The tears by this were coursing down his shrunken cheeks, but I observ'd + him watch me narrowly, as though to find out how much I knew. So I pull'd + out my pistol, and setting pen and paper before him, obtained at the end + of an hour a very pretty confession of his sins, which lies among my + papers to this day. When 'twas written and sign'd, in a weak, rambling + hand, I read it through, folded it, placed it inside my coat, and prepared + to take my leave. + </p> + <p> + But he called out an order to the old servant to saddle my mare, and stood + softly praying and beseeching me in the courtyard till the last moment. + Nor when I was mounted would anything serve but he must follow at my + stirrup to the gate. But when I had briefly taken leave, and the heavy + doors had creaked behind me, I heard a voice calling after me down the + road—- + </p> + <p> + “Dear young sir! Dear friend!—I had forgotten somewhat.” + </p> + <p> + Returning, I found the gate fastened, and the iron shutter slipp'd back. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” I asked, leaning toward it. + </p> + <p> + “Dear young friend, I pity thee, for thy paper is worthless. To-day, by my + advices, the army of our most Christian Parliament, more than twenty + thousand strong, under the Earl of Stamford, have overtaken thy friends, + the malignant gentry, near Stratton Heath, in the northeast. They are more + than two to one. By this hour to-morrow, the Papists all will be running + like conies to their burrows, and little chance wilt thou have to seek + Delia Killigrew, much less to find her. And remember, I know enough of thy + late services to hang thee: mercy then will lie in my friends' hands; but + be sure I shall advise none.” + </p> + <p> + And with a mocking laugh he clapp'd—to the grating in my face. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. — I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS. + </h2> + <p> + You may guess how I felt at being thus properly fooled. And the worst was + I could see no way to mend it; for against the barricade between us I + might have beat myself for hours, yet only hurt my fists: and the wall was + so smooth and high, that even by standing on Molly's back I could not—by + a foot or more—reach the top to pull myself over. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing for it but to turn homewards, down the hill: which I + did, chewing the cud of my folly, and finding it bitter as gall. What + consoled me somewhat was the reflection that his threats were, likely + enough, mere vaporing: for of any breach of the late compact between the + parties I had heard nothing, and never seem'd a country more wholly given + up to peace than that through which I had ridden in the morning. So + recalling Master Tingcomb's late face of terror, and the confession in my + pocket, I felt more cheerful. “England has grown a strange place, if I + cannot get justice on this villain,” thought I; and rode forward, planning + a return-match and a sweet revenge. + </p> + <p> + There is no more soothing game, I believe, in the world than this of + holding imaginary triumphant discourse with your enemy. Yet (oddly) it + brought me but cold comfort on this occasion, my wound being too recent + and galling. The sky, so long clouded, was bright'ning now, and growing + serener every minute: the hills were thick with fox-gloves, the vales + white with hawthorn, smelling very sweetly in the cool of the day: but I, + with the bridle flung on Molly's neck, pass'd them by, thinking only of my + discomfiture, and barely rousing myself to give back a “Good-day” to those + that met me on the road. Nor, till we were on the downs and Joan's cottage + came in sight, did I shake the brooding off. + </p> + <p> + Joan was not in the kitchen when I arrived, nor about the buildings; nor + yet could I spy her anywhere moving on the hills. So, after calling to her + once or twice, I stabled the mare, and set off up the tor side to seek + her. + </p> + <p> + Now I must tell you that since the day of my coming I had made many + attempts to find the place where Joan had then hidden me, and always + fruitlessly: though I knew well whereabouts it must be. Indeed, I had + thought at first I had only to walk straight to the hole: yet found after + repeated trials but solid earth and boulders for my pains. + </p> + <p> + But to-day as I climb'd past the spot, something very bright flashed in my + eyes and dazzled me, and rubbing them and looking, I saw a great hole in + the hill—facing to the sou'-west—in the very place I had + search'd for it; and out of this a beam of light glancing. + </p> + <p> + Creeping near on tiptoe, I found one huge block of granite that before had + seemed bedded, among a dozen fellow-boulders, against the turf—the + base resting on another well-nigh as big—was now rolled back; having + been fixed to work smoothly on a pivot, yet so like nature that no eye, + but by chance, could detect it. Now, who in the beginning designed this + hiding place I leave you to consider; and whether it was the Jews or + Phoenicians—nations, I am told, that once work'd the hills around + for tin. But inside 'twas curiously paved and lined with slabs of granite, + the specks of ore in which, I noted, were the points of light that had + once puzzled me. And here was Joan's bower, and Joan herself inside it. + </p> + <p> + She was sitting with her back to me, in her left hand holding up the + mirror, that caught the rays of the now sinking sun (and thus had dazzled + me), while with her right she tried to twist into some form of knot her + tresses—black, and coarse as a horse's mane—that already she + had roughly braided. A pail of water stood beside her; and around lay + scatter'd a score or more of long thorns, cut to the shape of hair pins. + </p> + <p> + 'Tis probable that after a minute's watching I let some laughter escape + me. At any rate Joan turned, spied me, and scrambled up, with an angry red + on her cheek. Then I saw that her bodice was neater lac'd than usual, and + a bow of yellow ribbon (fish'd up heaven knows whence) stuck in the bosom. + But the strangest thing was to note the effect of this new tidiness upon + her: for she took a step forward as if to cuff me by the ear (as, a day + agone, she would have done), and then stopp'd, very shy and hesitating. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Joan,” said I, “don't be anger'd. It suits you choicely—it + does indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Art scoffing, I doubt.” She stood looking heavily and askance at me. + </p> + <p> + “On my faith, no: and what a rare tiring-bower the Jew's Kitchen makes! + Come, Joan, be debonair and talk to me, for I am out of luck to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgit it, then” (and she pointed to the sun), “whiles yet some o't is + left. Tell me a tale, an thou'rt minded.” + </p> + <p> + “Of what?” + </p> + <p> + “O' the bloodiest battle thou'st ever heard tell on.” + </p> + <p> + So, sitting by the mouth of the Jew's Kitchen, I told her as much as I + could remember out of Homer's Iliad, wondering the while what my tutor, + Mr. Josias How, of Trinity College, would think to hear me so use his + teaching. By-and-bye, as I warm'd to the tale, Joan forgot her new + smartness; and at length, when Hector was running from Achilles round the + walls, clapp'd her hands for excitement, crying, “Church an' King, lad! + Oh, brave work!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” answered I, “'twas not for that they were fighting;” and + looking at her, broke off with, “Joan, art certainly a handsome girl: give + me a kiss for the mirror.” + </p> + <p> + Instead of flying out, as I look'd for, she fac'd round, and answered me + gravely—- + </p> + <p> + “That I will not: not to any but my master.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is that?” + </p> + <p> + “No man yet; nor shall be till one has beat me sore: him will I love, an' + follow like a dog—if so be he whack me often enow'.” + </p> + <p> + “A strange way to love,” laughed I. — She look'd at me straight, + albeit with an odd gloomy light in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Think so, Jack? then I give thee leave to try.” + </p> + <p> + I think there is always a brutality lurking in a man to leap out unawares. + Yet why do I seek excuses, that have never yet found one? To be plain, I + sprang fiercely up and after Joan, who had already started, and was racing + along the slope. + </p> + <p> + Twice around the tor she led me: and though I strain'd my best, not a yard + could I gain upon her, for her bare feet carried her light and free. + Indeed, I was losing ground, when coming to the Jew's Kitchen a second + time, she tried to slip inside and shut the stone in my face. + </p> + <p> + Then should I have been prettily bemock'd, had I not, with a great effort, + contrived to thrust my boot against the door just as it was closing. + Wrenching it open, I laid hand on her shoulder; and in a moment she had + gripp'd me, and was wrestling like a wild-cat. + </p> + <p> + Now being Cumberland-bred I knew only the wrestling of my own county, and + nothing of the Cornish style. For in the north they stand well apart, and + try to wear down one another's strength: whereas the Cornish is a brisker + lighter play—and (as I must confess) prettier to watch. So when Joan + rush'd in and closed with me, I was within an ace of being thrown, pat. + </p> + <p> + But recovering, I got her at arm's length, and held her so, while my heart + ach'd to see my fingers gripping her shoulders and sinking into the flesh. + I begg'd off; but she only fought and panted, and struggled to lock me by + the ankles again. I could not have dream'd to find such fierce strength in + a girl. Once or twice she nearly overmastered me: but at length my + stubborn play wore her out. Her breath came short and fast, then fainter: + and in the end, still holding her off, I turned her by the shoulders, and + let her drop quietly on the turf. No thought had I any longer of kissing + her; but stood back, heartily sick and ashamed of myself. + </p> + <p> + For awhile she lay, turn'd over on her side, with hands guarding her head, + as if expecting me to strike her. Then gathering herself up, she came and + put her hand in mine, very meekly. + </p> + <p> + “Had lik'd it better had'st thou stamped the life out o' me, a'most. But + there, lad—am thine forever!” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas like a buffet in the face to me. “What!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + She look'd up in my face—dear Heaven, that I should have to write + it!—with eyes brimful, sick with love; tried to speak, but could + only nod: and broke into a wild fit of tears. + </p> + <p> + I was standing there with her hand in mine, and a burning remorse in my + heart, when I heard the clear notes of a bugle blown, away on the road to + Launceston. + </p> + <p> + Looking that way, I saw a great company of horse coming down over the + crest, the sun shining level on their arms and a green standard that they + bore in their midst. + </p> + <p> + Joan spied them the same instant, and check'd her sobs. Without a word we + flung ourselves down full length on the turf to watch. + </p> + <p> + They were more than a thousand, as I guess'd, and came winding down the + road very orderly, till, being full of them, it seem'd a long serpent + writhing with shiny scales. The tramp of hoofs and jingling of bits were + pretty to hear. + </p> + <p> + “Rebels!” whisper'd I. — Joan nodded. + </p> + <p> + There were three regiments in all, whereof the first (and biggest) was of + dragoons. So clear was the air, I could almost read the legend on their + standard, and the calls of their captains were borne up to us extremely + distinct. + </p> + <p> + As they rode leisurely past, I thought of Master Tingcomb's threat, and + wonder'd what this array could intend. Nor, turning it over, could I find + any explanation: for the Earl of Stamford's gathering, he had said, was in + the northeast, and I knew such troops as the Cornish generals had to be + quarter'd at Launceston. Yet here, on the near side of Launceston, was a + large body of rebel horse marching quietly to the sou'-west. Where was the + head or tail to it? + </p> + <p> + Turning my head as the last rider disappear'd on the way to Bodmin, I + spied a squat oddly shap'd man striding down the hill very briskly: yet he + look'd about him often and kept to the hollows of the ground; and was + crossing below us, as it appeared, straight for Joan's cottage. + </p> + <p> + Cried I: “There is but one man in the world with such a gait—and + that's Billy Pottery!” + </p> + <p> + And jumping to my feet (for he was come directly beneath us) I caught up a + great stone and sent it bowling down the slope. + </p> + <p> + Bounce it went past him, missing his legs by a foot or less. The man + turn'd, and catching sight of me as I stood waving, made his way up the + hill. 'Twas indeed Captain Bilty: and coming up, the honest fellow almost + hugg'd me for joy. + </p> + <p> + “Was seeking thee, Jack,” he bawled: “learn'd from Sir Bevill where belike + I might find thee. Left his lodging at Launceston this mornin', and + trudged ivery foot o' the way. A thirsty land, Jack—neither horse's + meat nor man's meat therein, nor a chair to sit down on: an' three women + only have I kiss'd this day!” He broke off and look'd at Joan. “Beggin' + the lady's pardon for sea manners and way o' speech.” + </p> + <p> + “Joan,” said I, “this is Billy Pottery, a good mariner and friend of mine: + and as deaf as a haddock.” + </p> + <p> + Billy made a leg; and as I pointed to the road where the cavalry had just + disappeared, went on with a nod—- + </p> + <p> + “That's so: old Sir G'arge Chudleigh's troop o' horse sent off to Bodmin + to seize the High Sheriff and his <i>posse</i> there. Two hour agone I + spied 'em, and ha' been ever since playin' spy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then where be the King's forces?” I made shift to enquire by signs. + </p> + <p> + “March'd out o' Launceston to-day, lad—an' but a biscuit a man + between 'em, poor dears—for Stratton Heath, i' the nor'-east, where + the rebels be encamp'd. Heard by scouts o' these gentry bein' sent to + Bodmin, and were minded to fight th' Earl o' Stamford whiles his + dragooners was away. An' here's the long an' short o't: thou'rt wanted, + lad, to bear a hand wi' us up yonder—an the good lady here can spare + thee.” + </p> + <p> + And here we both look'd at Joan—I shamefacedly enough, and Billy + with a puzzled air, which he tried very delicately to hide. + </p> + <p> + She put her hand in mine. + </p> + <p> + “To fight, lad?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded my head. + </p> + <p> + “Then go,” she said without a shade in her voice; and as I made no answer, + went on—“Shall a woman hinder when there's fightin' toward? Only + come back when thy wars be over, for I shall miss thee, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + And dropping my hand she led the way down to the cottage. + </p> + <p> + Now Billy, of course, had not heard a word of this: but perhaps he + gathered some import. Any way, he pull'd up short midway on the slope, + scratched his head, and thunder'd—- + </p> + <p> + “What a good lass!” + </p> + <p> + Joan, some paces ahead, turn'd at this and smil'd: whereat, having no idea + he'd spoken above a whisper, Billy blush'd red as any peony. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas but a short half hour when, the mare being saddled and Billy fed, we + took our leave of Joan. Billy walked beside one stirrup, and the girl on + the other side, to see us a few yards on our way. At length she halted—- + </p> + <p> + “No leave-takin's, Jack, but 'Church and King!' Only do thy best and not + disgrace me.” + </p> + <p> + And “Church and King!” she call'd thrice after us, standing in the road. + For me, as I rode up out of that valley, the drums seem'd beating and the + bugles calling to a new life ahead. The last light of day was on the tors, + the air blowing fresher as we mounted: and with Molly's every step the + past five months appear'd to dissolve and fall away from me as a dream. + </p> + <p> + On the crest, I turn'd in the saddle. Joan was yet standing there, a black + speck on the road. She waved her hand once. + </p> + <p> + Billy had turn'd too, and, uncovering, shouted so that the hilltops + echoed. + </p> + <p> + “A good lass—a good lass! But what's become o' t'other one?” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. — THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH. + </h2> + <p> + Night came, and found us but midway between Temple and Lannceston: for + tho' my comrade stepp'd briskly beside me, 'twas useless to put Molly + beyond a walk; and besides, the mare was new from her day's journey. This + troubled me the less by reason of the moon (now almost at the full), and + the extreme whiteness of the road underfoot, so that there was no fear of + going astray. And Billy engaged that by sunrise we should be in sight of + the King's troops. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Jack,” he said, when by signs I offered him to ride and tie: “never + rode o' horseback but once, and then 'pon Parson Spinks his red mare at + Bideford. Parson i' those days was courtin' the Widow Hambly, over to + Torrington: an' I, that wanted to fare to Barnstaple, spent that mornin' + an' better part o' th' afternoon, clawin' off Torrington. And th' end was + the larboard halyards broke, an' the mare gybed, an' to Torrington I went + before the wind, wi' an unseemly bloody nose. 'Lud!' cries the widow, + ''tis the wrong man 'pon the right horse!' 'Pardon, mistress,' says I, + 'the man is well enow, but 'pon the wrong horse, for sure.'” + </p> + <p> + Now and then, as we went, I would dismount and lead Molly by the bridle + for a mile or so: and all the way to Launceston Billy was recounting his + adventures since our parting. It appeared that, after leaving me, they had + come to Plymouth with a fair passage: but before they could unlade, had + advertisement of the Governor's design to seize all vessels then riding in + the Sound, for purposes of war; and so made a quick escape by night into + Looe Haven, where they had the fortune to part with the best part of their + cargo at a high profit. 'Twas while unlading here that Billy had a mind to + pay a debt he ow'd to a cousin of his at Altarnun, and, leaving Matt + Soames in charge, had tramped northward through Liskeard to Launceston, + where he found the Cornish forces, and was met by the news of the Earl of + Stamford's advance in the northeast. Further, meeting, in Sir Bevill's + troop, with some north coast men of his acquaintance, he fell to talking, + and so learn'd about me and my ride toward Braddock, which (it seem'd) was + now become common knowledge. This led him to seek Sir Bevill, with the + result that you know: “for,” as he wound up, “'tis a desirable an' rare + delight to pay a debt an' see some fun, together.” + </p> + <p> + We had some trouble at Launceston gate, where were a few burghers posted + for sentries, and, as I could see, ready to take fright at their own + shadows. But Billy gave the watchword (“One and All”), and presently they + let us through. As we pass'd along the street we marked a light in every + window almost, tho' 'twas near midnight; and the people moving about + behind their curtains. There were groups too in the dark doorways, + gather'd there discussing, that eyed us as we went by, and answered + Billy's <i>Good-night, honest men!</i> very hoarse and doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + But when we were beyond the town, and between hedges again, I think I must + have dozed off in my saddle. For, though this was a road full of sharp + memories, being the last I had traveled with Delia, I have no remembrance + to have felt them; or, indeed, of noting aught but the fresh night air, + and the constellation of the Bear blazing ahead, and Billy's voice + resonant beside me. + </p> + <p> + And after this I can recall passing the tower of Marham Church, with the + paling sky behind it, and some birds chattering in the carved courses: and + soon (it seem'd) felt Billy's grip on my knee, and open'd my eyes to see + his finger pointing. + </p> + <p> + We stood on a ridge above a hollow vale into which the sun, though now + bright, did not yet pierce, but passing over to a high, conical hill + beyond, smote level on line after line of white tents—the prettiest + sight! 'Twas the enemy there encamped on the top and some way down the + sides, the smoke of their trampled watch fires still curling among the + gorsebushes. I heard their trumpets calling and drums beating to arms; for + though, glancing back at the sun, I judged it to be hardly past four in + the morning, yet already the slopes were moving like an ant-hill—the + regiments gathering, arms flashing, horsemen galloping to and fro, and the + captains shouting their commands. In the distance this had a sweet and + cheerful sound, no more disquieting than a ploughboy calling to his team. + </p> + <p> + Looking down into the valley at our feet, at first I saw no sign of our + own troops—only the roofs of a little town, with overmuch smoke + spread above it, like a morning mist. But here also I heard the church + bells clashing and a drum beating, and presently spied a gleam of arms + down among the trees, and then a regiment of foot moving westward along + the base of the hill. 'Twas evident the battle was at hand, and we + quicken'd our pace down into the street. + </p> + <p> + It lay on the slope, and midway down we pass'd some watch fires burn'd + out; and then a soldier or two running and fastening their straps; and + last a little child, that seem'd wild with the joy of living amid great + events, but led us pretty straight to the sign of “The Tree,” which indeed + was the only tavern. + </p> + <p> + It stood some way back from the street, with a great elm before the porch: + where by a table sat two men, with tankards beside them, and a small + company of grooms and soldiers standing round. Both men were more than + ordinary tall and soldier like: only the bigger wore a scarlet cloak very + richly lac'd, and was shouting orders to his men; while the other, dress'd + in plain buff suit and jack boots, had a map spread before him, which he + studied very attentively, writing therein with a quill pen. + </p> + <p> + “What a plague have we here?” cries the big man, as we drew up. + </p> + <p> + “Recruits if it please you, sir,” said I, dismounting and pulling off my + hat, tho' his insolent tone offended me. + </p> + <p> + “S'lid! The boy speaks as if he were a regiment,” growls he, half aloud: + “Can'st fight?” + </p> + <p> + “That, with your leave, sir, is what I am come to try.” + </p> + <p> + “And this rascal?” He turned on Billy. + </p> + <p> + Billy heard not a word, of course, yet answered readily— + </p> + <p> + “Why, since your honor is so pleasantly minded—let it be cider.” + </p> + <p> + Now the first effect of this, deliver'd with all force of lung, was to + make the big man sit bolt upright and staring: recovering speech, however, + he broke into a volley of blasphemous curses. + </p> + <p> + All this while the man in buff had scarce lifted his eyes off the map. But + now he looks up—and I saw at the first glance that the two men hated + each other. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said he quietly, “my Lord Mohun has forgot to ask the <i>gentleman's</i> + name.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Marvel, sir—John Marvel.” I answer'd him with a bow. + </p> + <p> + “Hey!”—and dropping his pen he starts up and grasps my hand—“Then + 'tis you I have never thanked for His Gracious Majesty's letter.” + </p> + <p> + “The General Hopton?” cried I. — “Even so, sir. My lord,” he went + on, still holding my hand and turning to his companion, “let me present to + you the gentleman that in January sav'd your house of Bocconnoc from + burning at the hands of the rebels—whom God confound this day!” He + lifted his hat. + </p> + <p> + “Amen,” said I, as his lordship bowed, exceedingly sulky. But I did not + value his rage, being hot with joy to be so beprais'd by the first captain + (as I yet hold) on the royal side. Who now, not without a sly triumph, + flung the price of Billy's cider on the table and, folding up his map, + address'd me again— + </p> + <p> + “Master Marvel, the fight to-day will lie but little with the horse—or + so I hope. You will do well, if your wish be to serve us best, to leave + your mare behind. The troop which my Lord Mohun and I command together is + below. But Sir Bevill Grenville, who has seen and is interested in you, + has the first claim: and I would not deny you the delight to fight your + first battle under so good a master. His men are, with Sir John Berkeley's + troop, a little to the westward: and if you are ready I will go some + distance with you, and put you in the way to find him. My lord, may we + look for you presently?” + </p> + <p> + The Lord Mohun nodded, surly enough: so, Billy's cider being now drunk and + Molly given over to an ostler, we set out down the hill together, Billy + shouldering a pipe and walking after with the groom that led Sir Ralph's + horse. Be sure the General's courtly manner of speech set my blood + tingling. I seem'd to grow a full two inches taller; and when, in the + vale, we parted, he directing me to the left, where through a gap I could + see Sir Bevill's troop forming at some five hundred paces' distance, I + felt a very desperate warrior indeed; and set off at a run, with Billy + behind me. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas an open space we had to cross, dotted with gorsebushes; and the + enemy's regiments, plain to see, drawn up in battalia on the slope above, + which here was gentler than to the south and west. But hardly had we gone + ten yards than I saw a puff of white smoke above, then another, and then + the summit ring'd with flame; and heard the noise of it roaring in the + hills around. At the first sound I pull'd up, and then began running again + at full speed: for I saw our division already in motion, and advancing up + the hill at a quick pace. + </p> + <p> + The curve of the slope hid all but the nearest: but above them I saw a + steep earthwork, and thereon three or four brass pieces of ordnance + glittering whenever the smoke lifted. For here the artillery was plying + the briskest, pouring down volley on volley; and four regiments at least + stood mass'd behind, ready to fall on the Cornish-men; who, answering with + a small discharge of musketry, now ran forward more nimbly. + </p> + <p> + To catch up with them, I must now turn my course obliquely up the hill, + where running was pretty toilsome. We were panting along when suddenly a + shower of sand and earth was dash'd in my face, spattering me all over. + Half-blinded, I look'd and saw a great round shot had ploughed a trench in + the ground at my feet, and lay there buried. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment, Billy, who was running at my shoulder, plumps down on + his knees and begins to whine and moan most pitiably. + </p> + <p> + “Art hurt, dear fellow?” asked I, turning. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack, Jack—I have no stomach for this! A cool, wet death at sea + I do not fear; only to have the great hot shot burning in a man's belly—'tis + terrifying. I <i>hate</i> a swift death! Jack, I be a sinner—I will + confess: I lied to thee yesterday—never kiss'd the three maids I + spoke of—never kiss'd but one i' my life, an' her a tap-wench, that + slapp'd my face for 't, an' so don't properly count. I be a very boastful + man!” + </p> + <p> + Now I myself had felt somewhat cold inside when the guns began roaring: + but this set me right in a trice. I whipp'd a pistol out of my sash and + put the cold ring to his ear: and he scrambled up; and was a very lion all + the rest of the day. + </p> + <p> + But now we had again to change our course, for to my dismay I saw a line + of sharpshooters moving down among the gorsebushes, to take the Cornishmen + in flank. And 'twas lucky we had but a little way further to go; for these + skirmishers, thinking perhaps from my dress and our running thus that we + bore some message open'd fire on us: and tho' they were bad marksmen, + 'twas ugly to see their bullets pattering into the turf, to right and + left. + </p> + <p> + We caught up the very last line of the ascending troop—lean, hungry + looking men, with wan faces, but shouting lustily. I think they were about + three hundred in all. “Come on, lad,” called out a bearded fellow with a + bandage over one eye, making room for me at his side; “there's work for + plenty more!”—and a minute after, a shot took him in the ribs, and + he scream'd out “Oh, my God!” and flinging up his arms, leap'd a foot in + air and fell on his face. + </p> + <p> + Pressing up, I noted that the first line was now at the foot of the + earthwork; and, in a minute, saw their steel caps and crimson sashes + swarming up the face of it, and their pikes shining. But now came a shock, + and the fellow in front was thrust back into my arms. I reeled down a pace + or two and then, finding foothold, stood pushing. And next, the whole body + came tumbling back on me, and down the hill we went flying, with oaths and + cries. Three of the rebel regiments had been flung on us and by sheer + weight bore us before them. At the same time the sharpshooters pour'd in a + volley: and I began to see how a man may go through a battle, and be beat, + without striking a blow. + </p> + <p> + But in the midst of this scurry I heard the sound of cheering. 'Twas Sir + John Berkeley's troop (till now posted under cover of the hedges below) + that had come to our support; and the rebels, fearing to advance too far, + must have withdrawn again behind their earthwork, for after a while the + pressure eas'd a bit, and, to my amaze, the troop which but a minute since + was a mere huddled crowd, formed in some order afresh, and once more began + to climb. This time, I had a thick-set pikeman in front of me, with a big + wen at the back of his neck that seem'd to fix all my attention. And up we + went, I counting the beat of my heart that was already going hard and + short with the work; and then, amid the rattle and thunder of their guns, + we stopp'd again. + </p> + <p> + I had taken no notice of it, but in the confusion of the first repulse the + greater part of our men had been thrust past me, so that now I found + myself no further back than the fourth rank, and at the very foot of the + earthwork, up the which our leaders were flung like a wave; and soon I was + scrambling after them, ankle deep in the sandy earth, the man with the wen + just ahead, grinding my instep with his heel and poking his pike staff + between my knees as he slipp'd. + </p> + <p> + And just at the moment when the top of our wave was cleaving a small + breach above us, he fell on the flat of his pike, with his nose buried in + the gravel and his hands clutching. Looking up I saw a tall rebel + straddling above him with musket clubb'd to beat his brains out: whom with + an effort I caught by the boot; and, the bank slipping at that instant, + down we all slid in a heap, a jumble of arms and legs, to the very bottom. + </p> + <p> + Before I had the sand well out of my eyes, my comrade was up and had his + pike loose; and in a twinkling, the rebel was spitted through the middle + and writhing. 'Twas sickening: but before I could pull out my pistol and + end his pain (as I was minded), back came our front rank a-top of us + again, and down they were driven like sheep, my companion catching up the + dead man's musket and ammunition bag, and I followed down the slope with + three stout rebels at my heels. “What will be the end of <i>this?</i>” + thought I. — The end was, that after forty yards or so, finding the + foremost close upon me, I turn'd about and let fly with my pistol at him. + He spun round twice and dropp'd: which I was wondering at (the pistol + being but a poor weapon for aim) when I was caught by the arm and pull'd + behind a clump of bushes handy by. 'Twas the man with the wen, and by his + smoking musket I knew that 'twas he had fired the shot that killed my + pursuer. + </p> + <p> + “Good turn for good turn,” says he: “quick with thy other pistol!” + </p> + <p> + The other two had stopped doubtfully, but at the next discharge of my + pistol they turn'd tail and went up the hill again, and we were left + alone. And suddenly I grew aware that my head was aching fit to split, and + lay down on the turf, very sick and ill. + </p> + <p> + My comrade took no notice of this, but, going for the dead man's musket, + kept loading and firing, pausing now and then for his artillery to cool, + and whistling a tune that runs in my head to this day. And all the time I + heard shouts and cries and the noise of musketry all around, which made me + judge that the attack was going on in many places at once. When I came to + myself 'twas to hear a bugle below calling again to the charge, and once + more came the two troops ascending. At their head was a slight built man, + bare-headed, with the sun (that was by this, high over the hill) smiting + on his brown curls, and the wind blowing them. He carried a naked sword in + his hand, and waved his men forward as cheerfully as though 'twere a dance + and he leading out his partner. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that yonder?” asked I, sitting up and pointing. + </p> + <p> + “Bless thy innocent heart!” said my comrade, “dostn't thee know? Tis Sir + Bevill.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 'Twould be tedious to tell the whole of this long fight, which, beginning + soon after sunrise, ended not till four in the afternoon, or thereabouts: + and indeed of the whole my recollection is but of continual advance and + repulse on that same slope. And herein may be seen the wisdom of our + generals, in attacking while the main body of the enemy's horse was away: + for had the Earl of Stamford possessed a sufficient force of dragoons to + let slip on us at the first discomfiture, there is little doubt he might + have ended the battle there and then. As it was, the horse stood out of + the fray, theirs upon the summit of the hill, ours (under Col. John Digby) + on the other slope, to protect the town and act as reserve. + </p> + <p> + The foot, in four parties, was disposed about the hill on all sides; to + the west—as we know—under Sir John Berkeley and Sir Bevill + Grenville; to the south under General Hopton and Lord Mohun; to the east + under the Colonels Tom Basset and William Godolphin; while the steep side + to the north was stormed by Sir Nicholas Slanning and Colonel Godolphin, + with their companies. And as we had but eight small pieces of cannon and + were in numbers less than one to two, all we had to do was to march up the + hill in face of their fire, catch a knock on the head, may be, grin, and + come on again. + </p> + <p> + But at three o'clock, we, having been for the sixth time beaten back, were + panting under cover of a hedge, and Sir John Berkeley, near by, was + writing on a drumhead some message to the camp, when there comes a young + man on horseback, his face smear'd with dirt and dust, and rides up to him + and Sir Bevill. 'Twas (I have since learn'd) to say that the powder was + all spent but a barrel or two: but this only the captains knew at the + time. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” cries Sir Bevill, leaping up gaily. “Come along, boys—we + must do it this time.” And, the troop forming, once more the trumpets + sounded the charge, and up we went. Away along the slope we heard the + other trumpeters sounding in answer, and I believe 'twas a <i>sursum + corda!</i> to all of us. + </p> + <p> + Billy Pottery was ranged on my right, in the first rank, and next to me, + on the other side, a giant, near seven foot high, who said his name was + Anthony Payne and his business to act as body-servant to Sir Bevill. And + he it was that struck up a mighty curious song in the Cornish tongue, + which the rest took up with a will. Twas incredible how it put fire into + them all: and Sir Bevill toss'd his hat into the air, and after him like + schoolboys we pelted, straight for the masses ahead. + </p> + <p> + For now over the rampart came a company of red musketeers, and two of + russet-clad pikemen, charging down on us. A moment, and we were crushed + back: another, and the chant rose again. We were grappling, hand to hand, + in the midst of their files. + </p> + <p> + But, good lack! What use is swordsmanship in a charge like this? The first + red coat that encounter'd me I had spitted through the lung, and, carried + on by the rush, he twirled me round like a windmill. In an instant I was + pass'd; the giant stepping before me and clearing a space about him, using + his pike as if 'twere a flail. With a wrench I tugg'd my sword out and + followed. I saw Sir Bevill, a little to the left, beaten to his knee, and + carried toward me. Stretching out a hand I pull'd him on his feet again, + catching, as I did so, a crack on the skull that would have ended me, had + not Billy Pottery put up his pike and broke the force of it. Next, I + remember gripping another red coat by the beard and thrusting at him with + shortened blade. Then the giant ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought + to rally round it; and with that I seem'd caught off my feet and swept + forward:—and we were on the crest. + </p> + <p> + Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man's breath + off a pane. And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across to where, on + the north side, a white standard embroider'd with gold griffins was + mounting. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis dear Nick Slanning!” he cried; “God be prais'd—the day is ours + for certain!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. — I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN + LIGHT. + </h2> + <p> + The rest of this signal victory (in which 1,700 prisoners were taken, + besides the Major-General Chudleigh; and all the rebels' camp, cannon and + victuals) I leave historians to tell. For very soon after the rout was + assured (the plain below full of men screaming and running, and Col. John + Digby's dragoons after them, chasing, cutting, and killing), a wet muzzle + was thrust into my hand, and turning, I found Molly behind me, with the + groom to whom I had given her in the morning. The rogue had counted on a + crown for his readiness, and swore the mare was ready for anything, he + having mix'd half a pint of strong ale with her mash, not half an hour + before. + </p> + <p> + So I determin'd to see the end of it, and paying the fellow, climb'd into + the saddle. On the summit the Cornish captains were now met, and cordially + embracing. 'Tis very sad in these latter times to call back their shouts + and boyish laughter, so soon to be quench'd on Lansdowne slopes, or by + Bristol graff. Yet, O favor'd ones!—to chase Victory, to grasp her + flutt'ring skirt, and so, with warm, panting cheeks, kissing her, to fall, + escaping evil days! + </p> + <p> + How could they laugh? For me, the late passionate struggle left me shaken + with sobs; and for the starting tears I saw neither moors around, nor sun, + nor twinkling sea. Brushing them away, I was aware of Billy Pottery + striding at my stirrup, and munching at a biscuit he had found in the + rebels' camp. Said he, “In season, Jack, is in reason. There be times to + sing an' to dance, to marry and to give in marriage; an' likewise times to + become as wax: but now, lookin' about an' seein' no haughty slaughterin' + cannon but has a Cornishman seated 'pon the touch-hole of the same, says I + in my thoughtsome way, 'Forbear!'” + </p> + <p> + Presently he pulls up before a rebel trooper, that was writhing on the + slope with a shatter'd thigh, yet raised himself on his fists to gaze on + us with wide, painful eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Good sirs,” gasp'd out the rebel, “can you tell me—where be Nat + Shipward?” + </p> + <p> + “Now how should I know?” I answer'd. + </p> + <p> + “'A had nutty-brown curls, an' wore a red jacket—Oh, as straight a + young man as ever pitched hay! 'a sarved in General Chudleigh's troop—a + very singular straight young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Death has taken a many such,” said I, and thought on the man I had run + through in our last charge. + </p> + <p> + The fellow groaned. “'A was my son,” he said: and though Billy pull'd out + a biscuit (his pockets bulged with them) and laid it beside him, he turn'd + from it, and sank back on the turf again. + </p> + <p> + We left him, and now, the descent being gentler, broke into a run, in + hopes to catch up with Col. John Digby's dragoons, that already were far + across the next vale. The slope around us was piled with dead and dying, + whereof four out of every five were rebels; and cruelly they cursed us as + we passed them by. Night was coming on apace; and here already we were in + deep shadow, but could see the yellow sun on the hills beyond. We crossed + a stream at the foot, and were climbing again. Behind us the cheering yet + continued, though fainter: and fainter grew the cries and shouting in + front. Soon we turn'd into a lane over a steep hedge, under the which two + or three stout rebels were cowering. As we came tumbling almost atop of + them, they ran yelling: and we let them go in peace. + </p> + <p> + The lane gradually led us to westward, out of the main line of the rout, + and past a hamlet where every door was shut and all silent. And at last a + slice of the sea fronted us, between two steeply shelving hills. On the + crest of the road, before it plunged down toward the coast, was a wagon + lying against the hedge, with the horses gone: and beside it, stretch'd + across the road, an old woman. Stopping, we found her dead, with a + sword-thrust through the left breast; and inside the wagon a young man + lying, with his jaw bound up,—dead also. And how this sad spectacle + happened here, so far from the battlefield, was more than we could guess. + </p> + <p> + I was moving away, when Billy, that was kneeling in the road, chanced to + cast his eyes up toward the sea, and dropping the dead woman's hand + scrambled on his feet and stood looking, with a puzzled face. + </p> + <p> + Following his gaze, I saw a small sloop moving under shorten'd canvas, + about two miles from the land. She made a pleasant sight, with the last + rays of sunlight flaming on her sails: but for Billy's perturbation I + could not account, so turn'd an enquiring glance to him. + </p> + <p> + “Suthin' i' the wind out yonder,” was his answer: “What's a sloop doing on + that ratch so close in by the point? Be dang'd! but there she goes again;”—as + the little vessel swung off a point or two further from the breeze, that + was breathing softly up Channel. “Time to sup, lad, for the both of us,” + he broke off shortly. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, I was faint with hunger by this time, yet had no stomach to eat + thus close to the dead. So turning into a gate on our left hand, we + cross'd two or three fields, and sat down to sup off Billy's biscuits, the + mare standing quietly beside us, and cropping the short grass. + </p> + <p> + The field where we now found ourselves ran out along the top of a small + promontory, and ended, without fence of any sort, at the cliff's edge. As + I sat looking southward, I could only observe the sloop by turning my + head: but Billy, who squatted over against me, hardly took his eyes off + her, and between this and his meal was too busy to speak a word. For me, I + had enough to do thinking over the late fight: and being near worn out, + had half a mind to spend the night there on the hard turf: for, though the + sun was now down and the landscape grey, yet the air was exceeding warm: + and albeit, as I have said, there breath'd a light breeze now and then, + 'twas hardly cool enough to dry the sweat off me. So I stretch'd myself + out, and found it very pleasant to lie still; nor, when Billy stood up and + sauntered off toward the far end of the headland, did I stir more than to + turn my head and lazily watch him. + </p> + <p> + He was gone half an hour at the least, and the sky by this time was so + dark, that I had lost sight of him, when, rising on my elbow to look + around, I noted a curious red glow at a point where the turf broke off, + not three hundred yards behind me, and a thin smoke curling up in it, as + it seem'd, from the very face of the cliff below. In a minute or so the + smoke ceased almost; but the shine against the sky continued steady, tho' + not very strong. “Billy has lit a fire,” I guessed, and was preparing to + go and look, when I spied a black form crawling toward me, and presently + saw 'twas Billy himself. + </p> + <p> + Coming close, he halted, put a finger to his lip and beckoned: then began + to lead the way back as he had come. + </p> + <p> + Thought I, “these are queer doings:” but left Molly to browse, and crept + after him on hands and knees. He turn'd his head once to make sure I was + following, and then scrambled on quicker, but softly, toward the point + where the red glow was shining. + </p> + <p> + Once more he pull'd up—as I judg'd, about twelve paces' distance + from the edge—and after considering for a second, began to move + again; only now he worked a little to the right. And soon I saw the + intention of this: for just here the cliff's lip was cleft by a fissure—very + like that in Scawfell which we were used to call the <i>Lord's Rake</i>, + only narrower—that ran back into the field and shelved out gently at + the top, so that a man might easily scramble some way down it, tho' how + far I could not then tell. And 'twas from this fissure that the glow came. + </p> + <p> + Along the right lip of this Billy led me, skirting it by a couple of + yards, and wriggling on his belly like a blind worm. Crawling closer now + (for 'twas hard to see him against the black turf), I stopp'd beside him + and strove to quiet the violence of my breathing. Then, after a minute's + pause, together we pulled ourselves to the edge, and peer'd over. + </p> + <p> + The descent of the gully was broken, some eight feet below us, by a small + ledge, sloping outward about six feet (as I guess), and screen'd by + branches of the wild tamarisk. At the back, in an angle of the solid rock, + was now set a pan pierced with holes, and full of burning charcoal: and + over this a man in the rebels' uniform was stooping. + </p> + <p> + He had a small paper parcel in his left hand, and was blowing at the + charcoal with all his might. Holding my breath, I heard him clearly, but + could see nothing of his face, for his back was toward us, all sable + against the glow. The charcoal fumes as they rose chok'd me so, that I was + very near a fit of coughing, when Billy laid one hand on my shoulder, and + with the other pointed out to seaward. + </p> + <p> + Looking that way, I saw a small light shining on the sea, pretty close in. + 'Twas a lantern hung out from the sloop, as I concluded on the instant: + and now I began to have an inkling of what was toward. + </p> + <p> + But looking down again at the man with the charcoal pan I saw a black head + of hair lifted, and then a pair of red puff'd cheeks, and a pimpled nose + with a scar across the bridge of it—all shining in the glare of the + pan. + </p> + <p> + “Powers of Heaven!” I gasped; “'tis that bloody villain Luke Settle!” + </p> + <p> + And springing to my feet, I took a jump over the edge and came sprawling + on top of him. The scoundrel was stooping with his nose close to the pan, + and had not time to turn before I lit with a thud on his shoulders, + flattening him on the ledge and nearly sending his face on top of the live + coal. 'Twas so sudden that, before he could so much as think, my fingers + were about his windpipe, and the both of us struggling flat on the brink + of the precipice. For he had a bull's strength, and heaved and kicked, so + that I fully looked, next moment, to be flying over the edge into the sea: + nor could I loose my grip to get out a pistol, but only held on and worked + my fingers in, and thought how he had strangled the mastiff that night on + the bowling-green, and vowed to serve him the same if only strength held + out. + </p> + <p> + But now, just as he had almost twisted his neck free, I heard a stone or + two break away above us, and down came Billy Pottery flying atop of us, + and pinned us to the ledge. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas short work now. Within a minute, Captain Luke Settle was turned on + his back, his eyes fairly starting with Billy's clutch on his throat, his + mouth wide open and gasping; till I slipp'd the nozzle of my pistol + between his teeth; and with that he had no more chance, but gave in, and + like a lamb submitted to have his arms truss'd behind him with Billy's + leathern belt, and his legs with his own. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said I, standing over him, and putting the pistol against his + temple, “you and I, Master Turncoat Settle, have some accounts that + 'twould be well to square. So first tell me, what do you here, and where + is Mistress Delia Killigrew?” + </p> + <p> + I think that till this moment the bully had no idea his assailants were + more than a chance couple of Cornish troopers. But now seeing the glow of + the burning charcoal on my face, he ripped out a horrid blasphemous curse, + and straightway fell to speaking calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Good sirs, the game is yours, with care. S'lid! but you hold a pretty + hand—if only you know how to play it.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis you shall help me, Captain: but let us be clear about the stakes. + For you, 'tis life or death: for me, 'tis to regain Mistress Delia, + failing which I shoot you here through the head, and topple you into the + sea. You are the Knave of trumps, sir, and I play that card: as matters + now stand, only the Queen can save you.” + </p> + <p> + “Right: but where be King and Ace?” + </p> + <p> + “The King is the Cornish army, yonder: the Ace is my pistol here, which I + hold.” + </p> + <p> + “And that's a very pretty comprehension of the game, sir: I play the + Queen.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” + </p> + <p> + For answer, he pointed seaward, where the sloop's lantern lay like a + floating star on the black waters. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried I. “Mistress Delia in that sloop! And who is with her, + pray?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Black Dick, to begin with—and Reuben Gedges—and Jeremy + Toy.” + </p> + <p> + “All the Knaves left in the pack—God help her!” I muttered, as I + look'd out toward the light, and my heart beat heavily. “God help her!” I + said again, and turning, spied a grin on the Captain's face. + </p> + <p> + “Under Providence,” answered he, “your unworthy servant may suffice. But + what is my reward to be?” + </p> + <p> + “Your neck,” said I, “if I can save it when you are led before the Cornish + captains.” + </p> + <p> + “That's fair enough: so listen. These few months the lady has been shut in + Bristol keep, whither, by the advice of our employer, we conveyed her back + safe and sound. This same employer—” + </p> + <p> + “A dirty rogue, whom you may as well call by his name—Hannibal + Tingcomb.” + </p> + <p> + “Right, young sir: a very dirty rogue, and a niggardly:—I hate a + mean rascal. Well, fearing her second escape from that prison, and being + hand in glove with the Parliament men, he gets her on board a sloop bound + for the Virginias, just at the time when he knows the Earl of Stamford is + to march and crush the Cornishmen. For escort she has the three comrades + of mine that I named: and the captain of the sloop (a fellow that asks no + questions) has orders to cruise along the coast hereabouts till he gets + news of the battle.” + </p> + <p> + “Which you were just now about to give him,” cried I, suddenly + enlighten'd. + </p> + <p> + “Right again. 'Twas a pretty scheme: for—d'ye see?—if all went + well with the Earl of Stamford, the King's law would be wiped out in + Cornwall, and Master Tingcomb (with his claims and meritorious services) + might snap his thumb thereat. So, in that case, Mistress Delia was to be + brought ashore here and taken to him, to serve as he fancied. But if the + day should go against us—as it has—she was to sail to the + Virginias with the sloop, and there be sold as a slave. Or worse might + happen; but I swear that is the worst was ever told me.” + </p> + <p> + “God knows 'tis vile enough,” said I, scarce able to refrain from blowing + his brains out. “So you were to follow the Earl's army, and work the + signals. Which are they?” For a quick resolve had come into my head, and I + was casting about to put it into execution. + </p> + <p> + “A green light if we won: if not, a red light, to warn the sloop away.” + </p> + <p> + I picked up the packet that had dropp'd from his hand when first I sprang + upon him. It was burst abroad, and a brown powder trickling from it about + the ledge. + </p> + <p> + “This was the red light—to be sprinkled on the burning charcoal, I + suppose?” + </p> + <p> + The fellow nodded. At the same moment, Billy (who as yet had not spoke a + word, and of course, understood nothing) thrust into my hand another + packet that he had found stuck in a corner against the rock. + </p> + <p> + “Now tell me—in case the rebels won, where was the landing to be + made?” + </p> + <p> + “In the cove below here—where the road leads down.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, the road where the wagon stood.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Luke Settle blink'd his eyes at this: but nodded after a moment. + </p> + <p> + “And how many would escort her?” + </p> + <p> + He caught my drift and laughed softly—- + </p> + <p> + “Be damn'd, sir, but I begin to love you, for you play the game very + proper and soundly. Reuben, Jeremy, and Black Dick alone are in the plot; + so why should more escort her? For the skipper and crew have their own + business to look after.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Master Settle, tho' it be a sore trial to you, those three Knaves + you must give me, or I play my Ace,” and I pressed the ring of my pistol + sharply against his ear as a reminder. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart, young sir, you shall have them,” says he briskly. + </p> + <p> + “And this is 'honor among thieves,'” thought I: “You would sell your + comrade as you sold your King:” but only said, “If you cry out, or speak + one word to warn them—” + </p> + <p> + Before I could get my sentence out, Billy Pottery broke in with a voice + like a trumpet— + </p> + <p> + “As folks go, Jack, I be a humorous man. But sittin' here, an' ponderin' + this way an' that, I says, in my deaf an' afflicted style, 'Why not shoot + the ugly rogue, if mirth, indeed, be your object?' For to wait till an + uglier comes to this untravel'd spot is superfluity.” + </p> + <p> + How to explain matters to Billy was more than I could tell: but in a + moment he himself supplied the means. For the rocks here were of some kind + of slate, very hard, but scaly: and finding two pieces, a large and a + small, he handed them to me, bawling that I was to write therewith. So + giving him my pistol, I made shift to scribble a few words. Seeing his + eyes twinkle as he read, I stood up. + </p> + <p> + The charcoal by this time was a glowing mass of red: and threw so clear a + light on us that I feared the crew on board the sloop might see our forms + and suspect their misadventure. But the lantern still hung steadily: so + signing to Billy to drag our prisoner behind a tamarisk bush, I open'd the + second packet, and poured some of the powder into my hand. + </p> + <p> + It was composed of tiny crystals, yellow and flaky: and holding it, for a + moment I was possessed with a horrid fear that this might be the signal to + warn the sloop away. I flung a look at the Captain: who read my thoughts + on the instant. + </p> + <p> + “Never fear, young sir: am no such hero as to sell my life for that + tag-rag. Only make haste, for your deaf friend has a cursed ugly way of + fumbling his pistol.” + </p> + <p> + So taking heart, I tore the packet wide, and shook out the powder on the + coals. + </p> + <p> + Instantly there came a dense choking vapor, and a vivid green flare that + turned the rocks, the sky, and our faces to a ghastly brilliance. For two + minutes, at least, this unnatural light lasted. As soon as it died away + and the fumes clear'd, I look'd seaward. + </p> + <p> + The lantern on the sloop was moving in answer to the signal. Three times + it was lifted and lower'd: and then in the stillness I heard voices + calling, and soon after the regular splash of oars. + </p> + <p> + There was no time to be lost. Pulling the Captain to his feet, we + scrambled up the gully, and out at the top, and across the fields as fast + as our legs would take us. Molly came to my call and trotted beside me—the + Captain following some paces behind, and Billy last, to keep a safe watch + on his movements. + </p> + <p> + At the gate, however, where we turned into the road, I tethered the mare, + lest the sound of her hoofs should betray us: and down toward the sea we + pelted, till almost at the foot of the hill I pull'd up and listen'd, the + others following my example. + </p> + <p> + We could hear the sound of oars plain above the wash of waves on the + beach. I look'd about me. On either side the road was now bank'd by tall + hills, with clusters of bracken and furze bushes lying darkly on their + slopes. Behind one of these clusters I station'd Billy with the Captain's + long sword, and a pistol that I by signs forbade him to fire unless in + extremity. Then, retiring some forty paces up the road, I hid the Captain + and myself on the other side. + </p> + <p> + Hardly were we thus disposed, before I heard the sound of a boat grounding + on the beach below, and the murmur of voices; and then the noise of feet + trampling the shingle. Upon which I ordered my prisoner to give a hail, + which he did readily. + </p> + <p> + “Ahoy, Dick! Ahoy, Reuben Gedges!” + </p> + <p> + In a moment or two came the answer— + </p> + <p> + “Ahoy, there, Captain—here we be!” + </p> + <p> + “Fetch along the cargo!” shouted Captain Settle, on my prompting. + </p> + <p> + “Where be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Up the road, here—waiting!” + </p> + <p> + “One minute, then—wait one minute, Captain!” + </p> + <p> + I heard the boat push'd off, some <i>Good-nights</i> call'd, and then + (with tender anguish) the voice of my Delia lifted in entreaty. As I + guess'd, she was beseeching the sailors to take her back to the sloop, nor + leave her to these villains. There follow'd an oath or two growl'd out, a + short scrimmage, and at last, above the splash of the retreating boat, + came the tramp of heavy feet on the road below. + </p> + <p> + So fired was I at the sound of Delia's voice, that 'twas with much ado I + kept quiet behind the bush. Yet I had wit enough left to look to the + priming of my pistol, and also to bid the Captain shout again. As he did + so, a light shone out down the road, and round the corner came a man + bearing a lantern. + </p> + <p> + “Can't be quicker, Captain,” he called: “the jade struggles so that Dick + and Jeremy ha' their hands full.” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, after him there came in view two stooping forms that bore my + dear maid between them—one by the feet, the other by the shoulders. + I ground my teeth to see it, for she writhed sorely. On they came, + however, until not more than ten paces off; and then that traitor, Luke + Settle, rose up behind our bush. + </p> + <p> + “Set her here, boys,” said he, “and tie her pretty ankles.” + </p> + <p> + “Well met, Captain!” said the fellow with the lantern—Reuben Gedges—stepping + forward; “Give us your hand!” + </p> + <p> + He was holding out his own, when I sprang up, set the pistol close to his + chest, and fired. His scream mingled with the roar of it, and dropping the + lantern, he threw up his hands and tumbled in a heap. At the same moment, + out went the light, and the other rascals, dropping Delia, turn'd to run, + crying, “Sold—sold!” + </p> + <p> + But behind them came now a shout from Billy, and a crashing blow that + almost severed Black Dick's arm at the shoulder: and at the same instant I + was on Master Toy's collar, and had him down in the dust. Kneeling on his + chest, with my sword point at his throat, I had leisure to glance at + Billy, who in the dark, seem'd to be sitting on the head of his disabled + victim. And then I felt a touch on my shoulder, and a dear face peer'd + into mine. + </p> + <p> + “Is it Jack—my sweet Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said I: “and if you but reach out your hand, I will kiss it, + for all that I'm busy with this rogue.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Jack, I'll kiss thee on the cheek—so! Dear lad, I am so + frighten'd, and yet could laugh for joy!” + </p> + <p> + But now I caught the sound of galloping on the road above, and shouts, and + then more galloping; and down came a troop of horsemen that were like to + have ridden over us, had I not shouted lustily. + </p> + <p> + “Who, in the fiend's name is here?” shouted the foremost, pulling in his + horse with a scramble. + </p> + <p> + “Honest men and rebels together,” I answered; “but light the lantern that + you will find handy by, and you shall know one from t'other.” + </p> + <p> + By the time 'twas found and lit, there was a dozen of Col. John Digby's + dragoons about us: and before the two villains were bound, comes a half + dozen more, leading in Captain Settle, that had taken to his heels at the + first blow and climb'd the hill, all tied as he was about the hands, and + was caught in his endeavor to clamber on Molly's back. So he and Black + Dick and Jeremy Toy were strapp'd up: but Reuben Gedges we left on the + road for a corpse. Yet he did not die (though shot through the lung), but + recovered—heaven knows how: and I myself had the pleasure to see him + hanged at Tyburn, in the second year of his late Majesty's most blessed + Restoration, for stopping the Bishop of Salisbury's coach, in Maidenhead + Thicket, and robbing the Bishop himself, with much added contumely. + </p> + <p> + But as we were ready to start, and I was holding Delia steady on Molly's + back, up comes Billy and bawls in my ear—- + </p> + <p> + “There's a second horse, if wanted, that I spied tether'd under a hedge + younder”—and he pointed to the field where we had first found + Captain Settle—“in color a sad black, an' harness'd like as if he + came from a cart.” + </p> + <p> + I look'd at the Captain, who in the light of the lantern blink'd again. + “Thou bloody villain!” muttered I, for now I read the tragedy of the wagon + beside the road, and knew how Master Settle had provided a horse for his + own escape. + </p> + <p> + But hereupon the word was given, and we started up the hill, I walking by + Delia's stirrup and listening to her talk as if we had never been parted—yet + with a tenderer joy, having by loss of it learn'd to appraise my happiness + aright. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. — JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE. + </h2> + <p> + We came, a little before midnight, to Sir Bevill's famous great house of + Stow, near Kilkhampton: that to-night was brightly lit and full of + captains and troopers feasting, as well they needed to, after the great + victory. And here, though loth to do so, I left Delia to the care of Lady + Grace Grenville, Sir Bevill's fond beautiful wife, and of all gentlewomen + I have ever seen the pink and paragon, as well for her loyal heart as the + graces of her mind: who, before the half of our tale was out, kissed Delia + on both cheeks, and led her away. “To you too, sir, I would counsel bed,” + said she, “after you have eaten and drunk, and especially given God thanks + for this day's work.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Bevill I did not see, but striding down into the hall, picked my way + among the drinking and drunken; the servants hurrying with dishes of roast + and baked and great tankards of beer; the swords and pikes flung down + under the forms and settles, and sticking out to trip a man up; and at + length found a groom who led me to a loft over one of the barns: and here, + above a mattress of hay, I slept the first time for many months between + fresh linen that smell'd of lavender, and in thinking how pleasant 'twas, + dropped sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + Sure there is no better, sweeter couch than this of linen spread over hay. + Early in the morning, I woke with wits clear as water, and not an ache or + ounce of weariness in my bones: and after washing at the pump below, went + in search of breakfast and Sir Bevill. The one I found, ready laid, in the + hall; the other seated in his writing-room, studying in a map; and with + apology for my haste, handed him Master Tingcomb's confession and told my + story. + </p> + <p> + When 'twas over, Sir Bevill sat pondering, and after a while said, very + frankly—— + </p> + <p> + “As a magistrate I can give this warrant; and 'twould be a pleasure, for + well, as a boy, do I remember Deakin Killigrew. Young sir——” + he rose up, and taking a turn across the room, came and laid a hand on my + shoulder, “I have seen his daughter. Is it too late to warn you against + loving her?” + </p> + <p> + “Why yes,” I answer'd blushing: “I think it is.” + </p> + <p> + “She seems both sweet and quaint. God forbid I should say a word against + one that has so taken me! But in these times a man should stand alone: to + make a friend is to run the chance of a soft heart: to marry a wife makes + the chance sure——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off, and went on again with a change of tone—— + </p> + <p> + “For many reasons I would blithely issue this warrant. But how am I to + spare men to carry it out? At any moment we may be assail'd.” + </p> + <p> + “If that be your concern, sir,” answer'd I, “give me the warrant. I have a + good friend here, a seafaring man, whose vessel lies at this moment in + Looe Haven, with a crew on board that will lay Master Tingcomb by the + heels in a trice. Within three days we'll have him clapp'd in Launceston + Jail, and there at the next Assize you shall sit on the Grand Jury and + hear his case, by which time, I hope, the King's law shall run on easier + wheels in Cornwall. The prisoners we have already I leave you to deal + withal: only, against my will, I must claim some mercy for that rogue, + Settle.” + </p> + <p> + To this Sir Bevill consented; and, to be short, the three knaves were next + morning pack'd off to Launceston: but in time, no evidence being brought + against them, regained their freedom, which they used to come to the + gallows, each in his own way. Their doings no longer concern this history, + and so I gladly leave them. + </p> + <p> + To return, then, to my proper tale, 'twas not ten minutes before I had the + warrant in my pocket. And by eleven o'clock (word having been carried to + Delia, and our plans laid before Billy Pottery, who on the spot engaged + himself to help us) our horses were brought round to the gate, and my + mistress appear'd, all ready for the journey. For tho' assured that the + work needed not her presence, and that she had best wait at Stow till + Master Tingcomb was smok'd out of his nest, she would have none of it, but + was set on riding with me to see justice done on this fellow, of whose + villainy I had told her much the night before. And glad I was of her + choice, as I saw her standing on the entrance steps, fresh as a rose, and + in a fit habit once more: for Lady Grace had lent not only her own bay + horse, but also a riding dress and hat of grey velvet to equip her: and + stood in the porch to wish us <i>Godspeed!</i> while Sir Bevill help'd + Delia to the saddle. + </p> + <p> + So, with Billy tramping behind us, away we rode up the combe, where + Kilkhampton tower stood against the sky; and turning to wave hands at the + top, found our host and hostess still by the gate, watching us, with hands + rais'd to shield their eyes from the sun. + </p> + <p> + The whole petty tale of this day's ride I shall not dwell upon. Indeed, I + scarcely noted the miles as they pass'd. For all the way we were + chattering, Delia telling me how Captain Settle and his gang had hurried + her (tho' without indignity) across Dartmoor to Ashburton, thence to + Lynton in North Devon, and so along the coast of Somerset to Bristol; how + they there produced a paper, at sight of which Sir Nathaniel Fiennes, the + new Governor, kept her under lock and key. And thus she remained four + months, at the end of which time they convey'd her on board a sloop, + call'd the <i>Fortitude</i>, and bound for the Virginias, with the result + that has been told. To all of which I listened greedily, stealing from + time to time a look at her shape, that on horseback was graceful as a + willow, and into her eyes that, under the flapping grey brim, were gay and + fancy-free as ever. + </p> + <p> + “And did you,” asked I, “never at heart chide me for leaving you so!” + </p> + <p> + “Why no. I never took thee for a conjurer, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “But, at least, you thought of me,” I urged. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear—oh, dear!” She pull'd rein and look'd at me: “I remember + now that last night I kiss'd thee. Forget it, Jack: last night, so glad + was I to be sav'd, I could have kiss'd a cobbler. Indeed, Jack,” she went + on seriously, “I would that some maid had got hold of thee, in all these + months, to cure thy silly notions!” + </p> + <p> + At Launceston, Billy Pottery took leave of us: and now went, due south, + toward Looe, with a light purse and lighter heart, undertaking that his + ship should lie off Gleys, with her crew ready for action, within + eight-and-forty hours. Delia and I rode faster now toward the southwest: + and having by this time recover'd my temper, I was recounting my flight + along this very road, when I heard a sound that brought my heart into my + mouth. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the blast of a bugle, and came from behind the hill in front of us. + And at the same moment I understood. It must be Sir George Chudleigh's + cavalry returning, on news of their comrades' defeat, and we were riding + straight toward them, as into a trap. + </p> + <p> + Now what could have made me forgetful of this danger I cannot explain, + unless it be that our thorough victory over the rebels had given me the + notion that the country behind us was clear of foes. And Sir Bevill must + have had a notion we were going straight to Looe with Billy. At any rate, + there was no time to be lost: for my presence was a danger to Delia as + well. I cast a glance about me. There was no place to hide. + </p> + <p> + “Quick!” I cried; “follow me, and ride for dear life!” + </p> + <p> + And striking spur into Molly I turn'd sharp off the road and gallop'd + across the moor to the left, with Delia close after me. + </p> + <p> + We had gone about two hundred yards only when I heard a shout, and + glancing over my right shoulder, saw a green banner waving on the crest of + the road, and gathered about it the vanguard of the troop—some score + of dragoons: and these, having caught sight of us, were pausing a moment + to watch. + </p> + <p> + The shout presently was followed by another; to which I made no answer, + but held on my way, with the nose of Delia's horse now level with my + stirrup: for I guess'd that my dress had already betrayed us. And this was + the case; for at the next glance I saw five or six dragoons detach + themselves from the main body, and gallop in a direction at an acute angle + to ours. On they came, yelling to us to halt, and scattering over the moor + to intercept us. + </p> + <p> + Not choosing, however, to be driven eastward, I kept a straight course and + trusted to our horses' fleetness to carry us by them, out of reach of + their shot. In the pause of their first surprise we had stolen two hundred + yards more. I counted and found eight men thus in pursuit of us: and to my + joy heard the bugle blown again, and saw the rest of the troop, now + gathering fast above, move steadily along the road without intention to + follow. Doubtless the news of the Cornish success made them thus wary of + their good order. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: two arrows} + </p> + <p> + Still, eight men were enough to run from; and now the nearest let fly with + his piece—more to frighten us, belike, than with any other view, for + we were far out of range. But it grew clear that if we held on our + direction they must cut us off: as you may see by these two arrows, the + long thin one standing for our own course, the thicker and shorter for + that of the dragoons. + </p> + <p> + Only now with good hope I saw a hill rising not half a mile in front, and + somewhat to the right of our course: and thought I “if we can gain the + hollow to the left of it, and put the hill between us, they must ride over + it or round—in either case losing much time.” So, pointing this out + to Delia, who rode on my left (to leave my pistol arm free and at the same + time be screen'd by me from shot of the dragoons) I drove my spurs deep + and called to Molly to make her best pace. + </p> + <p> + The enemy divin'd our purpose: and in a minute 'twas a desperate race for + the entrance to the hollow. But our horses were the faster, and we the + lighter riders; so that we won, with thirty yards to spare, from the + foremost:—not without damage, however; for finding himself baulked, + he sent a bullet at us which cut neatly through my off rein, so that my + bridle was henceforward useless and I could guide Molly with knee and + voice alone. Delia's bay had shied at the sound of it, and likely enough + saved my mistress' life by this; for the bullet must have pass'd within a + foot before her. + </p> + <p> + Down the hollow we raced with three dragoons at our heels, the rest going + round the hill. But they did little good by so doing, for after the hollow + came a broad, dismal sheet of water (by name Dozmare Pool, I have since + heard) about a mile round and bank'd with black peat. Galloping along the + left shore of this, we cut them off by near half a mile. But the three + behind followed doggedly, though dropping back with every stride. + </p> + <p> + Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, which + we jump'd easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the further side, I + noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes brimful of mirth. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Jack,” she cried; “is not this better than love of women?” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven's name,” I called out, “take care!” + </p> + <p> + But 'twas too late. The green valley here melted into a treacherous bog, + in the which her bay was already plunging over his fetlocks, and every + moment sinking deeper. + </p> + <p> + “Throw me the rein!” I shouted, and catching the bridle close by the bit, + lean'd over and tried to drag the horse forward. By this, Molly also was + over hoofs in liquid mud. For a minute and more we heav'd and splashed: + and all the while the dragoons, seeing our fix, were shouting and drawing + nearer and nearer. But just as a brace of bullets splashed into the slough + at our feet, we stagger'd to the harder slope, and were gaining on them + again. So for twenty minutes along the spurs of the hills, we held on, the + enemy falling back and hidden, every now and again, in the hollows—but + always following: at the end of which time, Delia call'd from just behind + me— + </p> + <p> + “Jack—here's a to-do: the bay is going lame!” + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt of it. I suppose he must have wrung his off hind leg in + fighting through the quag. Any way, ten minutes more would see the end of + his gallop. But at this moment we had won to the top of a stiff ascent: + and now, looking down at our feet, I had the joyfullest surprise. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the moor of Temple spread below like a map, the low sun striking on + the ruin'd huts to the left of us, on the roof of Joan's cottage, on the + scar of the high road, and the sides of the tall tor above it. + </p> + <p> + “In ten minutes,” said I, “we may be safe.” + </p> + <p> + So down into the plain we hurried: and I thought for the first time of the + loyal girl waiting in the cottage yonder; of my former ride into Temple; + and (with angry shame) of the light heart with which I left it. To what + had the summoning drums and trumpets led me? Where was the new life, then + so carelessly prevented? But two days had gone, and here was I running to + Joan for help, as a child to his mother. + </p> + <p> + Past the peat-ricks we struggled, the sheep-cotes, the straggling fences—all + so familiar; cross'd the stream and rode into the yard. + </p> + <p> + “Jump down,” I whisper'd: “we have time, and no more.” Glancing back, I + saw a couple of dragoons already coming over the heights. They had spied + us. + </p> + <p> + Dismounting I ran to the cottage door and flung it open. A stream of + light, flung back against the sun, blazed into my eyes. + </p> + <p> + I rubbed them and halted for a moment stock-still. + </p> + <p> + For Joan stood in front of me, dress'd in the very clothes I had worn on + the day we first met—buff-coat, breeches, heavy boots, and all. Her + back was toward me, and at the shoulder, where the coat had been cut away + from my wound, I saw the rents all darn'd and patch'd with pack thread. In + her hand was the mirror I had given her. + </p> + <p> + At the sound of my step on the threshold she turn'd with a short cry—a + cry the like of which I have never heard, so full was it of choking joy. + The glass dropp'd to the floor and was shatter'd. In a second her arms + were about me, and so she hung on my neck, sobbing and laughing together. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas true—'twas true! Dear, dear Jack—dear Jack to come to + me: hold me tighter, tighter—for my very heart is bursting!” + </p> + <p> + And behind me a shadow fell on the doorway: and there stood Delia + regarding us. + </p> + <p> + “Good lad—all yesterday I swore to be strong and wait for years, if + need be. Fie on womankind, to be so weak! All day I sat an' sat, an' did + never a mite o' work—never set hand to a tool: an' by sunset I gave + in an' went, cursing mysel', over the moor to Warleggan, to Alsie Pascoe, + the wise woman—an' she taught me a charm—an' bless her, bless + her, Jack, for't hath brought thee!” + </p> + <p> + “Joan,” said I, hot with shame, taking her arms gently from my neck: + “listen: I come because I am chased. Once more the dragooners are after me—not + five minutes away. You must lend me a horse, and at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said a voice in the doorway, “the horse, if lent, is for <i>me!</i>” + </p> + <p> + Joan turn'd, and the two women stood looking at each other;—the one + with dark wonder, the other with cold disdainfulness—and I between + them scarce lifting my eyes. Each was beautiful after her kind, as day and + night: and though their looks cross'd for a full minute like drawn blades, + neither had the mastery. Joan was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Jack, is thy mare in the yard?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Give me thy pistols and thy cloak.” She stepp'd to the window hole at the + end of the kitchen, and look'd out. “Plenty o' time,” she said; and + pointed to the ladder leading to the loft above—“Climb up there, the + both, and pull the ladder after. Is't <i>thou</i>, they want—or <i>she?</i>” + pointing to Delia. + </p> + <p> + “Me chiefly they would catch, no doubt—being a man,” I answer'd. + </p> + <p> + “Aye—bein' a man: the world's full o' folly. Then Jack do thou look + after <i>her</i>, an' I'll look after <i>thee</i>. If the rebels leave + thee in peace, make for the Jews' Kitchen and there abide me.” + </p> + <p> + She flung my cloak about her, took my pistols and went out at the door. As + she did so, the sun sank and a dull shadow swept over the moor. “Joan!” I + cried, for now I guess'd her purpose and was following to hinder her: but + she had caught Molly's bridle and was already astride of her. “Get back!” + she call'd softly; and then, “I make a better lad than wench, Jack,”—leap'd + the mare through a gap in the wall, and in a moment was breasting the hill + and galloping for the high road. + </p> + <p> + In less than a minute, as it seem'd, I heard a pounding of hoofs, and had + barely time to follow Delia up the ladder and pull it after me, when two + of the dragoons rode skurrying by the house, and pass'd on yelling. Their + cries were hardly faint in the distance before there came another three. + </p> + <p> + “'A's a lost man, now, for sure,” said one: “Be dang'd if 'a's not took + the road back to Lan'son!” + </p> + <p> + “How 'bout the gal?” ask'd another voice. “Here's her horse i' the yard.” + </p> + <p> + “Drat the gal! Sam, go thou an' tackle her: reckon thou'rt warriors enow + for one 'ooman.” + </p> + <p> + The two hasten'd on: and presently I heard the one they call'd “Sam” + dismounting in the yard. Now there was a window hole in the loft, facing, + not on the yard, but toward the country behind; and running to it I saw + that no more were following—the other three having, as I suppose, + early given up the chase. Softly pulling out a loose stone or two, I + widen'd this hole till I could thrust the ladder out of it. To my joy it + just reach'd the ground. I bade Delia squeeze herself through and climb + down. + </p> + <p> + But before she was halfway down I heard a wild screech in the kitchen + below, and the voice of Sam shrieking—- + </p> + <p> + “Help—help! Lord ha' mercy 'pon me—'tis a black cat—'tis + a witch! The gal's no gal, but a witch!” + </p> + <p> + Laughing softly, I was descending the ladder when the fellow came round + the corner screaming—with Jan Tergagle clawing at his back and + spitting murderously. Delia had just time to slip aside, before he ran + into the ladder and brought me flying on top of him. And there he lay and + bellow'd till I tied him, and gagg'd his noise with a big stone in his + mouth and his own scarf tied round it. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” I whisper'd: for Joan and her pursuers were out of sight. Catching + up her long skirt, Delia follow'd me, and up the tor we panted together, + nor rested till we were safe in the Jews' Kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “What think you of this for a hiding place?” ask'd I, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + But Delia did not laugh. Instead, she faced me with blazing eyes, check'd + herself and answer'd, cold as ice—- + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you have done me a many favors. How I have trusted you in return it + were best for you to remember, and for me to forget.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + The dark drew on; the western star grew distinct and hung flashing over + against our hiding; and still we sat there, hour after hour, silent, + angry, waiting for Joan's return, Delia at the entrance of the den, chin + on hand, scanning the heavens and never once turning toward me; I further + inside, with my arms cross'd, raging against myself and all the world, yet + with a sick'ning dread that Joan would never come back. + </p> + <p> + As the time lagg'd by, this terror grew and grew. But, as I think, about + ten o'clock, I heard steps coming over the turf. I ran out. 'Twas Joan + herself and leading Molly by the bridle. She walk'd as if tir'd, and + leaving the mare at the entrance, follow'd me into the cave. Glancing + round, I noted that Delia had slipp'd away. + </p> + <p> + “Am glad she's gone,” said Joan shortly: “How many rebels pass'd this way, + Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “Five, counting one that lies gagg'd and bound, down at the cottage.” + </p> + <p> + “That leaves four:”—she stretch'd herself on the ground with a sigh—“four + that'll never trouble thee more, lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? how—” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, lad: sit down an' let me rest my head 'pon thy knee. Oh, Jack, I + did it bravely! Eight good miles an' more I took the mare—by the + Four—hol'd Cross, an' across the moor past Tober an' Catshole, an' + over Brown Willy, an' round Roughtor to the nor'-west: an' there lies the + bravest quag—oh, a black, bottomless hole!—an' into it I led + them; an' there they lie, every horse, an' every mother's son, till + Judgment Day.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—an' the last twain wi' a bullet apiece in their skulls. Oh, + rare! Dear heart—hold my head—so, atween thy hands. 'Put on + his cast off duds,' said Alsie, 'an' stand afore the glass, sayin' “Come, + true man!” nine-an'-ninety time.' I was mortal 'feard o' losin' count; but + afore I got to fifty, I heard thy step an'—hold me closer, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “But Joan, are these men dead, say you?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, yes. Why, lad, what be four rebels, up or down, to make this coil + over? Hast never axed after <i>me!”</i> + </p> + <p> + “Joan—you are not hurt?” + </p> + <p> + In the darkness I sought her eyes, and, peering into them, drew back. + </p> + <p> + “Joan!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, lad—bend down thy head, and let me whisper. I went too near—an' + one, that was over his knees, let fly wi' his musket—an' Jack, I + have but a minute or two. Hush lad, hush—there's no call! Wert never + the man could ha' tam'd me—art the weaker, in a way: forgie the + word, for I lov'd thee so, boy Jack!” + </p> + <p> + Her arms were drawing down my face to her: her eyes dull with pain. + </p> + <p> + “Feel, Jack—there—over my right breast. I plugg'd the wound + wi' a peat turf. Pull it out, for 'tis bleeding inwards, and hurts cruelly—pull + it out!” + </p> + <p> + As I hesitated, she thrust her own hand in and drew it forth, leaving the + hot blood to gush. + </p> + <p> + “An' now, Jack, tighter—hold me tighter. Kiss me—oh, what + brave times! Tighter, lad, an' call wi' me—'Church an' King!' Call, + lad—'Church an'—'” + </p> + <p> + The warm arms loosen'd: the head sank back upon my lap. + </p> + <p> + I look'd up. There was a shadow across the entrance, blotting out the star + of night. 'Twas Delia, leaning there and listening. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE. + </h2> + <p> + The day-spring came at last, and in the sick light of it I went down to + the cottage for spade and pickaxe. In the tumult of my senses I hardly + noted that our prisoner, the dragoon, had contrived to slip his bonds and + steal off in the night. + </p> + <p> + And then Delia, seeing me return with the sad tools on my shoulder, spoke + for the first time: + </p> + <p> + “First, if there be a well near, fetch me two buckets of water, and leave + us for an hour.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was weary and chill: so that I dared not thank her, but did the + errand in silence. Then, but a dozen paces from the spot where Joan's + father lay, I dug a grave and strew'd it with bracken, and heather, and + gorse petals, that in the morning air smell'd rarely. And soon after my + task was done, Delia call'd me. + </p> + <p> + In her man's dress Joan lay, her arms cross'd, her black tresses braided, + and her face gentler than ever 'twas in life. Over her wounded breast was + a bunch of some tiny pink flower, that grew about the tor. + </p> + <p> + So I lifted her softly as once in this same place she had lifted me, and + bore her down the slope to the grave: and there I buried her, while Delia + knelt and pray'd, and Molly browsed, lifting now and then her head to + look. + </p> + <p> + When all was done, we turn'd away, dry-eyed, and walked together to the + cottage. The bay horse was feeding on the moor below; and finding him + still too lame to carry Delia, I shifted the saddles, and mending the + broken rein, set her on Molly. The cottage door stood open, but we did not + enter; only look'd in, and seeing Jan Tergagle curl'd beside the cold + hearth, left him so. + </p> + <p> + Mile after mile we pass'd in silence, Delia riding, and I pacing beside + her with the bay. At last, tortur'd past bearing, I spoke— + </p> + <p> + “Delia, have you nothing to say?” + </p> + <p> + For a while she seem'd to consider: then, with her eyes fix'd on the hills + ahead, answered— + </p> + <p> + “Much, if I could speak: but all this has changed me somehow—'tis, + perhaps, that I have grown a woman, having been a girl—and need to + get used to it, and think.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke not angrily, as I look'd for; but with a painful slowness that + was less hopeful. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said I, “over and over you have shown that I am nought to you. + Surely—” + </p> + <p> + “Surely I am jealous? 'Tis possible—yes, Jack, I am but a woman, and + so 'tis certain.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to be jealous, you must love me!” + </p> + <p> + She look'd at me straight, and answered very deliberate— + </p> + <p> + “Now that is what I am far from sure of.” + </p> + <p> + “But, dear Delia, when your anger has cool'd—” + </p> + <p> + “My anger was brief: I am disappointed, rather. With her last breath, + almost, Joan said you were weaker than she: she lov'd you better than I, + and read you clearer. You <i>are</i> weak. Jack”—she drew in Molly, + and let her hand fall on my shoulder very kindly—“we have been + comrades for many a long mile, and I hope are honest good friends; + wherefore I loathe to say a harsh or ungrateful-seeming word. But you + could not understand that brave girl, and you cannot understand me: for as + yet you do not even know yourself. The knowledge comes slowly to a man, I + think; to a woman at one rush. But when it comes, I believe you may be + strong. Now leave me to think, for my head is all of a tangle.” + </p> + <p> + Our pace was so slow (by reason of the lame horse), that a great part of + the afternoon was spent before we came in sight of the House of Gleys. And + truly the yellow sunshine bad flung some warmth about the naked walls and + turrets, so that Delia's home-coming seem'd not altogether cheerless. But + what gave us more happiness was to spy, on the blue water beyond, the + bright canvas of the <i>Godsend</i>, and to hear the cries and stir of + Billy Pottery's mariners as they haul'd down the sails. + </p> + <p> + And Billy himself was on the lookout with his spyglass. For hardly were we + come to the beach when our signal—the waving of a white kerchief—was + answered by another on board; and within half an hour a boat puts off, + wherein, as she drew nearer, I counted eight fellows. + </p> + <p> + They were (besides Billy), Matt. Soames, the master, Gabriel Hutchins, Ned + Masters, the black man Sampson, Ben Halliday, and two whose full names I + have forgot—but one was call'd Nicholas. And, after many warm + greetings, the boat was made fast, and we climbed up along the peninsula + together, in close order, like a little army. + </p> + <p> + All this time there was no sign or sound about the House of Gleys to show + that anyone mark'd us or noted our movements. The gate was closed, the + windows stood shutter'd, as on my former visit: even the chimneys were + smokeless. Such effect had this desolation on our spirits, that drawing + near, we fell to speaking in whispers, and said Ned Masters— + </p> + <p> + “Now a man would think us come to bury somebody!” + </p> + <p> + “He might make a worse guess,” I answer'd. + </p> + <p> + Marching up to the gate, I rang a loud peal on the bell; and to my + astonishment, before the echoes had time to die away, the grating was + push'd back, and the key turn'd in the lock. + </p> + <p> + “Step ye in—step ye in, good folks! A sorry day,—a day of sobs + an' tears an' afflicted blowings of the nose—when the grasshopper is + a burden an' the mourners go about seeking whom they may devour the + funeral meats. Y' are welcome, gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas the voice of my one-eyed friend, as he undid the bolts; and now he + stood in the gateway with a prodigious black sash across his canary + livery, so long that the ends of it swept the flagstones. + </p> + <p> + “Is Master Tingcomb within?” I helped Delia to dismount, and gave our two + horses to a stable boy that stood shuffling some paces off. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” the old man heav'd a deep sigh, and with that began to hobble + across the yard. We troop'd after, wondering. At the house door he turn'd—- + </p> + <p> + “Sirs, there is cold roasted capons, an' a ham, an' radishes in choice + profusion for such as be not troubled wi' the wind: an' cordial wines—alack + the day!” + </p> + <p> + He squeez'd a frosty tear from his one eye, and led us to a large bare + hall, hung round with portraits; where was a table spread with a plenty of + victuals, and horn-handled knives and forks laid beside plates of pewter; + and at the table a man in black, eating. He had straight hair and a sallow + face; and look'd up as we enter'd, but, groaning, in a moment fell to + again. + </p> + <p> + “Eat, sirs,” the old servitor exhorted us: “alas! that man may take + nothing out o' the world!” + </p> + <p> + I know not who of us was most taken aback. But noting Delia's sad + wondering face, as her eyes wander'd round the neglected room and rested + on the tatter'd portraits, I lost patience. + </p> + <p> + “Our business is with Master Hannibal Tingcomb,” said I sharply. + </p> + <p> + The straight-hair'd man look'd up again, his mouth full of ham. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!”—he held his fork up, and shook his head sorrowfully: and I + wonder'd where I had Been him before. “Hast thou an angel's wings?” he + ask'd. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, sir; but the devil's own boots—as you shall find if I be + not answer'd.” + </p> + <p> + “Young man—young man,” broke in the one-eyed butler: “our minister + is a good minister, an' speaks roundabout as such: but the short is, that + my master is dead, an' in his coffin.” + </p> + <p> + “The mortal part,” corrected the minister, cutting another slice. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, the immortal is a-trippin' it i' the New Jeroosalem: but the mortal + was very lamentably took wi' a fit, three days back—the same day, + young man, as thou earnest wi' thy bloody threats.” + </p> + <p> + “A fit?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, sir, an' verily—such a fit as thou thysel' witness'd. 'Twas + the third attack—an' he cried, 'Oh!' he did, an' 'Ah!'—just + like that. 'Oh!' an' then 'Ah!' Such were his last dyin' speech. 'Dear + Master,' says I, 'there's no call to die so hard:' but might so well ha' + whistled, for he was dead as nails. A beautiful corpse, sirs, dang my + buttons!” + </p> + <p> + “Show him to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly, young man.” He led the way to the very room where Master + Tingcomb and I had held our interview. As before, six candles were burning + there: but the table was push'd into a corner, and now their light fell on + a long black coffin, resting on trestles in the centre of the room. The + coffin was clos'd, and studded with silver nails; on the lid was a silver + plate bearing these words written—“<i>Hannibal Tingcomb</i>, + MDCXLIII.,” with a text of Scripture below. + </p> + <p> + “Why have you nail'd him down?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Now where be thy bowels, young man, to talk so unfeelin'? An' where be + thy experience, not to know the ways o' thy blessed dead in summer time?” + </p> + <p> + “When do you bury him?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow forenoon. The spot is two mile from here.” He blinked at me, + and hesitated for a minute. “Is it your purpose, sirs, to attend?” + </p> + <p> + “Be sure of that,” I said grimly. “So have beds ready to-night for all our + company.” + </p> + <p> + “All thy—! Dear sir, consider: where are beds to be found? Sure, thy + mariners can pass the night aboard their own ship?” + </p> + <p> + “So then,” thought I, “you have been on the lookout;” but Delia replied + for me—- + </p> + <p> + “I am Delia Killigrew, and mistress of this house. You will prepare the + beds as you are told.” Whereupon what does that decrepit old sinner but + drop upon his knees? + </p> + <p> + “Mistress Delia! O goodly feast for this one poor eye! Oh, that Master + Tingcomb had seen this day!” + </p> + <p> + I declare the tears were running down his nose; but Delia march'd out, + cutting short his hypocrisy. + </p> + <p> + In the passage she whisper'd— + </p> + <p> + “Villainy, Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” I answered, “and listen: <i>Master Tingcomb is no more in that + coffin than I.</i>” + </p> + <p> + “Then where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “That is just what we are to discover.” As I said this a light broke on + me. “By the Lord,” I cried, “'tis the very same!” + </p> + <p> + Delia open'd her eyes wide. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” I said: “I begin to touch ground.” + </p> + <p> + We returned to the great hall. The straight-hair'd man was still eating, + and opposite sat Billy, that had not budg'd, but now beckoning to me, very + mysterious, whisper'd in a voice that made the plates rattle— + </p> + <p> + “That's—a damned—rogue!” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas discomposing, but the truth. In fact, I had just solv'd a puzzle. + This holy-speaking minister was no other than the groom I had seen at + Bodmin Fair holding Master Tingcomb's horses. + </p> + <p> + By this, the sun was down, and Delia soon made an excuse to withdraw to + her own room. Nor was it long before the rest followed her example. I + found our chambers prepared, near together, in a wing of the house at some + distance from the hall. Delia's was next to mine, as I made sure by + knocking at her door: and on the other side of me slept Billy with two of + his crew. My own bed was in a great room sparely furnish'd; and the linen + indifferent white. There was a plenty of clean straw, tho', on the floor, + had I intended to sleep—which I did not. + </p> + <p> + Instead, having blown out my light, I sat on the bed's edge, listening to + the big clock over the hall as it chim'd the quarters, and waiting till + the fellows below should be at their ease. That Master Tingcomb rested + under the coffin lid, I did not believe, in spite of the terrifying fit + that I could vouch for. But this, if driven to it, we could discover at + the grave. The main business was to catch him; and to this end I meant to + patrol the buildings, and especially watch the entrance, on the likely + chance of his creeping back to the house (if not already inside), to + confer with his fellow-rascals. + </p> + <p> + As eleven o'clock sounded, therefore, I tapp'd on Billy's wall; and + finding that Matt. Soames was keeping watch (as we had agreed upon), + slipp'd off my boots. Our rooms were on the first floor, over a straw + yard; and the distance to the ground an easy drop for a man. But wishing + to be silent as possible, I knotted two blankets together, and strapping + the end round the window mullion, swung myself down by one hand, holding + my boots in the other. + </p> + <p> + I dropp'd very lightly, and look'd about. There was a faint moon up and + glimmering on the straw; but under the house was deep shadow, and along + this I crept. The straw yard led into the court before the stables, and so + into the main court. All this way I heard no sound, nor spied so much as a + speck of light in any window. The house door was clos'd, and the bar + fastened on the great gate across the yard. I turn'd the corner to explore + the third side of the house. + </p> + <p> + Here was a group of outbuildings jutting out, and between them and the + high outer wall a narrow alley. 'Twas with difficulty I groped my way + here, for the passage was dark as pitch, and rendered the straiter by a + line of ragged laurels planted under the house; so that at every other + step I would stumble, and run my head into a bush. + </p> + <p> + I had done this for the eighth time, and was cursing under my breath, when + on a sudden I heard a stealthy footfall coming down the alley behind me. + </p> + <p> + “Master Tingcomb, for a crown!” thought I, and crouch'd to one side under + a bush. The footsteps drew nearer. A dark form parted the laurels: another + moment, and I had it by the throat. + </p> + <p> + “Uugh—ugh—grr! For the Lord's sake, sir,—” + </p> + <p> + I loos'd my hold: 'twas Matt. Soames. “Your pardon,” whisper'd I; “but why + have you left your post?” + </p> + <p> + “Black Sampson is watchin', so I took the freedom—ugh! my poor + windpipe!—to—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off to catch me by the sleeve and pull me down behind the bush. + About twelve paces ahead I heard a door softly open'd and saw a shaft of + light flung across the path between the glist'ning laurels. As the ray + touch'd the outer wall, I mark'd a small postern gate there, standing + open. + </p> + <p> + Cowering lower, we waited while a man might count fifty. Then came + footsteps crunching the gravel, and a couple of men cross'd the path, + bearing a large chest between them. In the light I saw the handle of a + spade sticking out from it: and by his gait I knew the second man to be my + one-ey'd friend. + </p> + <p> + “Woe's my old bones!” he was muttering: “here's a fardel for a man o' my + years!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold thy breath for the next load!” growl'd the other voice, which as + surely was the good minister's. + </p> + <p> + They pass'd out of the small gate, and by the sounds that follow'd, we + guess'd they were hoisting their burden into a cart. Presently they + re-cross'd the path, and entered the house, shutting the door after them. + </p> + <p> + “Now for it!” said I in Matt's ear. Gliding forward, I peep'd out at the + postern gate; but drew back like a shot. + </p> + <p> + I had almost run my head into a great black hearse, that stood there with + the door open, back'd against the gate, the heavy plumes nodding above it + in the night wind. + </p> + <p> + Who held the horses I had not time to see: but whispering to Matt, to give + me a leg up, clamber'd inside. “Quick!” I pull'd him after, and crept + forward. I wonder'd the man did not hear us: but by good luck the horses + were restive, and by his maudlin talk to them I knew he was three parts + drunk—on the funeral wines, doubtless. + </p> + <p> + I crept along, and found the tool chest stow'd against the further end: + so, pulling it gently out, we got behind it. Tho' Matt was the littlest + man of my acquaintance, 'twas the work of the world to stow ourselves in + such compass as to be hidden. By coiling up our limbs we managed it; but + only just before I caught the glimmer of a light and heard the pair of + rascals returning. + </p> + <p> + They came very slow, grumbling all the way; and of course, I knew they + carried the coffin. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Sim?” ask'd the minister. + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” piped a squeaky voice by the horses heads ('twas the shuffling + stable boy), “aye, but look sharp! Lord, what sounds I've heerd! The + devil's i' the hearse, for sure!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Simmy,” the one-ey'd gaffer expostulated, “thou dostn' think the + smoky King is a-took in, same as they poor folks upstairs? Tee-hee! Lord, + what a trick!—to come for Master Tingcomb, an' find—aw dear!—aw, + bless my old ribs, what a thing is humor!” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” grunted the minister. The end of the coffin was tilted up into + the hearse. “Push, old varmint!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye-push, push! Where be my young, active sinews? What a shrivell'd + garment is all my comeliness! 'The devil inside,' says Simmy—haw, + haw!” + </p> + <p> + “Burn the thing! 'twon't go in for the tool box. Push, thou cackling old + worms!” + </p> + <p> + “Now so I be, but my natural strength is abated. 'Yo-heave ho!' like the + salted seafardingers upstairs. Push, push!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my inwards!” groans poor Matt, under his breath, into whom the chest + was squeezing sorely. + </p> + <p> + “Right at last!” says the minister. “Now, Simmy, nay lad, hand the reins + an' jump up. There's room, an' you'll be wanted.” + </p> + <p> + The door was clapp'd-to, the three rogues climb'd upon the seat in front: + and we started. + </p> + <p> + I hope I may never be call'd to pass such another half hour as that which + follow'd. As soon as the wheels left turf for the hard road, 'twas jolt, + jolt all the way; and this lying mainly down hill, the chest and coffin + came grinding into our ribs, and pressing till we could scarce breathe. + And I dared not climb out over them, for fear the fellows should hear us; + their chuckling voices coming quite plain to us from the other side of the + panel. I held out, and comforted Matt, as well as I could, feeling sure we + should find Master Tingcomb at our journey's end. Soon we climb'd a hill, + which eas'd us a little; but shortly after were bumping down again, and + suffering worse than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Save us,” moan'd Matt, “where will this end?” + </p> + <p> + The words were scarce out, when we turn'd sharp to the right, with a jolt + that shook our teeth together, roll'd for a little while over smooth + grass, and drew up. + </p> + <p> + I heard the fellows climbing down, and got my pistols out. + </p> + <p> + “Simmy,” growl'd the minister, “where's the lantern?” + </p> + <p> + There was a minute or so of silence, and then the snapping of flint and + steel, and the sound of puffing. + </p> + <p> + “Lit, Simmy?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, here 'tis.” + </p> + <p> + “Fetch it along then.” + </p> + <p> + The handle of the door was turn'd, and a light flash'd into the hearse. + </p> + <p> + “Here, hold the lantern steady! Come hither, old Squeaks, and help wi' the + end.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely I will. Well was I call'd Young Look-alive when a gay, fleeting + boy. Simmy, my son, thou'rt sadly drunken. O youth, youth! Thou + winebibber, hold the light steady, or I'll tell thy mammy!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, I do mortally dread the devil an' all his works!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, if ever! The devil,' says he—an' Master Tingcomb still livin', + an' in his own house awaitin' us!” + </p> + <p> + Be sure, his words were as good as a slap in the face to me. For I had + counted the hearse to lead me straight to Master Tingcomb himself. “In his + own house,” too! A fright seiz'd me for Delia. But first I must deal with + these scoundrels, who already were dragging out the coffin. + </p> + <p> + “Steady there!” calls the minister. The coffin was more than halfway + outside. I levell'd my pistol over the edge of the tool chest, and fetch'd + a yell fit to wake a ghost—at the same time letting fly straight for + the minister. + </p> + <p> + In the flash of the discharge, I saw him, half-turn'd, his eyes starting, + and mouth agape. He clapp'd his hand to his shoulder. On top of his wild + shriek, broke out a chorus of screams and oaths, in the middle of which + the coffin tilted up and went over with a crash. “Satan—Satan!” + bawled Simmy, and, dropping the lantern, took to his heels for dear life. + At the same moment the horses took fright; and before I could scramble + out, we were tearing madly away over the turf and into the darkness. I had + made a sad mess of it. + </p> + <p> + It must have been a full minute before the hedge turn'd them, and gave me + time to drop out at the back and run to their heads. Matt. Soames was + after me, quick as thought, and very soon we mastered them, and gathering + up the reins from between their legs, led them back. As luck would have + it, the lantern had not been quench'd by the fall, but lay flaring, and so + guided us. Also a curious bright radiance seem'd growing on the sky, for + which I could not account. The three knaves were nowhere to be seen, but I + heard their footsteps scampering in the distance, and Simmy still yelling + “Satan!” I knew my bullet had hit the minister; but he had got away, and I + never set eyes on any of the three again. + </p> + <p> + Leaving Matt to mind the horses, I caught up the lantern, and look'd about + me. As well as could be seen, we were in a narrow meadow between two + hills, whereof the black slopes rose high above us. Some paces to the + right, my ear caught the noise of a stream running. + </p> + <p> + I turn'd the lantern on the coffin, which lay face downward, and with a + gasp took in the game those precious rogues had been playing. For, with + the fall of it, the boards (being but thin) were burst clean asunder; and + on both sides had tumbled out silver cups, silver saltcellars, silver + plates and dishes, that in the lantern's rays sparkled prettily on the + turf. The coffin, in short, was stuff'd with Delia's silverware. + </p> + <p> + I had pick'd up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the + inscription, when Matt. Soames call'd to me, and pointed over the hill in + front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” said he, “'tis a fire out yonder!” + </p> + <p> + “God help us, Matt.—'tis the House of Gleys!” + </p> + <p> + It took but two minutes to toss the silver back into the hearse. I + clapp'd-to the door, and snatching the reins, sprang upon the driver's + seat. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH + MY COMRADE. + </h2> + <p> + We had some ado to find the gate: but no sooner were through, and upon the + high road, than I lash'd the horses up the hill at a gallop. To guide us + between the dark hedges we had only our lantern and the glare ahead. The + dishes and cups clash'd and rattled as the hearse bump'd in the ruts, + swaying wildly: a dozen times Matt, was near being pitch'd clean out of + his seat. With my legs planted firm, I flogg'd away like a madman; and + like mad creatures the horses tore upward. + </p> + <p> + On the summit a glance show'd us all—the wild crimson'd sky—the + sea running with lines of fire—and against it the inky headland + whereon the House of Gleys flar'd like a beacon. Already from one wing—<i>our</i> + wing—a leaping column of flame whirl'd up through the roof, and was + swept seaward in smoke and sparks. I mark'd the coast line, the cliff + tracks, the masts and hull of the <i>Godsend</i> standing out, clear as + day; and nearer, the yellow light flickering over the fields of young + corn. We saw all this, and then were plunging down hill, with the blaze + full ahead of us. The heavy reek of it was flung in our nostrils as we + gallop'd. + </p> + <p> + At the bottom we caught up a group of men running. 'Twas a boatload come + from the ship to help. As our horses swept past them, one or two came to a + terrified halt; but presently were running hard again after us. + </p> + <p> + The great gate stood open. I drove straight into the bright-lit yard, + shouting “Delia!—where is Delia?” + </p> + <p> + “Here!” call'd a voice; and from a group that stood under the glare of the + window came my dear mistress running. + </p> + <p> + “All safe, Jack! But what—” She drew back from our strange equipage. + </p> + <p> + “All in good time. First tell me—how came the fire?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, foul work, as it seems. All I know is I was sleeping, and awoke to + hear the black seaman hammering on my door. Jumping up, I found the room + full of smoke, and escap'd. The rooms beneath, they say, were stuff'd with + straw, and the yard outside heap'd also with straw, and blazing. Ben + Halliday found two oil jars lying there—” + </p> + <p> + “Are the horses out?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack—I do not know! Shame on me to forget them!” + </p> + <p> + I ran toward the stable. Already the roof was ablaze, and the straw yard, + beyond, a very furnace. Rushing in, I found the two horses cowering in + their stalls, bath'd in sweat, and squealing. But 'twas all fright. So I + fetch'd Molly's saddle, and spoke to her, and set it across her back: and + the sweet thing was quiet in a moment, turning her head to rub my sleeve + gently with her muzzle: and followed me out like a lamb. The bay gave more + trouble; but I sooth'd him in the same manner, and patting his neck, led + him, too, into safety. + </p> + <p> + By this, all hope to save the house was over: for the well in the court + yielded but twenty buckets before it ran dry, and after that no water was + to be had. Of the wing where the fire burst out only the walls stood, and + a few oaken rafters, that one by one came tumbling and crashing. The + flames had spread along the roof, and were now licking the ceiling of the + hall and spouting around the clock tower. In the roar and hubbub, Billy's + men work'd like demons, dragging out chairs, chests, and furniture of all + kinds, which they strew'd in the yard, returning with shouts for more. One + was tearing down the portraits in the hall: another was pulling out the + great dresser from the kitchen: a third had found a pile of tapestry and + came staggering forth under the load of it. + </p> + <p> + I had fasten'd the horses by the gate, and was ready to join in the work, + when a shout was rais'd—- + </p> + <p> + “Billy!—Where's Billy Pottery? Has any seen the skipper?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” I call'd, “you don't say he was never alarm'd!” + </p> + <p> + “Black Sampson was in his room—where's Black Sampson?” + </p> + <p> + “Here I be!” cried a voice. “To be sure I woke the skipper before any o' + ye.” + </p> + <p> + “Then where's he hid? Did any see him come out?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, that we have not!” answer'd one or two. + </p> + <p> + I stood by the house door shouting these questions to the men inside, when + a hand was laid on my arm, and there in the shadow waited Billy himself, + with a mighty curious twinkle in his eye. He put a finger up and signed + that I should follow. + </p> + <p> + We pass'd round the outbuildings where, three hours before, Matt. Soames + and I had hid together. I was minded to stop and pull on my boots, that + were hid here: but (and this was afterward the saving of me) on second + thoughts let them lie, and follow'd Billy, who now led me out by the + postern gate. + </p> + <p> + Without speech we stepp'd across the turf, he a pace or two ahead. A night + breeze was blowing here, delicious after the heat of the fire. We were + walking quickly toward the east side of the headland, and soon the blaze + behind flung our shadows right to the cliff's edge, for which Billy made + straight, as if to fling himself over. + </p> + <p> + But when, at the very verge, he pull'd up, I became enlighten'd. At our + feet was an iron bar driven into the soil, and to it a stout rope knotted, + that ran over a block and disappeared down the cliff. I knelt and, pulling + at it softly, look'd up. It came easy in the hand. + </p> + <p> + Billy, with the glare in his face, nodded: and bending to my ear, for once + achiev'd a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Saw one stealing hither—an' follow'd. A man wi' a limp foot—went + over the side like a cat.” + </p> + <p> + I must have appeared to doubt this good fortune, for he added—- + </p> + <p> + “'Be a truth speakin' man i' the main, Jack—'lay over 'pon my belly, + and spied a ledge—fifty feet down or less—'reckon there be a + way thence to the foot. Dear, now! what a rampin', tearin' sweat is this?” + </p> + <p> + For, fast as I could tug, I was hauling up the rope. Near sixty feet came + up before I reach'd the end—a thick twisted knot. I rove a long + noose; pull'd it over my head and shoulders, and made Billy understand he + was to lower me. + </p> + <p> + “Sit i' the noose, lad, an' hold round the knot. For sign to hoist again, + tug the rope hard. I can hold.” + </p> + <p> + He paid it out carefully while I stepp'd to the edge. With the noose about + my loins I thrust myself gently over, and in a trice hung swaying. + </p> + <p> + On three sides the sky compass'd me—wild and red, save where to + eastward the dawn was paling: on the fourth the dark rocky face seem'd + gliding upward as Billy lower'd. Far below I heard the wash of the sea, + and could just spy the white spume of it glimmering. It stole some of the + heart out of me, and I took my eyes off it. + </p> + <p> + Some feet below the top, the cliff fetch'd a slant inward, so that I + dangled a full three feet out from the face. As a boy I had adventured + something of this sort on the north sides of Gable and the Pillar, and + once (after a nest of eaglets) on the Mickledore cliffs: but then 'twas + daylight. Now, tho' I saw the ledge under me, about a third of the way + down, it look'd, in the darkness, to be so extremely narrow, that 'tis + probable I should have call'd out to Billy to draw me up but for the + certainty that he would never hear: so instead I held very tight and + wish'd it over. + </p> + <p> + Down I sway'd (Billy letting out the rope very steady), and at last swung + myself inward to the ledge, gain'd a footing, and took a glance round + before slipping off the rope. + </p> + <p> + I stood on a shelf of sandy rock that wound round the cliff some way to my + left, and then, as I thought, broke sharply away. 'Twas mainly about a + yard in width, but in places no more than two feet. In the growing light I + noted the face of the headland ribb'd with several of these ledges, of + varying length, but all hollow'd away underneath (as I suppose by the sea + in former ages), so that the cliff's summit overhung the base by a great + way: and peering over I saw the waves creeping right beneath me. + </p> + <p> + Now all this while I had not let Master Tingcomb out of my mind. So I + slipp'd off the rope and left it to dangle, while I crept forward to + explore, keeping well against the rock and planting my feet with great + caution. + </p> + <p> + I believe I was twenty minutes taking as many steps, when at the point + where the ledge broke off I saw the ends of an iron ladder sticking up, + and close beside it a great hole in the rock, which till now the curve of + the cliff had hid. The ladder no doubt stood on a second shelf below. + </p> + <p> + I was pausing to consider this, when a bright ray stream'd across the sea + toward me, and the red rim of the sun rose out of the waters, outfacing + the glow on the headland, and rending the film of smoke that hung like a + curtain about the horizon. 'Twas as if by alchemy that the red ripples + melted to gold; and I stood watching with a child's delight. + </p> + <p> + I heard the sound of a footstep: and fac'd round. + </p> + <p> + Before me, not six paces off, stood Hannibal Tingcomb. + </p> + <p> + He was issuing from the hole with a sack on his shoulder, and sneaking to + descend the steps, when he threw a glance behind—and saw me! + </p> + <p> + Neither spoke. With a face grey as ashes he turn'd very slowly, until in + the unnatural light we look'd straight into each other's eyes. His never + blink'd, but stared—stared horribly, while the veins swell'd black + on his forehead and his lips work'd, attempting speech. No words came—only + a long drawn sob, deep down in his throat. + </p> + <p> + And then, letting slip the sack, he flung his arms up, ran a pace or two + toward me, and tumbled on his face in a fit. His left shoulder hung over + the verge; his legs slipp'd. In a trice he was hanging by his arms, his + old distorted face turn'd up, and a froth about his lips. I made a step to + save him: and then jump'd back, flattening myself against the rock. + </p> + <p> + The ledge was breaking. + </p> + <p> + I saw a seam gape at my feet. I saw it widen and spread to right and left. + I heard a ripping, rending noise—a rush of stones and earth: and, + clawing the air, with a wild screech, Master Tingcomb pitch'd backward, + head over heels, into space. + </p> + <p> + Then follow'd silence: then a horrible splash as he struck the water, far + below: then again a slipping and trickling, as more of the ledge broke + away—at first a pebble or two sliding—a dribble of earth—next, + a crash and a cloud of dust. A last stone ran loose and dropp'd. Then fell + a silence so deep I could catch the roar of the flames on the hill behind. + </p> + <p> + Standing there, my arms thrown back and fingers spread against the rock, I + saw a wave run out, widen, and lose itself on the face of the sea. Under + my feet but eight inches of the cornice remain'd. My toes stuck forward + over the gulf. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: The ledge was breaking.} + </p> + <p> + A score of startled gulls with their cries call'd me to myself. I open'd + my eyes, that had shut in sheer giddiness. Close on my left the ledge was + broke back to the very base, cutting me off by twelve feet from that part + where the ladder still rested. No man could jump it, standing. To the + right there was no gap: but in one place only was the footing over ten + inches wide, and at the end my rope hung over the sea, a good yard away + from the edge. + </p> + <p> + I shut my eyes and shouted. + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. In the dead stillness I could hear the rafters + falling in the House of Gleys, and the shouts of the men at work. The <i>Godsend</i> + lay around the point, out of sight. And Billy, deaf as a stone, sat no + doubt by his rope, placidly waiting my signal. + </p> + <p> + I scream'd again and again. The rock flung my voice seaward. Across the + summit vaulted above, there drifted a puff of brown smoke. No one heard. + </p> + <p> + A while of weakness followed. My brain reel'd: my fingers dug into the + rock behind till they bled. I bent forward—forward over the heaving + mist through which the sea crawl'd like a snake. It beckon'd me down, that + crawling water.... + </p> + <p> + I stiffened my knees and the faintness pass'd. I must not look down again. + It flashed on me that Delia had call'd me weak: and I hardened my heart to + fight it out. I would face round to the cliff and work toward the rope. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a hateful moment while I turned: for to do so I must let go with one + hand. And the rock thrust me outward. But at last I faced the cliff; + waited a moment while my knees shook; and moving a foot cautiously to the + left, began to work my way along, an inch at a time. + </p> + <p> + Looking down to guide my feet, I saw the waves twinkling beneath my heels. + My palms press'd the rock. At every three inches I was fain to rest my + forehead against it and gasp. Minute after minute went by—endless, + intolerable, and still the rope seem'd as far away as ever. A cold sweat + ran off me: a nausea possessed me. Once, where the ledge was widest, I + sank on one knee, and hung for a while incapable of movement. But a black + horror drove me on: and after the first dizzy stupor my wits were + mercifully wide awake. Sure, 'twas God's miracle preserv'd them to me, who + looking at the sea and cliff and pitiless sun, had almost denied Him and + his miracles together. + </p> + <p> + All the way I kept shouting: and so, for half an hour, inch by inch, + shuffled forward, until I stood under the rope. Then I had to turn again. + </p> + <p> + The rock, tho' still overarching, here press'd out less than before: so + that, working round on the ball of my foot, I managed pretty easily. But + how to get the rope? As I said, it hung a good yard beyond the ledge, the + noose dangling some two feet below it. With my finger tips against the + cliff, I lean'd out and clutch'd at it. I miss'd it by a foot. “Shall I + jump?” thought I, “or bide here till help comes?” + </p> + <p> + 'Twas a giddy, awful leap. But the black horror was at my heels now. In a + minute more 'twould have me; and then my fall was certain. I call'd up + Delia's face as she had taunted me. I bent my knees, and, leaving my hold + of the rock, sprang forward—out, over the sea. + </p> + <p> + I saw it twinkle, fathoms below. My right hand touch'd—grasp'd the + rope: then my left, as I swung far out upon it. I slipp'd an inch—three + inches—then held, swaying wildly. My foot was in the noose. I heard + a shout above: and, as I dropp'd to a sitting posture, the rope began to + rise. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! Oh, Billy, pull quick!” + </p> + <p> + He could not hear; yet tugg'd like a Trojan. + </p> + <p> + “Now, here's a time to keep a man sittin'!” he shouted, as he caught my + hand, and pull'd me full length on the turf. “Why, lad—hast seen a + ghost?” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. The black horror had overtaken me at last. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + They carried me to a shed in the great court of Gleys, and set me on + straw: and there, till far into the afternoon, I lay betwixt swooning and + trembling, while Delia bath'd my head in water from the sea, for no other + was to be had. And about four in the afternoon the horror left me, so that + I sat up and told my story pretty steadily. + </p> + <p> + “What of the house?” I ask'd, when the tale was done, and a company sent + to search the east cliff from the beach. + </p> + <p> + “All perish'd!” said Delia, and then smiling, “I am houseless as ever, + Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “And have the same good friends.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true. But listen—for while you have lain here, Billy and I + have put our heads together. He is bound for Brest, he says, and has + agreed to take me and such poor chattels as are saved, to Brittany, where + I know my mother's kin will have a welcome for me, until these troubles be + pass'd. Already the half of my goods is aboard the <i>Godsend</i>, and a + letter writ to Sir Bevill, begging him to appoint an honest man as my + steward. What think you of the plan?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems a good plan,” I answer'd slowly: “the England that now is, is no + place for a woman. When do you sail?” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as you are recovered, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “Then that's now.” I got on my feet, and drew on my boots (that Matt. + Soames had found in the laurel bushes and brought). My knees trembled a + bit, but nothing to matter. + </p> + <p> + “Art looking downcast, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + Said I: “How else should I look, that am to lose thee in an hour or more?” + </p> + <p> + She made no reply to this, but turned away to give an order to the + sailors. + </p> + <p> + The last of Delia's furniture was hardly aboard, when we heard great + shouts of joy, and saw the men returning that had gone to search the + cliff. They bore between them three large oak coffers: which being broke, + we came on an immense deal of old plate and jewels, besides over L300 in + coined money. There were two more left behind, they said, besides several + small bags of gold. The path up the cliff was hard to climb, and would + have been impossible, but for the iron ladder they found ready fix'd for + Master Tingcomb's descent. In the hole (that could not be seen from the + beach, the shelf hiding it) was tackle for lowering the chest: and below a + boat moor'd, and now left high and dry by the tide. Doubtless, the + arch-rascal had waited for his comrades to return, whom Matt. Soames and I + had scar'd out of all stomach to do so. His body was nowhere found. + </p> + <p> + The sea had wash'd it off: but the sack they recover'd, and found to hold + the choicest of Delia's heirlooms. Within an hour the remaining coffers + and the money bags were safe in the vessel's hold. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + The sun was setting, as Delia and I stood on the beach, beside the boat + that was to take her from me. Aboard the <i>Godsend</i> I could hear the + anchor lifting, and the men singing, as, holding Molly's bridle, I held + out my hand to the dear maid who with me had shar'd so many a peril. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any more to come?” she ask'd. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, and God knows my heart was heavy: “nothing to come but + 'Farewell!'” + </p> + <p> + She laid her small hand in my big palm, and glancing up, said very pretty + and demur— + </p> + <p> + “<i>And shall I leave my best? Wilt not come, too, dear Jack?</i>” + </p> + <p> + “Delia!” I stammer'd. “What is this? I thought you lov'd me not.” + </p> + <p> + “And so did I, Jack: and thinking so, I found I loved thee better than + ever. Fie on thee, now! May not a maid change her mind without being + forced to such unseemly, brazen words?” And she heav'd a mock sigh. + </p> + <p> + But as I stood and held that little hand, I seem'd across the very mist of + happiness to read a sentence written, and spoke it, perforce and slow, as + with another man's mouth— + </p> + <p> + “Delia, you only have I lov'd, and will love! Blithe would I be to live + with you, and to serve you would blithely die. In sorrow, then, call for + me, or in trust abide me. But go with you now—I may not.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her eyes, and looking full into mine, repeated slowly the verse + we had read at our first meeting— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'In a wife's lap, as in a grave, + Man's airy notions mix with earth—' +—thou hast found it, sweetheart—thou has found the Splendid Spur!” + </pre> + <p> + She broke off, and clapp'd her hands together very merrily; and then, as a + tear started— + </p> + <p> + “But thou'lt come for me, ere long, Jack? Else I am sure to blame some + other woman. Stay—” + </p> + <p> + She drew off her ring, and slipp'd it on my little finger. + </p> + <p> + “There's my token! Now give me one to weep and be glad over.” + </p> + <p> + Having no trinkets, I gave my glove: and she kiss'd it twice, and put it + in her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “I have no need of this ring,” said I: “for look!” and I drew forth the + lock I had cut from her dear head, that morning among the alders by Kennet + side, and worn ever since over my heart. + </p> + <p> + “Wilt marry no man till I come?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, that's too hard a promise,” said she, laughing, and shaking her + curls. + </p> + <p> + “Too hard!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course. Listen, sweetheart—a true woman will not change her + mind: but, oh! she dearly loves to be able to! So, bating this, here's my + hand upon it—now, fie, Jack! and before all these mariners!—well, + then if thou <i>must</i>—” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + I watch'd her standing in the stern and waving, till she was under the <i>Godsend's</i> + side: then turn'd, and mounting Molly, rode inland to the wars. + </p> + <h3> + THE END. + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Splendid Spur, by Arthur T. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Splendid Spur + +Author: Arthur T. Quiller Couch + + +Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6437] +This file was first posted on December 14, 2002 +Last Updated: July 3, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPLENDID SPUR *** + + + + +Produced by Karl Hagen, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + +THE SPLENDID SPUR + +Being Memoirs of The Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, A Servant of His +Late Majesty King Charles I., In The Years 1642-3: Written by Himself: +Edited in Modern English by Q (Arthur T. Quiller Couch) + +By Arthur T. Quiller Couch + +1897 + + + +[Illustration: "I loved thee so, boy Jack."] + + +TO + +EDWARD GWYNNE EARDLEY-WILMOT. + +_MY DEAR EDDIE, + +Whatever view a story-teller may take of his business, 'tis happy when +he can think, "This book of mine will please such and such a friend," +and may set that friend's name after the title page. For even if to +please (as some are beginning to hold) should be no part of his aim, +at least 'twill always be a reward: and (in unworthier moods) next to a +Writer I would choose to be a Lamplighter, as the only other that gets +so cordial a "God bless him!" in the long winter evenings. + +To win such a welcome at such a time from a new friend or two would be +the happiest fortune for my tale. But to you I could wish it to speak +particularly, seeing that under the coat of_ JACK MARVEL _beats the +heart of your friend_ + +Q. + +_Torquay, August 22d_, 1889. + + + + + +INTRODUCTORY NOTE. + +"Q." + +A year or two ago it was observed that three writers were using the +curiously popular signature "Q." This was hardly less confusing than +that one writer should use three signatures (Grant Allen, Arbuthnot +Wilson, and Anon), but as none of the three was willing to try another +letter, they had to leave it to the public (whose decision in such +matters is final) to say who is Q to it. The public said, Let him wear +this proud letter who can win it, and for the present at least it is +in the possession of the author of "The Splendid Spur" and "The Blue +Pavilions." It would seem, too, as if it were his "to keep," for "Q" is +like the competition cups that are only yours for a season, unless you +manage to carry them three times in succession. Mr. Quiller-Couch has +been champion Q since 1890. + +The interesting question is not so much, What has he done to be the only +prominent Q of these years, as Is he to be the Q of all time? If so, he +will do better work than he has yet done, though several of his latest +sketches--and one in particular--are of very uncommon merit. Mr. +Quiller-Couch is so unlike Mr. Kipling that one immediately wants to +compare them. They are both young, and they have both shown such promise +that it will be almost sad if neither can write a book to live--as, +of course, neither has done as yet. Mr. Kipling is the more audacious, +which is probably a matter of training. He was brought up in India, +where one's beard grows much quicker than at Oxford, and where you not +only become a man (and a cynic) in a hurry, but see and hear strange +things (and print them) such as the youth of Oxford miss, or, becoming +acquainted with, would not dare insert in the local magazine of the +moment. So Mr. Kipling's first work betokened a knowledge of the world +that is by no means to be found in "Dead Man's Rock," the first book +published by Mr. Quiller-Couch. On the other hand, it cannot truly be +said that Mr. Kipling's latest work is stronger than his first, while +the other writer's growth is the most remarkable thing about him. It +is precisely the same Mr. Kipling who is now in the magazines that was +writing some years ago in India (and a rare good Mr. Kipling too), but +the Mr. Quiller-Couch of to-day is the Quiller-Couch of "Dead Man's +Rock" grown out of recognition. To compare their styles is really to +compare the men. Mr. Kipling's is the more startling, the stronger (as +yet), and the more mannered. Mark Twain, it appears, said he reads Mr. +Kipling for his style, which is really the same thing as saying you read +him for his books, though the American seems only to have meant that +he eats the beef because he likes the salt. It is a journalistic style, +aiming too constantly at sharp effects, always succeeding in getting +them. Sometimes this is contrived at the expense of grammar, as when (a +common trick with the author) he ends a story with such a paragraph as +"Which is manifestly unfair." Mr. Quiller-Couch has never sinned in this +way, but his first style was somewhat turgid, even melodramatic, and, +compared with Mr. Kipling's, lacked distinction. From the beginning Mr. +Kipling had the genius for using the right word twice in three +times (Mr. Stevenson only misses it about once in twelve), while +Mr. Quiller-Couch not only used the wrong word, but weighted it with +adjectives. The charge, however, cannot be brought against him to-day, +for having begun by writing like a Mr. Haggard not quite sure of himself +(if one can imagine such a Mr. Haggard), and changing to an obvious +imitation of Mr. Stevenson, he seems now to have made a style for +himself. It is clear and careful, but not as yet strong winged. Its +distinctive feature is that it is curiously musical. + +"Dead Man's Rock" is a capital sensational story to be read and at once +forgotten. It was followed by "The Astonishing History of Troy Town," +which was humorous, and proved that the author owed a debt to Dickens. +But it was not sufficiently humorous to be remarkable for its humor, and +it will go hand in hand with "Dead Man's Rock" to oblivion. Until "The +Splendid Spur" appeared Mr. Quiller-Couch had done little to suggest +that an artist had joined the ranks of the story-tellers. It is not in +anyway a great work, but it was among the best dozen novels of its year, +and as the production of a new writer it was one of the most notable. +About the same time was published another historical romance of the +second class (for to nothing short of Sir Walter shall we give a +first-class in this department), "Micah Clarke," by Mr. Conan Doyle. It +was as inevitable that the two books should be compared as that he who +enjoyed the one should enjoy the other. In one respect "Micah Clarke" is +the better story. It contains one character, a soldier of fortune, who +is more memorable than any single figure in "The Splendid Spur." This, +however, is effected at a cost, for this man is the book. It contains, +indeed, two young fellows, one of them a John Ridd, but no Diana Vernon +would blow a kiss to either. Both stories are weak in pathos, despite +Joan, but there are a score of humorous situations in "The Splendid +Spur" that one could not forget if he would--which he would not--as, for +instance, where hero and heroine are hidden in barrels in a ship, and +hero cries through his bunghole, "Wilt marry me, sweetheart?" to which +heroine replies, "Must get out of this cask first." Better still is the +scene in which Captain Billy expatiates, with a mop and a bucket, on the +merits of his crew. But the passages are for reading, not for hearing +about. Of the characters, this same Captain Billy is not the worst, but +perhaps the best is Joan, Mr. Quiller-Couch's first successful picture +of a girl. A capital eccentric figure is killed (some good things +are squandered in this book) just when we are beginning to find him a +genuine novelty. Anything that is ready to leap into danger seems to +be thought good enough for the hero of a fighting romance, so that Jack +Marvel will pass (though Delia, as is right and proper, is worth two of +him, despite her coming-on disposition). The villain is a failure, and +the plot poor. Nevertheless there are some ingenious complications in +it. Jack's escape by means of the hangman's rope, which was to send him +out of the world in a few hours, is a fine rollicking bit of sensation. +Where Mr. Quiller-Couch and Mr. Conan Doyle both fail as compared with +the great master of romance is in the introduction of historical figures +and episodes. Scott would have been a great man if he had written no +novel but "The Abbott" (one of his second best), and no part of +"The Abbott" but the scene in which Mary signs away her crown. Mr. +Quiller-Couch almost entirely avoids such attempts, and even Mr. Conan +Doyle only dips into them timidly. There is, one has been told, a theory +that the romancist has no right to picture history in this way. But he +makes his rights when he does it as Scott did it. + +Since "The Splendid Spur," Mr. Quiller-Couch has published nothing in +book form which can be considered an advance on his best novel, but +there have appeared by him a number of short Cornish sketches, which are +perhaps best considered as experiments. They are perilously slight, and +where they are successful one remembers them as sweet dreams or like a +bar of music. All aim at this effect, so that many should not be taken +at a time, and some (as was to be expected with such delicate work) +miss their mark. It might be said that in several of these melodies +Mr. Quiller-Couch has been writing the same thing again and again, +determined to succeed absolutely, if not this time then the next, and +if not the next time then the time after. In one case he has succeeded +absolutely. "The Small People," is a prose "Song of the Shirt." To my +mind this is a rare piece of work, and the biggest thing for its size +that has been done in English fiction for some years. + +These sketches have been called experiments. They show (as his books +scarcely show) that Mr. Quiller-Couch can feel. They suggest that he may +be able to do for Cornwall what Mr. Hardy has done for Dorset--though +the methods of the two writers are as unlike as their counties. But that +can only be if in filling his notebook with these little comedies and +tragedies Mr. Quiller-Couch is preparing for more sustained efforts. + + "Our hope and heart is with thee + We will stand and mark." + +J. M. BARRIE. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + +I. THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE "CROWN" + +II. THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN + +III. I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL; AND BARELY ESCAPE + +IV. I TAKE THE ROAD + +V. MY ADVENTURE AT THE "THREE CUPS" + +VI. THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD + +VII. I FIND A COMRADE + +VIII. I LOSE THE KING'S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL + +IX I BREAK OUT OF PRISON + +X. CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE + +XI. I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE; AND AM WELL TREATED THERE + +XII. HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK +DOWN + +XIII. I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR; AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL +TINGCOMB + +XIV. I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS + +XV. I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS + +XVI. THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH + +XVII. I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT + +XVIII. JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE + +XIX THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE + +XX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE + + + +THE SPLENDID SPUR. + +CHAPTER I. + +THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE "CROWN." + + +He that has jilted the Muse, forsaking her gentle pipe to follow the +drum and trumpet, shall fruitlessly besiege her again when the time +comes to sit at home and write down his adventures. 'Tis her revenge, +as I am extremely sensible: and methinks she is the harder to me, upon +reflection how near I came to being her lifelong servant, as you are to +hear. + +'Twas on November 29th, Ao. 1642--a clear, frosty day--that the King, +with the Prince of Wales (newly recovered of the measles), the Princes +Rupert and Maurice, and a great company of lords and gentlemen, horse +and foot, came marching back to us from Reading. I was a scholar of +Trinity College in Oxford at that time, and may begin my history at +three o'clock on the same afternoon, when going (as my custom was) to +Mr. Rob. Drury for my fencing lesson, I found his lodgings empty. + +They stood at the corner of Ship Street, as you turn into the Corn +Market--a low wainscoted chamber, ill-lighted but commodious. "He is off +to see the show," thought I as I looked about me; and finding an easy +cushion in the window, sat down to await him. Where presently, being +tired out (for I had been carrying a halberd all day with the scholars' +troop in Magdalen College Grove), and in despite of the open lattice, I +fell sound asleep. + +It must have been an hour after that I awoke with a chill (as was +natural), and was stretching out a hand to pull the window close, but +suddenly sat down again and fell to watching instead. + +The window look'd down, at the height of ten feet or so, upon a +bowling-green at the back of the "Crown" Tavern (kept by John Davenant, +in the Corn Market), and across it to a rambling wing of the same inn; +the fourth side--that to my left--being but an old wall, with a +broad sycamore growing against it. 'Twas already twilight; and in the +dark'ning house, over the green, was now one casement brightly lit, the +curtains undrawn, and within a company of noisy drinkers round a table. +They were gaming, as was easily told by their clicking of the dice and +frequent oaths: and anon the bellow of some tipsy chorus would come +across. 'Twas one of these catches, I dare say, that woke me: only just +now my eyes were bent, not toward the singers, but on the still lawn +between us. + +The sycamore, I have hinted, was a broad tree, and must, in summer, have +borne a goodly load of leaves: but now, in November, these were strewn +thick over the green, and nothing left but stiff, naked boughs. Beneath +it lay a crack'd bowl or two on the rank turf, and against the trunk a +garden bench rested, I suppose for the convenience of the players. On +this a man was now seated. + +He was reading in a little book; and this first jogged my curiosity: for +'twas unnatural a man should read print at this dim hour, or, if he had +a mind to try, should choose a cold bowling-green for his purpose. Yet +he seemed to study his volume very attentively, but with a sharp look, +now and then, toward the lighted window, as if the revellers disturb'd +him. His back was partly turn'd to me; and what with this and the +growing dusk, I could but make a guess at his face: but a plenty of +silver hair fell over his fur collar, and his shoulders were bent a +great deal. I judged him between fifty and sixty. For the rest, he wore +a dark, simple suit, very straitly cut, with an ample furr'd cloak, and +a hat rather tall, after the fashion of the last reign. + +Now, why the man's behavior so engaged me, I don't know: but at the +end of half an hour I was still watching him. By this, 'twas near +dark, bitter cold, and his pretence to read mere fondness: yet he +persevered--though with longer glances at the casement above, where the +din at times was fit to wake the dead. + +And now one of the dicers upsets his chair with a curse, and gets on his +feet. Looking up, I saw his features for a moment--a slight, pretty boy, +scarce above eighteen, with fair curls and flush'd cheeks like a girl's. +It made me admire to see him in this ring of purple, villainous faces. +'Twas evident he was a young gentleman of quality, as well by his +bearing as his handsome cloak of amber satin barr'd with black. "I think +the devil's in these dice!" I heard him crying, and a pretty hubbub all +about him: but presently the drawer enters with more wine, and he sits +down quietly to a fresh game. + +As soon as 'twas started, one of the crew, that had been playing but was +now dropp'd out, lounges up from his seat, and coming to the casement +pushes it open for fresh air. He was one that till now had sat in full +view--a tall bully, with a gross pimpled nose; and led the catches in +a bull's voice. The rest of the players paid no heed to his rising; and +very soon his shoulders hid them, as he lean'd out, drawing in the cold +breath. + +During the late racket I had forgot for a while my friend under the +sycamore, but now, looking that way, to my astonishment I saw him +risen from his bench and stealing across to the house opposite. I say +"stealing," for he kept all the way to the darker shadow of the wall, +and besides had a curious trailing motion with his left foot as though +the ankle of it had been wrung or badly hurt. + +As soon as he was come beneath the window he stopped and called softly-- + +"Hist!" + +The bully gave a start and look'd down. I could tell by this motion he +did not look to find anyone in the bowling-green at that hour. Indeed he +had been watching the shaft of light thrown past him by the room behind, +and now moved so as to let it fall on the man that addressed him. + +The other stands close under the window, as if to avoid this, and calls +again-- + +"Hist!" says he, and beckons with a finger. + +The man at the window still held his tongue (I suppose because those +in the room would hear him if he spoke), and so for a while the two men +studied one another in silence, as if considering their next moves. + +After a bit, however, the bully lifted a hand, and turning back into the +lighted room, walks up to one of the players, speaks a word or two and +disappears. + +I sat up on the window seat, where till now I had been crouching for +fear the shaft of light should betray me, and presently (as I was +expecting) heard the latch of the back perch gently lifted, and spied +the heavy form of the bully coming softly over the grass. + +Now, I would not have my readers prejudiced, and so may tell them this +was the first time in my life I had played the eavesdropper. That I +did so now I can never be glad enough, but 'tis true, nevertheless, my +conscience pricked me; and I was even making a motion to withdraw when +that occurred which would have fixed any man's attention, whether he +wish'd it or no. + +The bully must have closed the door behind him but carelessly, for +hardly could he take a dozen steps when it opened again with a scuffle, +and the large house dog belonging to the "Crown" flew at his heels with +a vicious snarl and snap of the teeth. + +'Twas enough to scare the coolest. But the fellow turn'd as if shot, and +before he could snap again, had gripped him fairly by the throat. The +struggle that follow'd I could barely see, but I heard the horrible +sounds of it--the hard, short breathing of the man, the hoarse +rage working in the dog's throat--and it turned me sick. The dog--a +mastiff--was fighting now to pull loose, and the pair swayed this way +and that in the dusk, panting and murderous. + +I was almost shouting aloud--feeling as though 'twere my own throat thus +gripp'd--when the end came. The man had his legs planted well apart. + +I saw his shoulders heave up and bend as he tightened the pressure of +his fingers; then came a moment's dead silence, then a hideous gurgle, +and the mastiff dropped back, his hind legs trailing limp. + +The bully held him so for a full minute, peering close to make sure he +was dead, and then without loosening his hold, dragged him across the +grass under my window. By the sycamore he halted, but only to shift his +hands a little; and so, swaying on his hips, sent the carcase with a +heave over the wall. I heard it drop with a thud on the far side. + +During this fierce wrestle--which must have lasted about two +minutes--the clatter and shouting of the company above had gone on +without a break; and all this while the man with the white hair had +rested quietly on one side, watching. But now he steps up to where the +bully stood mopping his face (for all the coolness of the evening), and, +with a finger between the leaves of his book, bows very politely. + +"You handled that dog, sir, choicely well," says he, in a thin voice +that seemed to have a chuckle hidden in it somewhere. + +The other ceased mopping to get a good look at him. + +"But sure," he went on, "'twas hard on the poor cur, that had never +heard of Captain Lucius Higgs--" + +I thought the bully would have had him by the windpipe and pitched him +after the mastiff, so fiercely he turn'd at the sound of this name. But +the old gentleman skipped back quite nimbly and held up a finger. + +"I'm a man of peace. If another title suits you better--" + +"Where the devil got you that name?" growled the bully, and had half a +mind to come on again, but the other put in briskly-- + +"I'm on a plain errand of business. No need, as you hint, to mention +names; and therefore let me present myself as Mr. Z. The residue of the +alphabet is at your service to pick and choose from." + +"My name is Luke Settle," said the big man hoarsely (but whether this +was his natural voice or no I could not tell). + +"Let us say 'Mr. X.' I prefer it." + +The old gentleman, as he said this, popped his head on one side, laid +the forefinger of his right hand across the book, and seem'd to be +considering. + +"Why did you throttle that dog a minute ago?" he asked sharply. + +"Why, to save my skin," answers the fellow, a bit puzzled. + +"Would you have done it for fifty pounds?" + +"Aye, or half that." + +"And how if it had been a _puppy_, Mr. X?" + +Now all this from my hiding I had heard very clearly, for they stood +right under me in the dusk. But as the old gentleman paused to let +his question sink in, and the bully to catch the drift of it before +answering, one of the dicers above struck up to sing a catch---- + + "With a hey, trolly-lolly! a leg to the Devil, + And answer him civil, and off with your cap: + Sing--Hey, trolly-lolly! Good-morrow, Sir Evil, + We've finished the tap, + And, saving your worship, we care not a rap!" + +While this din continued, the stranger held up one forefinger again, as +if beseeching silence, the other remaining still between the pages of +his book. + +"Pretty boys!" he said, as the noise died away; "pretty boys! 'Tis +easily seen they have a bird to pluck." + +"He's none of my plucking." + +"And if he were, why not? Sure you've picked a feather or two before now +in the Low Countries--hey?" + +"I'll tell you what," interrupts the big man, "next time you crack one +of your death's-head jokes, over the wall you go after the dog. What's +to prevent it?" + +"Why, this," answers the old fellow, cheerfully. "There's money to be +made by doing no such thing. And I don't carry it all about with me. So, +as 'tis late, we'd best talk business at once." + +They moved away toward the seat under the sycamore, and now their words +reached me no longer--only the low murmur of their voices or (to be +correct) of the elder man's: for the other only spoke now and then, to +put a question, as it seemed. Presently I heard an oath rapped out +and saw the bully start up. "Hush, man!" cried the other, and "hark-ye +now--"; so he sat down again. Their very forms were lost within the +shadow. I, myself, was cold enough by this time and had a cramp in +one leg--but lay still, nevertheless. And after awhile they stood up +together, and came pacing across the bowling-green, side by side, the +older man trailing his foot painfully to keep step. You may be sure I +strain'd my ears. + +"--besides the pay," the stranger was saying, "there's all you can win +of this young fool, Anthony, and all you find on the pair, which I'll +wager--" + +They passed out of hearing, but turned soon, and came back again. The +big man was speaking this time. + +"I'll be shot if I know what game _you're_ playing in this." + +The elder chuckled softly. "I'll be shot if I mean you to," said he. + +And this was the last I heard. For now there came a clattering at the +door behind me, and Mr. Robert Drury reeled in, hiccuping a maudlin +ballad about "_Tib and young Colin, one fine day, beneath the haycock +shade-a_," &c., &c., and cursing to find his fire gone out, and all in +darkness. Liquor was ever his master, and to-day the King's health had +been a fair excuse. He did not spy me, but the roar of his ballad +had startled the two men outside, and so, while he was stumbling over +chairs, and groping for a tinder-box, I slipp'd out in the darkness, and +downstairs into the street. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN, + +Guess, any of you, if these events disturbed my rest that night. 'Twas +four o'clock before I dropp'd asleep in my bed in Trinity, and my last +thoughts were still busy with the words I had heard. Nor, on the morrow, +did it fair any better with me: so that, at rhetoric lecture, our +president--Dr. Ralph Kettle--took me by the ears before the whole +class. He was the fiercer upon me as being older than the gross of my +fellow-scholars, and (as he thought) the more restless under discipline. +"A tutor'd adolescence," he would say, "is a fair grace before meat," +and had his hourglass enlarged to point the moral for us. But even +a rhetoric lecture must have an end, and so, tossing my gown to the +porter, I set off at last for Magdalen Bridge, where the new barricado +was building, along the Physic Garden, in front of East Gate. + +The day was dull and low'ring, though my wits were too busy to heed +the sky; but scarcely was I past the small gate in the city wall when a +brisk shower of hail and sleet drove me to shelter in the Pig Market +( or _Proscholium_) before the Divinity School. 'Tis an ample vaulted +passage, as I dare say you know; and here I found a great company of +people already driven by the same cause. + +To describe them fully 'twould be necessary to paint the whole state of +our city in those distracted times, which I have neither wit nor time +for. But here, to-day, along with many doctors and scholars, were +walking courtiers, troopers, mountebanks, cut-purses, astrologers, +rogues and gamesters; together with many of the first ladies and +gentlemen of England, as the Prince Maurice, the lords Andover, Digby +and Colepepper, my lady Thynne, Mistress Fanshawe, Mr. Secretary +Nicholas, the famous Dr. Harvey, arm-in-arm with my lord Falkland (whose +boots were splash'd with mud, he having ridden over from his house +at Great Tew), and many such, all mix'd in this incredible tag-rag. +Mistress Fanshawe, as I remember, was playing on a lute, which she +carried always slung about her shoulders: and close beside her, a fellow +impudently puffing his specific against the _morbus campestris_, which +already had begun to invade us. + +"_Who'll buy?_" he was bawling. "'_Tis from the receipt of a famous +Italian, and never yet failed man, woman, nor child, unless the heart +were clean drown'd in the disease: the lest part of it good muscadine, +and has virtue against the plague, smallpox, or surfeits!_" + +I was standing before this jackanapes, when I heard a stir in the crowd +behind me, and another calling, "_Who'll buy? Who'll buy?_" + +Turning, I saw a young man, very gaily dressed, moving quickly about at +the far end of the Pig Market, and behind him an old lackey, bent double +with the weight of two great baskets that he carried. The baskets were +piled with books, clothes, and gewgaws of all kinds; and 'twas the young +gentleman that hawked his wares himself. "_What d'ye lack?_" he kept +shouting, and would stop to unfold his merchandise, holding up now a +book, and now a silk doublet, and running over their merits like any +huckster--but with the merriest conceit in the world. + +And yet 'twas not this that sent my heart flying into my mouth at the +sight of him. For by his curls and womanish face, no less than the amber +cloak with the black bars, I knew him at once for the same I had seen +yesterday among the dicers. + +As I stood there, drawn this way and that by many reflections, he worked +his way through the press, selling here and there a trifle from his +baskets, and at length came to a halt in front of me. + +"Ha!" he cried, pulling off his plumed hat, and bowing low, "a scholar, +I perceive. Let me serve you, sir. Here is the 'History of Saint +George,'" and he picked out a thin brown quarto and held it up; "written +by Master Peter Heylin; a ripe book they tell me (though, to be sure, I +never read beyond the title), and the price a poor two shillings." + +[Illustration: "A scholar, I perceive. Let me serve you sir?"--Page 30.] + +Now, all this while I was considering what to do. So, as I put my hand +in my pocket, and drew out the shillings, I said very slowly, looking +him in the eyes (but softly, so that the lackey might not hear)---- + +"So thus you feed your expenses at the dice: and my shilling, no doubt, +is for Luke Settle, as well as the rest." + +For the moment, under my look, he went white to the lips; then +clapped his hand to his sword, withdrew it, and answered me, red as a +turkey-cock---- + +"Shalt be a parson, yet, Master Scholar: but art in a damn'd hurry, it +seems." + +Now, I had ever a quick temper, and as he turned on his heel, was like +to have replied and raised a brawl. My own meddling tongue had brought +the rebuff upon me: but yet my heart was hot as he walked away. + +I was standing there and looking after him, turning over in my hand the +"Life of Saint George," when my fingers were aware of a slip of paper +between the pages. Pulling it out, I saw 'twas scribbled over with +writing and figures, as follows:-- + +"Mr. Anthony Killigrew, his acct for Oct. 25th, MDCXLII.--_For +herrings_, 2d.; _for coffie_, 4d.; _for scowring my coat_, 6d.; _at +bowls_, 5s. 10d.; _for bleading me_, 1s. 0d.; _for ye King's speech_, +3d.; _for spic'd wine (with Marjory)_, 2s. 4d.; _for seeing ye +Rhinoceros_, 4d.; _at ye Ranter-go-round_, 6 3/4d.; _for a pair of +silver buttons_, 2s. 6d.; _for apples_, 2 1/2d.; _for ale_, 6d.; _at ye +dice_, L17 5s.; _for spic'd wine (again)_, 4s. 6d." + +And so on. + +As I glanced my eye down this paper, my anger oozed away, and a great +feeling of pity came over me, not only at the name of Anthony--the name +I had heard spoken in the bowling-green last night--but also to see +that monstrous item of L17 odd spent on the dice. 'Twas such a boy, too, +after all, that I was angry with, that had spent fourpence to see the +rhinoceros at a fair, and rode on the ranter-go-round (with "Marjory," +no doubt, as 'twas for her, no doubt, the silver buttons were bought). +So that, with quick forgiveness, I hurried after him, and laid a hand on +his shoulder. + +He stood by the entrance, counting up his money, and drew himself up +very stiff. + +"I think, sir," said I, "this paper is yours." + +"I thank you," he answered, taking it, and eyeing me. "Is there +anything, besides, you wished to say?" + +"A great deal, maybe, if your name be Anthony." + +"Master Anthony Killigrew is my name, sir; now serving under Lord +Bernard Stewart in His Majesty's troop of guards." + +"And mine is Jack Marvel," said I. + +"Of the Yorkshire Marvels?" + +"Why, yes; though but a shoot of that good stock, transplanted to +Cumberland, and there sadly withered." + +"'Tis no matter, sir," said he politely; "I shall be proud to cross +swords with you." + +"Why, bless your heart!" I cried out, full of laughter at this childish +punctilio; "d'ye think I came to fight you?" + +"If not, sir"--and he grew colder than ever--"you are going a cursed +roundabout way to avoid it." + +Upon this, finding no other way out of it, I began my tale at once: but +hardly had come to the meeting of the two men on the bowling-green, when +he interrupts me politely---- + +"I think, Master Marvel, as yours is like to be a story of some moment, +I will send this fellow back to my lodgings. He's a long-ear'd dog that +I am saving from the gallows for so long as my conscience allows me. The +shower is done, I see; so if you know of a retir'd spot, we will talk +there more at our leisure." + +He dismiss'd his lackey, and stroll'd off with me to the Trinity Grove, +where, walking up and down, I told him all I had heard and seen the +night before. + +"And now," said I, "can you tell me if you have any such enemy as this +white-hair'd man, with the limping gait?" + +He had come to a halt, sucking in his lips and seeming to reflect-- + +"I know one man," he began: "but no--'tis impossible." + +As I stood, waiting to hear more, he clapp'd his hand in mine, very +quick and friendly: "Jack," he cried;--"I'll call thee Jack--'twas an +honest good turn thou hadst in thy heart to do me, and I a surly rogue +to think of fighting--I that could make mincemeat of thee." + +"I can fence a bit," answer'd I. + +"Now, say no more, Jack: I love thee." + +He look'd in my face, still holding my hand and smiling. Indeed, there +was something of the foreigner in his brisk graceful ways--yet not +unpleasing. I was going to say I had never seen the like--ah, me! that +both have seen and know the twin image so well. + +"I think," said I, "you had better be considering what to do." + +He laugh'd outright this time; and resting with his legs cross'd, +against the trunk of an elm, twirl'd an end of his long lovelocks, and +looked at me comically. Said he: "Tell me, Jack, is there aught in me +that offends thee?" + +"Why, no," I answered. "I think you're a very proper young man--such as +I should loathe to see spoil'd by Master Settle's knife." + +"Art not quick at friendship, Jack, but better at advising; only in this +case fortune has prevented thy good offices. Hark ye," he lean'd forward +and glanc'd to right and left, "if these twain intend my hurt--as indeed +'twould seem--they lose their labor: for this very night I ride from +Oxford." + +"And why is that?" + +"I'll tell thee, Jack, tho' I deserve to be shot. I am bound with a +letter from His Majesty to the Army of the West, where I have friends, +for my father's sake--Sir Deakin Killigrew of Gleys, in Cornwall. 'Tis a +sweet country, they say, tho' I have never seen it." + +"Not seen thy father's country?" + +"Why no--for he married a Frenchwoman, Jack, God rest her dear +soul!"--he lifted his hat--"and settled in that country, near Morlaix, +in Brittany, among my mother's kin; my grandfather refusing to see or +speak with him, for wedding a poor woman without his consent. And in +France was I born and bred, and came to England two years agone; and +this last July the old curmudgeon died. So that my father, who was an +only son, is even now in England returning to his estates: and with him +my only sister Delia. I shall meet them on the way. To think of it!" +(and I declare the tears sprang to his eyes): "Delia will be a woman +grown, and ah! to see dear Cornwall together!" + +Now I myself was only a child, and had been made an orphan when but nine +years old, by the smallpox that visited our home in Wastdale Village, +and carried off my father, the Vicar, and my dear mother. Yet his simple +words spoke to my heart and woke so tender a yearning for the small +stone cottage, and the bridge, and the grey fells of Yewbarrow above it, +that a mist rose in my eyes too, and I turn'd away to hide it. + +"'Tis a ticklish business," said I after a minute, "to carry the King's +letter. Not one in four of his messengers comes through, they say. But +since it keeps you from the dice----" + +"That's true. To-night I make an end." + +"To-night!" + +"Why, yes. To-night I go for my revenge, and ride straight from the inn +door." + +"Then I go with you to the 'Crown,'" I cried, very positive. + +He dropp'd playing with his curl, and look'd me in the face, his mouth +twitching with a queer smile. + +"And so thou shalt Jack: but why?" + +"I'll give no reason," said I, and knew I was blushing. + +"Then be at the corner of All Hallows' Church in Turl Street at seven +to-night. I lodge over Master Simon's, the glover, and must be about +my affairs. Jack,"--he came near and took my hand--"am sure thou lovest +me." + +He nodded, with another cordial smile, and went his way up the grove, +his amber cloak flaunting like a belated butterfly under the leaf less +trees; and so pass'd out of my sight. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL: AND BARELY ESCAPE. + + +It wanted, maybe, a quarter to seven, that evening, when, passing out +at the College Gate on my way to All Hallows' Church, I saw under the +lantern there a man loitering and talking with the porter. 'Twas Master +Anthony's lackey; and as I came up, he held out a note for me. + +Deare Jack + +Wee goe to the "Crowne" at VI. o'clock, I having mett with Captain +Settle, who is on dewty with the horse tonite, and must to Abendonn by +IX. I looke for you-- + +Your unfayned loving + +A. K. + +The bearer has left my servise, and his helth conserus me nott. Soe kik +him if he tarrie. + +This last advice I had no time to carry out with any thoroughness: but +being put in a great dread by this change of hour, pelted off toward the +Corn Market as fast as legs could take me, which was the undoing of a +little round citizen into whom I ran full tilt at the corner of Balliol +College: who, before I could see his face in the darkness, was tipp'd on +his back in the gutter and using the most dismal expressions. So I left +him, considering that my excuses would be unsatisfying to his present +demands, and to his cooler judgment a superfluity. + +The windows of the "Crown" were cheerfully lit behind their red blinds. +A few straddling grooms and troopers talked and spat in the brightness +of the entrance, and outside in the street was a servant leading up and +down a beautiful sorrel mare, ready saddled, that was mark'd on the near +hind leg with a high white stocking. In the passage, I met the host +of the "Crown," Master John Davenant, and sure (I thought) in what +odd corners will the Muse pick up her favorites! For this slow, +loose-cheek'd vintner was no less than father to Will Davenant, our +Laureate, and had belike read no other verse in his life but those at +the bottom of his own pint-pots. + +"Top of the stairs," says he, indicating my way, "and open the door +ahead of you, if y'are the young gentleman Master Killigrew spoke of." + +I had my foot on the bottom step, when from the room above comes the +crash of a table upsetting, with a noise of broken glass, chairs thrust +back, and a racket of outcries. Next moment, the door was burst open, +letting out a flood of light and curses; and down flies a drawer, three +steps at a time, with a red stain of wine trickling down his white face. + +"Murder!" he gasped out; and sitting down on a stair, fell to mopping +his face, all sick and trembling. + +I was dashing past him, with the landlord at my heels, when three men +came tumbling out at the door, and downstairs. I squeezed myself against +the wall to let them pass: but Master Davenant was pitch'd to the very +foot of the stairs. And then he picked himself up and ran out into the +Corn Market, the drawer after him, and both shouting "Watch! Watch!" +at the top of their lungs; and so left the three fellows to push by +the women already gathered in the passage, and gain the street at their +ease. All this happen'd while a man could count twenty; and in half a +minute I heard the ring of steel and was standing in the doorway. + +There was now no light within but what was shed by the fire and +two tallow candles that gutter'd on the mantelshelf. The remaining +candlesticks lay in a pool of wine on the floor, amid broken glasses, +bottles, scattered coins, dice boxes and pewter pots. In the corner to +my right cower'd a potboy, with tankard dangling in his hand, and the +contents spilling into his shoes. His wide terrified eyes were fix'd on +the far end of the room, where Anthony and the brute Settle stood, with +a shattered chair between them. Their swords were cross'd in tierce, and +grating together as each sought occasion for a lunge: which might have +been fair enough but for a dog-fac'd trooper in a frowsy black periwig, +who, as I enter'd, was gathering a handful of coins from under the +fallen table, and now ran across, sword in hand, to the Captain's aid. + +'Twas Anthony that fac'd me, with his heel against the wainscoting, and, +catching my cry of alarm, he call'd out cheerfully over the Captain's +shoulder, but without lifting his eyes-- + +"Just in time, Jack! Take off the second cur, that's a sweet boy!" + +Now I carried no sword; but seizing the tankard from the potboy's hand, +I hurl'd it at the dog-fac'd trooper. It struck him fair between the +shoulder blades; and with a yell of pain he spun round and came toward +me, his point glittering in a way that turn'd me cold. I gave back a +pace, snatch'd up a chair (that luckily had a wooden seat) and with my +back against the door, waited his charge. + +'Twas in this posture that, flinging a glance across the room, I saw the +Captain's sword describe a small circle of light, and next moment, with +a sharp cry, Anthony caught at the blade, and stagger'd against the +wall, pinn'd through the chest to the wainscoting. + +"Out with the lights, Dick!" bawl'd Settle, tugging out his point. +"Quick, fool--the window!" + +Dick, with a back sweep of his hand, sent the candles flying off the +shelf; and, save for the flicker of the hearth, we were in darkness. +I felt, rather than saw, his rush toward me; leap'd aside; and brought +down my chair with a crash on his skull. He went down like a ninepin, +but scrambled up in a trice, and was running for the window. + +There was a shout below as the Captain thrust the lattice open: another, +and the two dark forms had clambered through the purple square of the +casement, and dropped into the bowling-green below. + +By this, I had made my way across the room, and found Anthony sunk +against the wall, with his feet outstretched. There was something he +held out toward me, groping for my hand and at the same time whispering +in a thick, choking voice-- + +"Here, Jack, here: pocket it quick!" + +'Twas a letter, and as my fingers closed on it they met a damp smear, +the meaning of which was but too plain. + +"Button it--sharp--in thy breast: now feel for my sword." + +"First let me tend thy hurt, dear lad." + +"Nay--quickly, my sword! 'Tis pretty, Jack, to hear thee say 'dear lad.' +A cheat to die like this--could have laugh'd for years yet. The dice +were cogg'd--hast found it?" + +I groped beside him, found the hilt, and held it up. + +"So--'tis thine, Jack: and my mare, Molly, and the letter to take. Say +to Delia--Hark! they are on the stairs. Say to--" + +With a shout the door was flung wide, and on the threshold stood the +Watch, their lanterns held high and shining in Anthony's white face, and +on the black stain where his doublet was thrown open. + +In numbers they were six or eight, led by a small, wrynecked man that +held a long staff, and wore a gilt chain over his furr'd collar. Behind, +in the doorway, were huddled half a dozen women, peering: and Master +Davenant at the back of all, his great face looming over their shoulders +like a moon. + +"Now, speak up, Master Short!" + +"Aye, that I will--that I will: but my head is considering of affairs," +answered Master Short--he of the wryneck. "One, two, three--" He look'd +round the room, and finding but one capable of resisting (for the potboy +was by this time in a fit), clear'd his throat, and spoke up-- + +"In the king's name, I arrest you all--so help me God! Now what's the +matter?" + +"Murder," said I, looking up from my work of staunching Anthony's wound. + +"Then forbear, and don't do it." + +"Why, Master Short, they've been forbearin' these ten minutes," a +woman's voice put in. + +"Hush, and hear Master Short: he knows the law, an' all the dubious +maxims of the same." + +"Aye, aye: he says forbear i' the King's name, which is to say, that +other forbearing is neither law nor grace. Now then, Master Short!" + +Thus exhorted, the man of law continued-- + +"I charge ye as honest men to disperse!" + +"Odds truth, Master Short, why you've just laid 'em under arrest!" + +"H'm, true: then let 'em stay so--in the king's name--and have done with +it." + +Master Short, in fact, was growing testy: but now the women push'd +by him, and, by screaming at the sight of blood, put him out of all +patience. Dragging them back by the skirts, he told me he must take the +depositions, and pull'd out pen and ink horn. + +"Sirs," said I, laying poor Anthony's head softly back, "you are too +late: whilst ye were cackling my friend is dead." + +"Then, young man, thou must come along." + +"Come along?" + +"The charge is _homocidium_, or manslaying, with or without malice +prepense--" + +"But--" I look'd round. The potboy was insensible, and my eyes fell on +Master Davenant, who slowly shook his head. + +"I'll say not a word," said he, stolidly: "lost twenty pound, one time, +by a lawsuit." + +"Pack of fools!" I cried, driven beyond endurance. "The guilty ones have +escap'd these ten minutes. Now stop me who dares!" + +And dashing my left fist on the nose of a watchman who would have seized +me, I clear'd a space with Anthony's sword, made a run for the casement, +and dropp'd out upon the bowling-green. + +A pretty shout went up as I pick'd myself off the turf and rush'd for +the back door. 'Twas unbarr'd, and in a moment I found myself tearing +down the passage and out into the Corn Market, with a score or so +tumbling downstairs at my heels, and yelling to stop me. Turning sharp +to my right, I flew up Ship Street, and through the Turl, and doubled +back up the High Street, sword in hand. The people I pass'd were too far +taken aback, as I suppose, to interfere. But a many must have join'd in +the chase: for presently the street behind me was thick with the clatter +of footsteps and cries of "A thief--a thief! Stop him!" + +At Quater Voies I turn'd again, and sped down toward St. Aldate's, +thence to the left by Wild Boar Street, and into St. Mary's Lane. By +this, the shouts had grown fainter, but were still following. Now I knew +there was no possibility to get past the city gates, which were +well guarded at night. My hope reach'd no further than the chance of +outwitting the pursuit for a while longer. In the end I was sure the +potboy's evidence would clear me, and therefore began to enjoy the fun. +Even my certain expulsion from College on the morrow seem'd of a piece +with the rest of events and (prospectively) a matter for laughter. For +the struggle at the "Crown" had unhinged my wits, as I must suppose and +you must believe, if you would understand my behavior in the next half +hour. + +A bright thought had struck me: and taking a fresh wind, I set off again +round the corner of Oriel College, and down Merton Street toward Master +Timothy Carter's house, my mother's cousin. This gentleman--who was town +clerk to the Mayor and Corporation of Oxford--was also in a sense my +guardian, holding it trust about L200 (which was all my inheritance), +and spending the same jealously on my education. He was a very small, +precise lawyer, about sixty years old, shaped like a pear, with a +prodigious self-important manner that came of associating with great +men: and all the knowledge I had of him was pick'd up on the rare +occasions (about twice a year) that I din'd at his table. He had early +married and lost an aged shrew, whose money had been the making of him: +and had more respect for law and authority than any three men in Oxford. +So that I reflected, with a kind of desperate hilarity, on the greeting +he was like to give me. + +This kinsman of mine had a fine house at the east end of Merton Street +as you turn into Logic Lane: and I was ten yards from the front door, +and running my fastest, when suddenly I tripp'd and fell headlong. + +Before I could rise, a hand was on my shoulder, and a voice speaking in +my ear-- + +"Pardon, comrade. We are two of a trade, I see." + +'Twas a fellow that had been lurking at the corner of the lane, and had +thrust out a leg as I pass'd. He was pricking up his ears now to the +cries of "Thief--thief!" that had already reach'd the head of the +street, and were drawing near. + +"I am no thief," said I. + +"Quick!" He dragged me into the shadow of the lane. "Hast a crown in thy +pocket?" + +"Why?" + +"Why, for a good turn. I'll fog these gentry for thee. Many thanks, +comrade," as I pull'd out the last few shillings of my pocket money. +"Now pitch thy sword over the wall here, and set thy foot on my hand. +'Tis a rich man's garden, t'other side, that I was meaning to explore +myself; but another night will serve." + +"'Tis Master Carter's," said I; "and he's my kinsman." + +"The devil!--but never mind, up with thee! Now mark a pretty piece of +play. 'Tis pity thou shouldst be across the wall and unable to see." + +He gave a great hoist: catching at the coping of the wall, I pull'd +myself up and sat astride of it. + +"Good turf below--ta-ta, comrade!" + +By now, the crowd was almost at the corner. Dropping about eight feet on +to good turf, as the fellow had said, I pick'd myself up and listen'd. + +"Which way went he?" call'd one, as they came near. + +"Down the street!" "No: up the lane!'" "Hush!" "Up the lane, I'll be +sworn." "Here, hand the lantern!" &c., &c. + +While they debated, my friend stood close on the other side of the wall: +but now I heard him dash suddenly out, and up the lane for his life. +"There he goes!" "Stop him!" the cries broke out afresh. "Stop him, i' +the king's name!" The whole pack went pelting by, shouting, stumbling, +swearing. + +For two minutes or more the stragglers continued to hurry past by ones +and twos. As soon as their shouts died away, I drew freer breath and +look'd around. + +I was in a small, turfed garden, well stock'd with evergreen shrubs, +at the back of a tall house that I knew for Master Carter's. But what +puzzled me was a window in the first floor, very brightly lit, and +certain sounds issuing therefrom that had no correspondence with my +kinsman's reputation. + + "It was a frog leap'd into a pool-- + Fol--de--riddle, went souse in the middle! + Says he, This is better than moping in school. + With a--" + +"--Your Royal Highness, have some pity! What hideous folly! Oh, dear, +dear--" + + "With a fa-la-tweedle-tweedle, + Tiddifol-iddifol-ido!" + +"--Your Royal Highness, I _cannot_ sing the dreadful stuff! Think of my +grey hairs!" + +"Tush! Master Carter--nonsense; 'tis choicely well sung. Come, brother, +the chorus!" + + "With a fa-la--" + + +And the chorus was roar'd forth, with shouts of laughter and clinking +of glasses. Then came an interval of mournful appeal, and my kinsman's +voice was again lifted---- + + "He scattered the tadpoles, and set 'em agog, + Hey! nod-noddy-all head and no body! + Oh, mammy! Oh, minky!--" + +"--O, mercy, mercy! it makes me sweat for shame." + +Now meantime I had been searching about the garden, and was lucky enough +to find a tool shed, and inside of this a ladder hanging, which now I +carried across and planted beneath the window. I had a shrewd notion of +what I should find at the top, remembering now to have heard that the +Princes Rupert and Maurice were lodging with Master Carter: but the +truth beat all my fancies. + +For climbing softly up and looking in, I beheld my poor kinsman perch'd +on his chair a-top of the table, in the midst of glasses, decanters, and +desserts: his wig askew, his face white, save where, between the eyes, +a medlar had hit and broken, and his glance shifting wildly between the +two princes, who in easy postures, loose and tipsy, lounged on either +side of him, and beat with their glasses on the board. + +"Bravissimo! More, Master Carter--more!" + + "O mammy, O nunky, here's cousin Jack Frog-- + With a fa-la--" + +I lifted my knuckles and tapp'd on the pane; whereon Prince Maurice +starts up with an oath, and coming to the window, flings it open. + +"Pardon, your Highness," said I, and pull'd myself past him into the +room, as cool as you please. + +'Twas worth while to see their surprise. Prince Maurice ran back to the +table for his sword: his brother (being more thoroughly drunk) dropped +a decanter on the floor, and lay back staring in his chair. While as for +my kinsman, he sat with mouth wide and eyes starting, as tho' I were +a very ghost. In the which embarrassment I took occasion to say, very +politely-- + +"Good evening, nunky!" + +"Who the devil is this?" gasps Prince Rupert. + +"Why the fact is, your Highnesses," answered I, stepping up and laying +my sword on the table, while I pour'd out a glass, "Master Timothy +Carter here is my guardian, and has the small sum of L200 in his +possession for my use, of which I happen to-night to stand in immediate +need. So you see--" I finished the sentence by tossing off a glass. +"This is rare stuff!" I said. + +"Blood and fury!" burst out Prince Rupert, fumbling for his sword, and +then gazing, drunk and helpless. + +"Two hundred pound! Thou jackanapes--" began Master Carter. + +"I'll let you off with fifty to-night," said I. + +"Ten thousand--!" + +"No, fifty. Indeed, nunky," I went on, "'tis very simple. I was at the +'Crown' tavern--" + +"At a tavern!" + +"Aye, at a game of dice--" + +"Dice!" + +"Aye, and a young man was killed--" + +"Thou shameless puppy! A man murder'd!" + +"Aye, nunky; and the worst is they say 'twas I that kill'd him." + +"He's mad. The boy's stark raving mad!" exclaim'd my kinsman. "To come +here in this trim!" + +"Why, truly, nunky, thou art a strange one to talk of appearances. Oh, +dear!" and I burst into a wild fit of laughing, for the wine had warm'd +me up to play the comedy out. "To hear thee sing + + "'With a fa--la--tweedle--tweedle!' + +and--Oh, nunky, that medlar on thy face is so funny!" + +"In Heaven's name, stop!" broke in the Prince Maurice. "Am I mad, or +only drunk? Rupert, if you love me, say I am no worse than drunk." + +"Lord knows," answer'd his brother. "I for one was never this way +before." + +"Indeed, your Highnesses be only drunk," said I, "and able at that to +sign the order that I shall ask you for." + +"An order!" + +"To pass the city gates to-night." + +"Oh, stop him somebody," groan'd Prince Rupert: "my head is whirling." + +"With your leave," I explain'd, pouring out another glassful: "tis the +simplest matter, and one that a child could understand. You see, this +young man was kill'd, and they charg'd me with it; so away I ran, and +the Watch after me; and therefore I wish to pass the city gates. And as +I may have far to travel, and gave my last groat to a thief for hoisting +me over Master Carter's wall--" + +"A thief--my wall!" repeated Master Carter. "Oh well is thy poor mother +in her grave!" + +"--Why, therefore I came for money," I wound up, sipping the wine, and +nodding to all present. + +'Twas at this moment that, catching my eye, the Prince Maurice slapp'd +his leg, and leaning back, broke into peal after peal of laughter. And +in a moment his brother took the jest also; and there we three sat and +shook, and roar'd unquenchably round Master Carter, who, staring blankly +from one to another, sat gaping, as though the last alarm were sounding +in his ears. + +"Oh! oh! oh! Hit me on the back, Maurice!" + +"Oh! oh! I cannot--'tis killing me--Master Carter, for pity's sake, look +not so; but pay the lad his money." + +"Your Highness----" + +"Pay it I say; pay it: 'tis fairly won." + +"Fifty pounds!" + +"Every doit," said I: "I'm sick of schooling." + +"Be hang'd if I do!" snapp'd Master Carter. + +"Then be hang'd, sir, but all the town shall hear to-morrow of the frog +and the pool! No, sir: I am off to see the world---- + + "'Says he: "This is better than moping in school!"'" + +"Your Highnesses," pleaded the unhappy man, "if, to please you, I sang +that idiocy, which, for fifty years now, I had forgotten----" + +"Exc'll'nt shong," says Prince Rupert, waking up; "less have't again!" + + * * * * * + +To be short, ten o'clock was striking from St. Mary's spire when, with a +prince on either side of me, and thirty guineas in my pocket (which was +all the loose gold he had), I walked forth from Master Carter's door. To +make up the deficiency, their highnesses had insisted on furnishing +me with a suit made up from the simplest in their joint +wardrobes--riding-boots, breeches, buff-coat, sash, pistols, cloak, and +feather'd hat, all of which fitted me excellently well. By the doors of +Christ Church, before we came to the south gate, Prince Rupert, who had +been staggering in his walk, suddenly pull'd up, and leaned against the +wall. + +"Why--odd's my life--we've forgot a horse for him!" he cried. + +"Indeed, your Highness," I answered, "if my luck holds the same, I shall +find one by the road." (How true this turned out you shall presently +hear.) + +There was no difficulty at the gate, where the sentry recogniz'd the two +princes and open'd the wicket at once. Long after it had clos'd behind +me, and I stood looking back at Oxford towers, all bath'd in the winter +moonlight, I heard the two voices roaring away up the street: + + "It was a frog leap'd into a pool--" + +At length they died into silence; and, hugging the king's letter in my +breast, I stepped briskly forward on my travels. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +I TAKE THE ROAD. + + +So puffed up was I by the condescension of the two princes, and my head +so busy with big thoughts, that not till I was over the bridges and +climbing the high ground beyond South Hincksey, with a shrewd northeast +wind at my back, could I spare time for a second backward look. By this, +the city lay spread at my feet, very delicate and beautiful in a silver +network, with a black clump or two to southward, where the line of +Bagley trees ran below the hill. I pulled out the letter that Anthony +had given me. In the moonlight the brown smear of his blood was plain to +see, running across the superscription: + +"_To our trusty and well beloved Sir Ralph Hopton, at our Army in +Cornwall--these._" + +'Twas no more than I look'd for; yet the sight of it and the king's red +seal, quicken'd my step as I set off again. And I cared not a straw for +Dr. Kettle's wrath on the morrow. + +Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay +around Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape +my course for Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. 'Tis not my +purpose to describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to reserve +my pen for those more moving events that overtook me later. Only in the +uncertain light I must have taken a wrong turn to the left (I think near +Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for, coming about daybreak +to a considerable town, I found it to be, not Faringdon, but Wantage. +There was no help for it, so I set about enquiring for a bed. The town +was full, and already astir with preparations for cattle-fair; and +neither at the "Bear" nor the "Three Nuns" was there a bed to be had. +But at length at the "Boot" tavern--a small house, I found one just +vacated by a couple of drovers, and having cozen'd the chambermaid to +allow me a clean pair of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in +five minutes was sleeping sound. + +I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of womankind. + +"He's waking," said one. + +"Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus--and he such a pretty young man!" + +This came from the landlady, who stood close, her hand shaking my +shoulder roughly. + +"What's amiss?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. + +"Why, 'tis three of the afternoon." + +"Then I'll get up, as soon as you retire." + +"Lud! we've been trying to wake thee this hour past; but 'twas +sleep--sleep!" + +"I'll get up, I tell you." + +"Thought thee'd ha' slept through the bed and right through to the +floor," said the chambermaid by the door, tittering. + +"Unless you pack and go, I'll step out amongst you all!" + +Whereat they fled with mock squeals, calling out that the very thought +made them blush: and left me to dress. + +Downstairs I found a giant's breakfast spread for me, and ate the hole, +and felt the better for it: and thereupon paid my scot, resisting the +landlady's endeavor to charge me double for the bed, and walked out to +see the town. + +"Take care o' thysel'," the chambermaid bawled after me; "nor flourish +thy attainments abroad, lest they put thee in a show!" + +Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended +purchasing a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over, the +cattle-pens broken up, and the dealers gather'd round the fiddlers, +ballad singers, and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming booths, too, +driving a brisk trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and Costly Colors; and +an eating tent, whence issued a thick reek of cooking and loud rattle of +plates. Over the entrance, I remember, was set a notice: "_Dame Alloway +from Bartholomew Fair. Here are the best geese, and she does them as +well as ever she did_." I jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my +pockets, for fear of cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the +street, there arose the noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward +it; and in a minute I was left alone, standing before a juggler who had +a sword halfway down his throat, and had to draw it out again before +he could with any sufficiency curse the defection of his audience; but +offered to pull out a tooth for me if I wanted it. + +I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn'd the cause of this +tumult. + +'Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking pockets: +and they were dragging him off to be duck'd. Now in the heart of Wantage +the little stream that runs through the town is widen'd into a cistern +about ten feet square, and five in depth, over which hung a ducking +stool for scolding wives. And since the townspeople draw their water +from this cistern, 'tis to be supposed they do not fear the infection. A +long beam on a pivot hangs out over the pool, and to the end is a chair +fasten'd; into which, despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped +this poor wretch, whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him. + +Souse! he was plunged: hauled up choking and dripping: then--just as he +found tongue to shriek--souse! again. + +'Twas a dismal punishment; and this time they kept him under for a full +half minute. But as the beam was lifted again, I heard a hullaballoo and +a cry-- + +"The bear! the bear!" + +And turning, I saw a great brown form lumbering down the street behind, +and driving the people before it like chaff. + +The crowd at the brink of the pool scatter'd to right and left, yelling. +Up flew the beam of the ducking stool, reliev'd of their weight, and +down with a splash went the pickpocket at the far end. As well for my +own skin's sake as out of pity to see him drowning, I jumped into the +water. In two strokes I reach'd him, gained footing, and with Anthony's +sword cut the straps away and pull'd him up. And there we stood, up to +our necks, coughing and spluttering; while on the deserted brink the +bear sniff'd at the water and regarded us. + +No doubt we appear'd contemptible enough: for after a time he turned +with a louder sniff, and went his way lazily up the street again. He had +broken out from the pit wherein, for the best part of the day, they had +baited him; yet seemed to bear little malice. For he saunter'd about +the town for an hour or two, hurting no man, but making a clean sweep +of every sweet stall in his way; and was taken at last very easily, with +his head in a treacle cask, by the bear ward and a few dogs. + +Meanwhile the pickpocket and I had scrambled out by the further bank and +wrung our clothes. He seemed to resent his treatment no more than did +the bear. + +"Ben cove--'tis a good world. My thanks!" + +And with this scant gratitude he was gone, leaving me to make my way +back to the sign of "The Boot," where the chambermaid led me upstairs, +and took away my clothes to dry by the fire. I determin'd to buy a +horse on the morrow, and with my guineas and the King's letter under the +pillow, dropp'd off to slumber again. + +My powers of sleep must have been nois'd abroad by the hostess: for next +morning at the breakfast ordinary, the dealers and drovers laid down +knife and fork to stare as I enter'd. After a while one or two lounged +out and brought in others to look: so that soon I was in a ring of +stupid faces, all gazing like so many cows. + +For a while I affected to eat undisturbed: but lost patience at last and +addressed a red-headed gazer---- + +"If you take me for a show, you ought to pay." + +"That's fair," said the fellow, and laid a groat on the board. This came +near to putting me in a passion, but his face was serious. "'Tis a real +pleasure," he added heartily, "to look on one so gifted." + +"If any of you," I said, "could sell me a horse----" + +At once there was a clamor, all bidding in one breath for my custom. So +finishing my breakfast, I walked out with them to the tavern yard, where +I had my pick among the sorriest-looking dozen of nags in England, and +finally bought from the red-haired man, for five pounds, bridle, saddle, +and a flea-bitten grey that seem'd more honestly raw-boned than the +rest. And the owner wept tears at the parting with his beast, and +thereby added a pang to the fraud he had already put upon me. And I rode +from the tavern door suspecting laughter in the eyes of every passer-by. + +The day ('twas drawing near noon as I started) was cold and clear, with +a coating of rime over the fields: and my horse's feet rang cheerfully +on the frozen road. His pace was of the soberest: but, as I was no +skilful rider, this suited me rather than not. Only it was galling to be +told so, as happened before I had gone three miles. + +'Twas my friend the pickpocket: and he sat before a fire of dry sticks a +little way back from the road. His scanty hair, stiff as a badger's, +now stood upright around his batter'd cap, and he look'd at me over the +bushes, with his hook'd nose thrust forward like a bird's beak. + +"Bien lightmans, comrade--good day! 'Tis a good world; so stop and +dine." + +I pull'd up my grey. + +"Glad you find it so," I answered; "you had a nigh chance to compare it +with the next, last night." + +"Shan't do so well i' the next, I fear," he said with a twinkle: "but +I owe thee something, and here's a hedgehog that in five minutes'll be +baked to a turn. 'Tis a good world, and the better that no man can count +on it. Last night my dripping duds helped me to a cant tale, and got me +a silver penny from a man of religion. Good's in the worst; and life's +like hunting the squirrel--a man gets much good exercise thereat, but +seldom what he hunts for." + +"That's as good morality as Aristotle's," said I. + +"'Tis better for _me_, because 'tis mine." While I tether'd my horse he +blew at the embers, wherein lay a good-sized ball of clay, baking. After +a while he look'd up with red cheeks. "They were so fast set on drowning +me," he continued with a wink, "they couldn't spare time to look i' my +pocket--the ruffin cly them!" + +He pull'd the clay ball out of the fire, crack'd it, and lo! inside was +a hedgehog cook'd, the spikes sticking in the clay, and coming away with +it. So he divided the flesh with his knife, and upon a slice of bread +from his wallet it made very delicate eating: tho' I doubt if I enjoyed +it as much as did my comrade, who swore over and over that the world +was good, and as the wintry sun broke out, and the hot ashes warm'd his +knees, began to chatter at a great pace. + +"Why, sir, but for the pretty uncertainty of things I'd as lief die here +as I sit----" + +He broke off at the sound of wheels, and a coach with two postillions +spun past us on the road. + +I had just time to catch a glimpse of a figure huddled in the corner, +and a sweet pretty girl with chestnut curls seated beside it, behind the +glass. After the coach came a heavy broad-shoulder'd servant riding on +a stout grey; who flung us a sharp glance as he went by, and at twenty +yards' distance turn'd again to look. + +"That's luck," observed the pickpocket, as the travelers disappear'd +down the highway: "Tomorrow, with a slice of it, I might be riding in +such a coach as that, and have the hydropsy, to boot. Good lack! when I +was ta'en prisoner by the Turks a-sailing i' the _Mary_ of London, +and sold for a slave at Algiers, I escap'd, after two months, with Eli +Sprat, a Gravesend man, in a small open boat. Well, we sail'd three +days and nights, and all the time there was a small sea bird following, +flying round and round us, and calling two notes that sounded for all +the world like 'Wind'ard! Wind'ard!' So at last says Eli, ''Tis heaven's +voice bidding us ply to wind'ard.' And so we did, and on the fourth day +made Marseilles; and who should be first to meet Eli on the quay but a +Frenchwoman he had married five years before, and left. And the jade had +him clapp'd in the pillory, alongside of a cheating fishmonger with a +collar of stinking smelts, that turn'd poor Eli's stomach completely. +Now there's somewhat to set against the story of Whittington next time +'tis told you." + +I was now for bidding the old rascal good-bye. But he offer'd to go with +me as far as Hungerford, where we should turn into the Bath road. At +first I was shy of accepting, by reason of his coat, wherein patches of +blue, orange-tawny and flame-color quite overlaid the parent black: but +closed with him upon his promise to teach me the horsemanship that I so +sadly lacked. And by time we enter'd Hungerford town I was advanced so +far, and bestrode my old grey so easily, that in gratitude I offer'd him +supper and bed at an inn, if he would but buy a new coat: to which he +agreed, saying that the world was good. + +By this, the day was clouded over and the rain coming down apace. So +that as soon as my comrade was decently array'd at the first slopshop +we came to, 'twas high time to seek an inn. We found quarters at "The +Horn," and sought the travelers' room, and a fire to dry ourselves. + +In this room, at the window, were two men who look'd lazily up at our +entrance. They were playing at a game, which was no other than to race +two snails up a pane of glass and wager which should prove the faster. + +"A wet day!" said my comrade, cheerfully. + +The pair regarded him. "I'll lay you a crown it clears within the hour!" +said one. + +"And I another," put in the other; and with that they went back to their +sport. + +Drawing near, I myself was soon as eager as they in watching the snails, +when my companion drew my notice to a piece of writing on the window +over which they were crawling. 'Twas a set of verses scribbled there, +that must have been scratch'd with a diamond: and to my surprise--for I +had not guess'd him a scholar--he read them out for my benefit. Thus the +writing ran, for I copied it later: + +"_Master Ephraim Tucker_, his dying councell to wayfardingers; to seek +_The Splendid Spur_. + + "Not on the necks of prince or hound, + Nor on a woman's finger twin'd, + May gold from the deriding ground + Keep sacred that we sacred bind + Only the heel + Of splendid steel + Shall stand secure on sliding fate, + When golden navies weep their freight. + + "The scarlet hat, the laurell'd stave + Are measures, not the springs, of worth; + In a wife's lap, as in a grave, + Man's airy notions mix with earth. + Seek other spur + Bravely to stir + The dust in this loud world, and tread + Alp-high among the whisp'ring dead. + + "_Trust in thyself_,--then spur amain: + So shall Charybdis wear a grace, + Grim Aetna laugh, the Lybian plain + Take roses to her shrivell'd face. + This orb--this round + Of sight and sound-- + Count it the lists that God hath built + For haughty hearts to ride a-tilt. + +"FINIS-Master Tucker's Farewell." + +"And a very pretty moral on four gentlemen that pass their afternoon a +setting snails to race!" + +At these words, spoken in a delicate foreign voice we all started round: +and saw a young lady standing behind us. + +Now that she was the one who had passed us in the coach I saw at once. +But describe her--to be plain--I cannot, having tried a many times. +So let me say only that she was the prettiest creature on God's earth +(which, I hope, will satisfy her); that she had chestnut curls and a +mouth made for laughing; that she wore a kirtle and bodice of grey silk +taffety, with a gold pomander-box hung on a chain about her neck; and +held out a drinking glass toward us with a Frenchified grace. + +"Gentlemen, my father is sick, and will taste no water but what is +freshly drawn. I ask you not to brave Charybdis or Aetna, but to step +out into the rainy yard and draw me a glassful from the pump there: for +our servant is abroad in the town." + +To my deep disgust, before I could find a word, that villainous old +pickpocket had caught the glass from her hand and reached the door. But +I ran after; and out into the yard we stepp'd together, where I pump'd +while he held the glass to the spout, flinging away the contents time +after time, till the bubbles on the brim, and the film on the outside, +were to his liking. + +'Twas he, too, that gain'd the thanks on our return. + +"Mistress," said he with a bow, "my young friend is raw, but has a +good will. Confess, now, for his edification--for he is bound on a long +journey westward, where, they tell me, the maidens grow comeliest--that +looks avail naught with womankind beside a dashing manner." + +The young gentlewoman laughed, shaking her curls. + +"I'll give him in that case three better counsels yet: first (for by his +habit I see he is on the King's side), let him take a circuit from this +place to the south, for the road between Marlboro' and Bristol is, they +tell me, all held by the rebels; next, let him avoid all women, even +tho' they ask but an innocent cup of water; and lastly, let him shun +thee, unless thy face lie more than thy tongue. Shall I say more?" + +"Why, no--perhaps better not," replied the old rogue hastily, but +laughing all the same. "That's a clever lass," he added, as the door +shut behind her. + +And, indeed, I was fain, next morning, to agree to this. For, awaking, I +found my friend (who had shar'd a room with me) already up and gone, and +discovered the reason in a sheet of writing pinn'd to my clothes---- + +"Young Sir,--I convict myself of ingratitude: but habit is hard to +break. So I have made off with the half of thy guineas and thy horse. +The residue, and the letter thou bearest, I leave. 'Tis a good world, +and experience should be bought early. This golden lesson I leave in +return for the guineas. Believe me, 'tis of more worth. Read over those +verses on the windowpane before starting, digest them, and trust me, thy +obliged, + +"Peter, The Jackman. + +"Raise not thy hand so often to thy breast: 'tis a sure index of hidden +valuables." + +Be sure I was wroth enough: nor did the calm interest of the two snail +owners appease me, when at breakfast I told them a part of the story. +But I thought I read sympathy in the low price at which one of them +offer'd me his horse. 'Twas a tall black brute, very strong in the +loins, and I bought him at once out of my shrunken stock of guineas. +At ten o'clock, I set out, not along the Bath road, but bearing to the +south, as the young gentlewoman had counselled. I began to hold a high +opinion of her advice. + +By twelve o'clock I was back at the inn door, clamoring to see the man +that sold me the horse, which had gone dead lame after the second mile. + +"Dear heart!" cried the landlord; "they are gone, the both, this hour +and a half. But they are coming again within the fortnight; and I'm +expressly to report if you return'd, as they had a wager about it." + +I turn'd away, pondering. Two days on the road had put me sadly out of +conceit with myself. For mile upon mile I trudged, dragging the horse +after me by the bridle, till my arms felt as if coming from their +sockets. I would have turn'd the brute loose, and thought myself well +quit of him, had it not been for the saddle and bridle he carried. + + * * * * * + +'Twas about five in the evening, and I still laboring along, when, over +the low hedge to my right, a man on a sorrel mare leap'd easily as a +swallow, and alighted some ten paces or less in front of me; where he +dismounted and stood barring my path. The muzzle of his pistol was in my +face before I could lay hand to my own. + +"Good evening!" said I. + +"You have money about you, doubtless," growled the man curtly, and in a +voice that made me start. For by his voice and figure in the dusk I knew +him for Captain Settle: and in the sorrel with the high white stocking +I recognized the mare, Molly, that poor Anthony Killigrew had given me +almost with his last breath. + +The bully did not know me, having but seen me for an instant at "The +Crown," and then in very different attire. + +"I have but a few poor coins," I answer'd. + +"Then hand 'em over." + +"Be shot if I do!" said I in a passion; and pulling out a handful from +my pocket, I dash'd them down in the road. + +For a moment the Captain took his pistol from my face, and stooped to +clutch at the golden coins as they trickled and ran to right and +left. The next, I had struck out with my right fist, and down he went +staggering. His pistol dropped out of his hand and exploded between +my feet. I rush'd to Molly, caught her bridle, and leap'd on her back. +'Twas a near thing, for the Captain was rushing toward us. But at the +call of my voice the mare gave a bound and turn'd: and down the road I +was borne, light as a feather. + +A bullet whizz'd past my ear: I heard the Captain's curse mingle with +the report: and then was out of range, and galloping through the dusk. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +MY ADVENTURE AT THE "THREE CUPS." + + +Secure of pursuit, and full of delight in the mare's easy motion, I must +have travelled a good six miles before the moon rose. In the frosty +sky her rays sparkled cheerfully, and by them I saw on the holsters the +silver demi-bear that I knew to be the crest of the Killigrews, having +the fellow to it engraved on my sword-hilt. So now I was certain 'twas +Molly that I bestrode: and took occasion of the light to explore the +holsters and saddle flap. + +Poor Anthony's pistols were gone--filched, no doubt, by the Captain: +but you may guess my satisfaction, when on thrusting my hand deeper, I +touched a heap of coins, and found them to be gold. + +'Twas certainly a rare bargain I had driven with Captain Settle. For +the five or six gold pieces I scatter'd on the road, I had won close +on thirty guineas, as I counted in the moonlight; not to speak of this +incomparable Molly. And I began to whistle gleefully, and taste the joke +over again and laugh to myself, as we cantered along with the north wind +at our backs. + +All the same, I had no relish for riding thus till morning. For the +night was chill enough to search my very bones after the heat of the +late gallop: and, moreover, I knew nothing of the road, which at this +hour was quite deserted. So that, coming at length to a tall hill with a +black ridge of pine wood standing up against the moon like a fish's fin, +I was glad enough to note below it, and at some distance from the trees, +a window brightly lit; and pushed forward in hope of entertainment. + +The building was an inn, though a sorry one. Nor, save for the lighted +window, did it wear any grace of hospitality, but thrust out a bare +shoulder upon the road, and a sign that creaked overhead and look'd for +all the world like a gallows. Round this shoulder of the house, and into +the main yard (that turn'd churlishly toward the hillside), the wind +howled like a beast in pain. I climb'd off Molly, and pressing my hat +down on my head, struck a loud rat-tat on the door. + +Curiously, it opened at once; and I saw a couple of men in the lighted +passage. + +"Heard the mare's heels on the road, Cap--. Hillo! What in the fiend's +name is this?" + +Said I: "If you are he that keeps this house, I want two things of +you--first, a civil tongue, and next a bed." + +"Ye'll get neither, then." + +"Your sign says that you keep an inn." + +"Aye--the 'Three Cups': but we're full." + +"Your manner of speech proves that to be a lie." + +I liked the fellow's voice so little that 'tis odds I would have +re-mounted Molly and ridden away; but at this instant there floated down +the stairs and out through the drink-smelling passage a sound that made +me jump. 'Twas a girl's voice singing---- + + "Hey nonni--nonni--no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is't not fine to laugh and sing + When the hells of death do ring----" + +There was no doubt upon it. The voice belonged to the young gentlewoman +I had met at Hungerford. I turned sharply toward the landlord, and was +met by another surprise. The second man, that till now had stood well +back in the shadow, was peering forward, and devouring Molly with his +gaze. 'Twas hard to read his features, but then and there I would have +wagered my life he was no other than Luke Settle's comrade, Black Dick. + +My mind was made up. "I'll not ride a step further, to-night," said I. + +"Then bide there and freeze," answer'd the landlord. + +He was for slamming the door in my face, when the other caught him +by the arm and, pulling him a little back, whisper'd a word or two. I +guess'd what this meant, but resolved not to draw back; and presently +the landlord's voice began again, betwixt surly and polite---- + +"Have ye too high a stomach to lie on straw?" + +"Oho!" thought I to myself, "then I am to be kept for the mare's sake, +but not admitted to the house:" and said aloud that I could put up with +a straw bed. + +"Because there's the stable loft at your service. As ye hear" (and in +fact the singing still went on, only now I heard a man's voice joining +in the catch) "our house is full of company. But straw is clean bedding, +and the mare I'll help to put in stall." + +"Agreed," I said, "on one condition--that you send out a maid to me with +a cup of mulled sack: for this cold eats me alive." + +To this he consented: and stepping back into a side room with the other +fellow, returned in a minute alone, and carrying a lantern which, in +spite of the moon, was needed to guide a stranger across that ruinous +yard. The flare, as we pick'd our way along, fell for a moment on +an open cart shed and, within, on the gilt panels of a coach that I +recogniz'd. In the stable, that stood at the far end of the court, I +was surprised to find half a dozen horses standing, ready saddled, and +munching their fill of oats. They were ungroom'd, and one or two in +a lather of sweat that on such a night was hard to account for. But I +asked no questions, and my companion vouchsafed no talk, though twice +I caught him regarding me curiously as I unbridled the mare in the +only vacant stall. Not a word pass'd as he took the lantern off the peg +again, and led the way up a ramshackle ladder to the loft above. He was +a fat, lumbering fellow, and made the old timbers creak. At the top he +set down the light, and pointed to a heap of straw in the corner. + +"Yon's your bed," he growled; and before I could answer, was picking his +way down the ladder again. + +I look'd about, and shiver'd. The eaves of my bedchamber were scarce on +speaking terms with the walls, and through a score of crannies at least +the wind poured and whistled, so that after shifting my truss of straw +a dozen times I found myself still the centre of a whirl of draught. The +candle-flame, too, was puffed this way and that inside the horn sheath. +I was losing patience when I heard footsteps below; the ladder creak'd, +and the red hair and broad shoulders of a chambermaid rose into view. +She carried a steaming mug in her hand, and mutter'd all the while in no +very choice talk. + +The wench had a kind face, tho'; and a pair of eyes that did her more +credit than her tongue. + +"And what's to be my reward for this, I want to know?" she panted out, +resting her left palm on her hip. + +"Why, a groat or two," said I, "when it comes to the reckoning." + +"Lud!" she cried, "what a dull young man!" + +"Dull?" + +"Aye--to make me ask for a kiss in so many words:" and with the back of +her left hand she wiped her mouth for it frankly, while she held out the +mug in her right. + +"Oh!" I said, "I beg your pardon, but my wits are frozen up, I think. +There's two, for interest: and another if you tell me whom your master +entertains to-night, that I must be content with this crib." + +She took the kisses with composure and said--- + +"Well--to begin, there's the gentlefolk that came this afternoon with +their own carriage and heathenish French servant: a cranky old grandee +and a daughter with more airs than a peacock: Sir Something-or-other +Killigew--Lord bless the boy!" + +For I had dropp'd the mug and split the hot sack all about the straw, +where it trickled away with a fragrance reproachfully delicious. + +"Now I beg your pardon a hundred times: but the chill is in my bones +worse than the ague;" and huddling my shoulders up, I counterfeited a +shivering fit with a truthfulness that surpris'd myself. + +"Poor lad!" + +"--And 'tis first hot and then cold all down my spine." + +"There, now!" + +"-And goose flesh and flushes all over my body." + +"Dear heart-and to pass the night in this grave of a place!" + +"--And by morning I shall be in a high fever: and oh! I feel I shall die +of it!" + +"Don't--don't!" The honest girl's eyes were full of tears. "I wonder, +now--" she began: and I waited, eager for her next words. "Sure, +master's at cards in the parlor, and 'll be drunk by midnight. Shalt +pass the night by the kitchen fire, if only thou make no noise." + +"But your mistress--what will she say?" + +"Is in heaven these two years: and out of master's speaking distance +forever. So blow out the light and follow me gently." + +Still feigning to shiver, I follow'd her down the ladder, and through +the stable into the open. The wind by this time had brought up some +heavy clouds, and mass'd them about the moon: but 'twas freezing hard, +nevertheless. The girl took me by the hand to guide me: for, save from +the one bright window in the upper floor, there was no light at all in +the yard. Clearly, she was in dread of her master's anger, for we stole +across like ghosts, and once or twice she whisper'd a warning when my +toe kick'd against a loose cobble. But just as I seem'd to be walking +into a stone wall, she put out her hand, I heard the click of a latch, +and stood in a dark, narrow passage. + +The passage led to a second door that open'd on a wide, stone-pav'd +kitchen, lit by a cheerful fire, whereon a kettle hissed and bubbled as +the vapor lifted the cover. Close by the chimney corner was a sort of +trap, or buttery hatch, for pushing the hot dishes conveniently into the +parlor on the other side of the wall. Besides this, for furniture, the +room held a broad deal table, an oak dresser, a linen press, a rack with +hams and strings of onions depending from it, a settle and a chair or +two, with (for decoration) a dozen or so of ballad sheets stuck among +the dish covers along the wall. + +"Sit," whisper'd the girl, "and make no noise, while I brew a rack-punch +for the men-folk in the parlor." She jerked her thumb toward the buttery +hatch, where I had already caught the mur-mer of voices. + +I took up a chair softly, and set it down between the hatch and the +fireplace, so that while warming my knees I could catch any word spoken +more than ordinary loud on the other side of the wall. The chambermaid +stirr'd the fire briskly, and moved about singing as she fetch'd down +bottles and glasses from the dresser---- + + "Lament ye maids an' darters + For constant Sarah Ann, + Who hang'd hersel' in her garters + All for the love o' man, + All for the--" + +She was pausing, bottle in hand, to take the high note: but hush'd +suddenly at the sound of the voices singing in the room upstairs--- + + "Vivre en tout cas + C'est le grand soulas + Des honnetes gens!" + +"That's the foreigners," said the chambermaid, and went on with her +ditty---- + + "All for the love of a souljer + Who christening name was Jan." + +A volley of oaths sounded through the buttery hatch. + +"--And that's the true-born Englishmen, as you may tell by their speech. +'Tis pretty company the master keeps, these days." + +She was continuing her song, when I held up a finger for silence. +In fact, through the hatch my ear had caught a sentence that set me +listening for more with a still heart. + +"D--n the Captain," the landlord's gruff voice was saying; "I warn'd 'n +agen this fancy business when sober, cool-handed work was toward." + +"Settle's way from his cradle," growl'd another; "and times enough I've +told 'n: 'Cap'n,' says I, 'there's no sense o' proportions about ye.' A +master mind, sirs, but 'a 'll be hang'd for a hen-roost, so sure as my +name's Bill Widdicomb." + +"Ugly words-what a creeping influence has that same mention o' hanging!" +piped a thinner voice. + +"Hold thy complaints, Old Mortification," put in a speaker that I +recogniz'd for Black Dick; "sure the pretty maid upstairs is tender +game. Hark how they sing!" + +And indeed the threatened folk upstairs were singing their catch very +choicely, with a girl's clear voice to lead them--- + + "Comment dit papa + --Margoton, ma mie?" + +"Heathen language, to be sure," said the thin voice again, as the chorus +ceased: "thinks I to mysel' 'they be but Papisters,' an' my doubting +mind is mightily reconcil'd to manslaughter." + +"I don't like beginning 'ithout the Cap'n," observed Black Dick: "though +I doubt something has miscarried. Else, how did that young spark ride in +upon the mare?" + +"An' that's what thy question should ha' been, Dick, with a pistol to +his skull." + +"He'll keep till the morrow." + +"We'll give Settle half-an-hour more," said the landlord: "Mary!" he +push'd open the hatch, so that I had barely time to duck my head out of +view, "fetch in the punch, girl. How did'st leave the young man i' the +loft?' + +"Asleep, or nearly," answer'd Mary-- + + "Who hang'd hersel' in her gar-ters, + All for the love o' man--" + +"--Anon, anon, master: wait only till I get the kettle on the boil." + +The hatch was slipp'd to again. I stood up and made a step toward the +girl. + +"How many are they?" I ask'd, jerking a finger in the direction of the +parlor. + +"A dozen all but one." + +"Where is the foreign guests' room?" + +"Left hand, on the first landing." + +"The staircase?" + +"Just outside the door." + +"Then sing--go on singing for your life." + +"But--" + +"Sing!" + +"Dear heart, they'll murder thee! Oh! for pity's sake, let go my +wrist--- + + "'Lament, ye maids an' darters--'" + +I stole to the door and peep'd out. A lantern hung in the passage, and +showed the staircase directly in front of me. I stay'd for a moment +to pull off my boots, and, holding them in my left hand, crept up the +stairs. In the kitchen, the girl was singing and clattering the glasses +together. Behind the door, at the head of the stairs, I heard voices +talking. I slipp'd on my boots again and tapp'd on the panel. + +"Come in!" + +Let me try to describe that on which my eyes rested as I push'd the door +wide. 'Twas a long room, wainscoted half up the wall in some dark wood, +and in daytime lit by one window only, which now was hung with red +curtains. By the fireplace, where a brisk wood fire was crackling, +lean'd the young gentlewoman I had met at Hungerford, who, as she now +turn'd her eyes upon me, ceas'd fingering the guitar or mandoline that +she held against her waist, and raised her pretty head not without +curiosity. + +But 'twas on the table in the centre of the chamber that my gaze +settled; and on two men beside it, of whom I must speak more +particularly. + +The elder, who sat in a high-back'd chair, was a little, frail, deform'd +gentleman of about fifty, dress'd very richly in dark velvet and furs, +and wore on his head a velvet skullcap, round which his white hair stuck +up like a ferret's. But the oddest thing about him was a complexion +that any maid of sixteen would give her ears for--of a pink and white +so transparent that it seem'd a soft light must be glowing beneath his +skin. On either cheek bone this delicate coloring centred in a deeper +flush. This is as much as I need say about his appearance, except that +his eyes were very bright and sharp, and his chin stuck out like a +vicious mule's. + +The table before him was cover'd with bottles and flasks, in the middle +of which stood a silver lamp burning, and over it a silver saucepan that +sent up a rare fragrance as the liquid within it simmer'd and bubbled. +So eager was the old gentleman in watching the progress of his mixture, +that he merely glanc'd up at my entrance, and then, holding up a hand +for silence, turn'd his eyes on the saucepan again. + +The second man was the broad-shouldered lackey I had seen riding behind +the coach: and now stood over the saucepan with a twisted flask in his +hand, from which he pour'd a red syrup very gingerly, drop by drop, with +the tail of his eye turn'd on his master's face, that he might know when +to cease. + +Now it may be that my entrance upset this experiment in strong drinks. +At any rate, I had scarce come to a stand about three paces inside the +door, when the little old gentleman bounces up in a fury, kicks over his +chair, hurls the nearest bottles to right and left, and sends the silver +saucepan spinning across the table to my very feet, where it scalded me +clean through the boot, and made me hop for pain. + +"Spoil'd--spoil'd!" he scream'd: "drench'd in filthy liquor, when it +should have breath'd but a taste!" + +And, to my amazement, he sprang on the strapping servant like a +wild-cat, and began to beat, cuff, and belabor him with all the strength +of his puny limbs. + +'Twas like a scene out of Bedlam. Yet all the while the girl lean'd +quietly against the mantelshelf, and softly touched the strings of her +instrument; while the servant took the rain of blows and slaps as +though 'twere a summer shower, grinning all over his face, and making no +resistance at all. + +Then, as I stood dumb with perplexity, the old gentleman let go his hold +of the fellow's hair, and, dropping on the floor, began to roll about in +a fit of coughing, the like of which no man can imagine. 'Twas hideous. +He bark'd, and writhed, and bark'd again, till the disorder seem'd to +search and rack every innermost inch of his small frame. And in the +intervals of coughing his exclamations were terrible to listen to. + +"He's dying!" I cried; and ran forward to help. + +The servant pick'd up the chair, and together we set him in it. By +degrees the violence of the cough abated, and he lay back, livid in the +face, with his eyes closed, and his hands clutching the knobs of the +chair. I turn'd to the girl. She had neither spoken nor stirr'd, but now +came forward, and calmly ask'd my business. + +"I think," said I, "that your name is Killigrew?" + +"I am Delia Killigrew, and this is my father, Sir Deakin." + +"Now on his way to visit his estates in Cornwall?" + +She nodded. + +"Then I have to warn you that your lives are in danger." And, gently as +possible, I told her what I had seen and heard downstairs. In the middle +of my tale, the servant stepp'd to the door, and return'd quietly. There +was no lock on the inside. After a minute he went across, and drew the +red curtains. The window had a grating within, of iron bars as thick as +a man's thumb, strongly clamp'd in the stonework, and not four inches +apart. Clearly, he was a man of few words; for, returning, he merely +pull'd out his sword, and waited for the end of my tale. + +The girl, also, did not interrupt me, but listen'd in silence. As I +ceas'd, she said---- + +"Is this all you know?" + +"No," answer'd I, "it is not. But the rest I promise to tell you if we +escape from this place alive. Will this content you?" + +She turn'd to the servant, who nodded. Whereupon she held out her hand +very cordially. + +"Sir, listen: we are travelers bound for Cornwall, as you know, and +have some small possessions, that will poorly reward the greed of these +violent men. Nevertheless, we should be hurrying on our journey did we +not await my brother Anthony, who was to have ridden from Oxford to join +us here, but has been delayed, doubtless on the King's business----" + +She broke off, as I started: for below I heard the main door open, and +Captain Settle's voice in the passage. The arch villain had return'd. + +"Mistress Delia," I said hurriedly, "the twelfth man has enter'd the +house, and unless we consider our plans at once, all's up with us." + +"Tush!" said the old gentleman in the chair, who (it seems) had heard +all, and now sat up brisk as ever. "I, for my part shall mix another +glass, and leave it all to Jacques. Come, sit by me, sir, and you shall +see some pretty play. Why, Jacques is the neatest rogue with a small +sword in all France!" + +"Sir," I put in, "they are a round dozen in all, and your life at +present is not worth a penny's purchase." + +"That's a lie! 'Tis worth this bowl before me, that, with or without +you, I mean to empty. What a fool thing is youth! Sir, you must be a +dying man like myself to taste life properly." And, as I am a truthful +man, he struck up quavering merrily-- + + "Hey, nonni--nonni--no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is't not fine to laugh and sing + When the bells of death do ring? + Is't not fine to drown in wine, + And turn upon the toe, + And sing, hey--nonni--no? + Hey, nonni--nonni--" + +"--Come and sit, sir, nor spoil sport. You are too raw, I'll wager, to +be of any help; and boggling I detest." + +"Indeed, sir," I broke in, now thoroughly anger'd, "I can use the small +sword as well as another." + +"Tush! Try him, Jacques." + +Jacques, still wearing a stolid face, brought his weapon to the guard. +Stung to the quick, I wheel'd round, and made a lunge or two, that he +put aside as easily as though I were a babe. And then--I know not how it +happened, but my sword slipp'd like ice out of my grasp, and went flying +across the room. Jacques, sedately as on a matter of business, stepp'd +to pick it up, while the old gentleman chuckled. + +I was hot and asham'd, and a score of bitter words sprang to my +tongue-tip, when the Frenchman, as he rose from stooping, caught my eye, +and beckon'd me across to him. + +He was white as death, and pointed to the hilt of my sword and the +demi-bear engrav'd thereon. + +"He is dead," I whisper'd: "hush!--turn your face aside--killed by those +same dogs that are now below." + +I heard a sob in the true fellow's throat. But on the instant it was +drown'd by the sound of a door opening and the tramp of feet on the +stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD. + + +By the sound of their steps I guess'd one or two of these dozen rascals +to be pretty far gone in drink, and afterward found this to be the case. +I look'd round. Sir Deakin had pick'd up the lamp and was mixing his +bowl of punch, humming to himself without the least concern---- + + "Vivre en tout cas + C'est le grand soulas"-- + +with a glance at his daughter's face, that was white to the lips, but +firmly set. + +"Hand me the nutmeg yonder," he said, and then, "why, daughter, what's +this?--a trembling hand?" + +And all the while the footsteps were coming up. + +There was a loud knock on the door. + +"Come in!" call'd Sir Deakin. + +At this, Jacques, who stood ready for battle by the entrance, wheeled +round, shot a look at his master, and dropping his point, made a sign to +me to do the same. The door was thrust rudely open, and Captain Settle, +his hat cock'd over one eye, and sham drunkenness in his gait, lurched +into the room, with the whole villainous crew behind him, huddled on the +threshold. Jacques and I stepp'd quietly back, so as to cover the girl. + +[Illustration: The door was thrust rudely open.--Page 88.] + +"Would you mind waiting a moment?" inquir'd Sir Deakin, without looking +up, but rubbing the nutmeg calmly up and down the grater: "a fraction +too much, and the whole punch will be spoil'd." + +It took the Captain aback, and he came to a stand, eyeing us, who +look'd back at him without saying a word. And this discomposed him still +further. + +There was a minute during which the two parties could hear each other's +breathing. Sir Deakin set down the nutmeg, wiped his thin white fingers +on a napkin, and address'd the Captain sweetly-- + +"Before asking your business, sir, I would beg you and your company to +taste this liquor, which, in the court of France"--the old gentleman +took a sip from the mixing ladle--"has had the extreme honor to be +pronounced divine." He smack'd his lips, and rising to his feet, let +his right hand rest on the silver foot of the lamp as he bowed to the +Captain. + +Captain Settle's bravado was plainly oozing away before this polite +audacity: and seeing Sir Deakin taste the punch, he pull'd off his cap +in a shamefaced manner and sat down by the table with a word of thanks. + +"Come in, sirs--come in!" call'd the old gentleman; "and follow your +friend's example. 'Twill be a compliment to make me mix another bowl +when this is finish'd." He stepped around the table to welcome them, +still resting his hand on the lamp, as if for steadiness. I saw his eye +twinkle as they shuffled in and stood around the chair where the Captain +was seated. + +"Jacques, bring glasses from the cupboard yonder! And, Delia, fetch up +some chairs for our guests--no, sirs, pray do not move!" + +He had waved his hand lightly to the door as he turned to us: and in +an instant the intention as well as the bright success of this comedy +flash'd upon me. There was now no one between us and the stairs, and +as for Sir Deakin himself, he had already taken the step of putting the +table's width between him and his guests. + +I touch'd the girl's arm, and we made as if to fetch a couple of chairs +that stood against the wainscot by the door. As we did so, Sir Deakin +push'd the punch bowl forward under the Captain's nose. + +"Smell, sir," he cried airily, "and report to your friends on the +foretaste." + +Settle's nose hung over the steaming compound. With a swift pass of +the hand, the old gentleman caught up the lamp and had shaken a drop of +burning oil into the bowl. A great blaze leap'd to the ceiling. There +was a howl--a scream of pain; and as I push'd Mistress Delia through the +doorway and out to the head of the stairs, I caught a backward glimpse +of Sir Deakin rushing after us, with one of the stoutest among the +robbers at his heels. + +"Downstairs, for your life!" I whisper'd to the girl, and turning, as +her father tumbled past me, let his pursuer run on my sword, as on +a spit. At the same instant, another blade pass'd through the fellow +transversely, and Jacques stood beside me, with his back to the lintel. + +As we pull'd our swords out and the man dropp'd, I had a brief view into +the room, where now the blazing liquid ran off the table in a stream. +Settle, stamping with agony, had his palms press'd against his scorch'd +eyelids. The fat landlord, in trying to beat out the flames, had +increased them by upsetting two bottles of aqua vitae, and was dancing +about with three fingers in his mouth. The rest stood for the most part +dumbfounder'd: but Black Dick had his pistol lifted. + +Jacques and I sprang out for the landing and round the doorway. Between +the flash and the report I felt a sudden scrape, as of a red-hot wire, +across my left thigh and just above the knee. + +"Tenez, camarade," said Jacques' voice in my ear; "a moi la porte--a +vous le maitre, la-bas:" and he pointed down the staircase, where, by +the glare of the conflagration that beat past us, I saw the figures of +Sir Deakin and his daughter standing. + +"But how can you keep the door against a dozen?" + +The Frenchman shrugg'd his shoulders with a smile--- + +"Mais-comme ca!" + +For at this moment came a rush of footsteps within the room. I saw a fat +paunch thrusting past us, a quiet pass of steel, and the landlord was +wallowing on his face across the threshold. Jacques' teeth snapp'd +together as he stood ready for another victim: and as the fellows within +the room tumbled back, he motion'd me to leave him. + +I sprang from his side, and catching the rail of the staircase, reach'd +the foot in a couple of bounds. + +"Hurry!" I cried, and caught the old baronet by the hand. His daughter +took the other, and between us we hurried him across the passage for the +kitchen door. + +Within, the chambermaid was on her knees by the settle, her face and +apron of the same hue. I saw she was incapable of helping, and hasten'd +across the stone floor, and out toward the back entrance. + +A stream of icy wind blew in our faces as we stepp'd over the threshold. +The girl and I bent our heads to it, and stumbling, tripping, and +panting, pull'd Sir Deakin with us out into the cold air. + +The yard was no longer dark. In the room above someone had push'd the +casement open, letting in the wind: and by this 'twas very evident the +room was on fire. Indeed, the curtains had caught, and as we ran, a +pennon of flame shot out over our heads, licking the thatch. In the +glare of it the outbuildings and the yard gate stood clearly out from +the night. I heard the trampling of feet, the sound of Settle's voice +shouting an order, and then a dismal yell and clash of steel as we flung +open the gate. + +"Jacques!" scream'd the old gentleman: "my poor Jacques! Those dogs will +mangle him with their cut and thrust--" + +'Twas very singular and sad, but as if in answer to Sir Deakin's cry, we +heard the brave fellow's voice; and a famous shout it must have been to +reach us over the roaring of the flames-- + +"Mon maitre-mon maitre!" he call'd twice, and then "Sauve toi!" in a +fainter voice, yet clear. And after that only a racket of shouts and +outcries reach'd us. Without doubt the villains had overpower'd and +slain this brave servant. In spite of our peril (for they would be after +us at once),'twas all we could do to drag the old man from the gate and +up the road: and as he went he wept like a child. + +After about fifty yards, we turn'd in at a gate, and began to cut across +a field: for I hop'd thus not only to baffle pursuit for a while, but +also to gain the wood that we saw dimly ahead. It reach'd to the top of +the hill, and I knew not how far beyond: and as I was reflecting that +there lay our chance of safety, I heard the inn door below burst open +with loud cries, and the sound of footsteps running up the road after +us. + +Moreover, to complete our fix, the clouds that had been scurrying across +the moon's face, now for a minute left a clear interval of sky about +her: so that right in our course there lay a great patch brilliantly +lit, whereon our figures could be spied at once by anyone glancing into +the field. Also, it grew evident that Sir Deakin's late agility was but +a short and sudden triumph of will over body: for his poor crooked legs +began to trail and lag sadly. So turning sharp about, we struck for the +hedge's shadow, and there pull'd him down in a dry ditch, and lay with +a hand on his mouth to stifle his ejaculations, while we ourselves held +our breathing. + +The runners came up the road, pausing for a moment by the gate. I heard +it creak, and saw two or three dark forms enter the field--the remainder +tearing on up the road with a great clatter of boots. + +"Alas, my poor Jacques!" moan'd Sir Deakin: "and to be butcher'd so, +that never in his days kill'd a man but as if he lov'd him!" + +"Sir," I whisper'd harshly, "if you keep this noise I must gag you." And +with that he was silent for awhile. + +There was a thick tangle of brambles in the ditch where we lay: and to +this we owe our lives. For one of the men, coming our way, pass'd within +two yards of us, with the flat of his sword beating the growth over our +heads. + +"Reu-ben! Reuben Gedges!" call'd a voice by the gate. + +The fellow turn'd; and peeping between the bramble twigs, I saw the +moonlight glittering on his blade. A narrow, light-hair'd man he was, +with a weak chin: and since then I have paid him out for the fright he +gave us. + +"What's the coil?" he shouted back. + +"The stable roofs ablaze--for the Lord's sake come and save the hosses!" + +He strode back, and in a minute the field was clear. Creeping out with +caution, I grew aware of two mournful facts: first, that the stable was +indeed afire, as I perceiv'd by standing on tiptoe and looking over the +hedge; and second, that my knee was hurt by Black Dick's bullet. The +muscles had stiffened while we were crouching, and now pain'd me badly. +Yet I kept it to myself as we started off again to run. + +But at the stile that, at the top of the field, led into the woods, I +pull'd up-- + +"Sorry I am to say it, but you must go on without me." + +"O--oh!" cried the girl. + +"'Tis for your safety. See, I leave a trail of blood behind me, so that +when day rises they will track us easily." + +And sure enough, even by the moon, 'twas easy to trace the dark spots +on the grass and earth beside the stile. My left boot, too, was full of +blood. + +She was silent for awhile. Down in the valley we could hear the screams +of the poor horses. The light of the flames lit up the pine trunks about +us to a bright scarlet. + +"Sir, you hold our gratitude cheaply." + +She unwound the kerchief from her neck, and making me sit on the stile, +bound up my knee skillfully, twisting a short stick in the bandage to +stop the bleeding. + +I thank'd her, and we hurried on into the depths of the wood, treading +silently on the deep carpet of pine needles. The ground rose steeply +all the way: and all the way, tho' the light grew feebler, the roar and +outcries in the valley follow'd us. + +Toward the hill's summit the trees were sparser. Looking upward, I saw +that the sky had grown thickly overcast. We cross'd the ridge, and after +a minute or so were in thick cover again. + +'Twas here that Sir Deakin's strength gave out. Almost without warning, +he sank down between our hands, and in a second was taken with that +hateful cough, that once already this night had frightened me for his +life. + +"Ah, ah!" he groaned, between the spasms, "I'm not fit--I'm not fit for +it!" and was taken again, and roll'd about barking, so that I fear'd the +sound would bring all Settle's gang on our heels. "I'm not fit for it!" +he repeated, as the cough left him, and he lay back helpless, among the +pine needles. + +Now, I understood his words to bear on his unfitness for death, and +judg'd them very decent and properly spoken: and took occasion to hint +this in my attempts to console him. + +"Why, bless the boy!" he cried, sitting up and staring, "for what d'ye +think I'm unsuited?" + +"Why, to die, sir--to be sure!" + +"Holy Mother!" he regarded me with surprise, contempt and pity, all +together: "was ever such a dunderhead! If ever man were fit to die, I am +he--and that's just my reasonable complaint. Heart alive! 'tis unfit to +_live_ I am, tied to this absurd body!" + +I suppose my attitude express'd my lack of comprehension, for he lifted +a finger and went on-- + +"Tell me--can you eat beef, and drink beer, and enjoy them?" + +"Why, yes." + +"And fight--hey? and kiss a pretty girl, and be glad you've done it? +Dear, dear, how I do hate a fool and a fool's pity! Lift me up and carry +me a step. This night's work has kill'd me: I feel it in my lungs. 'Tis +a pity, too; for I was just beginning to enjoy it." + +I lifted him as I would a babe, and off we set again, my teeth shutting +tight on the pain of my hurt. And presently, coming to a little dingle, +about half a mile down the hillside, well hid with dead bracken and +blackberry bushes, I consulted with the girl. The place was well +shelter'd from the wind that rock'd the treetops, and I fear'd to go +much further, for we might come on open country at any moment and so +double our peril. It seem'd best, therefore, to lay the old gentleman +snugly in the bottom of this dingle and wait for day. And with my +buff-coat, and a heap of dried leaves, I made him fairly easy, reserving +my cloak to wrap about Mistress Delia's fair neck and shoulders. But +against this at first she protested. + +"For how are you to manage?" she ask'd. + +"I shall tramp up and down, and keep watch," answer'd I, strewing a +couch for her beside her father: "and 'tis but fair exchange for the +kerchief you gave me from your own throat." + +At last I persuaded her, and she crept close to her father, and under +the edge of the buff-coat for warmth. There was abundance of dry bracken +in the dingle, and with this and some handfuls of pine needles, I +cover'd them over, and left them to find what sleep they might. + +For two hours and more after this, I hobbled to and fro near them, as +well as my wound would allow, looking up at the sky through the pine +tops, and listening to the sobbing of the wind. Now and then I would +swing my arms for warmth, and breathe on my fingers, that were sorely +benumb'd; and all the while kept my ears on the alert, but heard +nothing. + +'Twas, as I said, something over two hours after, that I felt a soft +cold touch, and then another, like kisses on my forehead. I put up my +hand, and looked up again at the sky. As I did so, the girl gave a long +sigh, and awoke from her doze--- + +"Sure, I must have dropp'd asleep," she said, opening her eyes, and +spying my shadow above her: "has aught happened?" + +"Aye," replied I, "something is happening that will wipe out our traces +and my bloody track." + +"And what is that?" + +"Snow: see, 'tis falling fast." + +She bent over, and listen'd to her father's breathing. + +"'Twill kill him," she said simply. + +I pull'd some more fronds of the bracken to cover them both. She thank'd +me, and offer'd to relieve me in my watch: which I refus'd. And indeed, +by lying down I should have caught my death, very likely. + +The big flakes drifted down between the pines: till, as the moon paled, +the ground about me was carpeted all in white, with the foliage black +as ink above it. Time after time, as I tramp'd to and fro, I paus'd to +brush the fresh-forming heap from the sleepers' coverlet, and shake +it gently from the tresses of the girl's hair. The old man's face was +covered completely by the buff-coat: but his breathing was calm and +regular as any child's. + +Day dawn'd. Awaking Mistress Delia, I ask'd her to keep watch for a +time, while I went off to explore. She crept out from her bed with a +little shiver of disgust. + +"Run about," I advis'd, "and keep the blood stirring." + +She nodded: and looking back, as I strode down the hill, I saw her +moving about quickly, swinging her arms, and only pausing to wave a hand +to me for goodspeed. + +* * * * * + +'Twas an hour before I return'd: and plenty I had to tell. Only at the +entrance to the dingle the words failed from off my tongue. The old +gentleman lay as he had lain throughout the night. But the bracken had +been toss'd aside, and the girl was kneeling over him. I drew near, my +step not arousing her. Sir Deakin's face was pale and calm: but on the +snow that had gather'd by his head, lay a red streak of blood. 'Twas +from his lungs, and he was quite dead. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +I FIND A COMRADE. + +But I must go back a little and tell you what befell in my expedition. + +I had scarce trudged out of sight of my friends, down the hill, when +it struck me that my footprints in the snow were in the last degree +dangerous to them, and might lead Settle and his crew straight to the +dingle. Here was a fix. I stood for some minutes nonpluss'd, when above +the stillness of the wood (for the wind had dropp'd) a faint sound as of +running water caught my ear, and help'd me to an idea. + +The sound seem'd to come from my left. Turning aside I made across the +hill toward it, and after two hundred paces or so came on a tiny +brook, not two feet across, that gush'd down the slope with a quite +considerable chatter and impatience. The bed of it was mainly earth, +with here and there a large stone or root to catch the toe: so that, +as I stepped into the water and began to thread my way down between the +banks of snow, 'twas necessary to look carefully to my steps. + +Here and there the brook fetch'd a leap down a sharper declivity, or +shot over a hanging stone: but, save for the wetting I took in these +places, my progress was easy enough. I must have waded in this manner +for half a mile, keeping the least possible noise, when at an angle +ahead I spied a clearing among the pines, and to the right of the +stream, on the very verge, a hut of logs standing, with a wood rick +behind it. + +'Twas a low building, but somewhat long, and I guess'd it to be, in +summer time, a habitation for the woodcutters. But what surpris'd me +was to hear a dull, moaning noise, very regular and disquieting, +that sounded from the interior of the hut. I listen'd, and hit on the +explication. 'Twas the sound of snoring. + +Drawing nearer with caution, I noticed, in that end of the hut which +stood over the stream, a gap, or window hole. The sound issued through +this like the whirring of a dozen looms. "He must be an astonishing +fellow," thought I, "that can snore in this fashion. I'll have a peep +before I wake him." I waded down till I stood under the sill, put both +hands upon it, and pulling myself up quiet as a mouse, stuck my face in +at the window--and then very nearly sat back into the brook for fright. + +For I had gazed straight down into the upturn'd faces of Captain Settle +and his gang. + +How long I stood there, with the water rushing past my ankles and my +body turning from cold to hot, and back again, I cannot tell you. But +'twas until, hearing no pause in the sleepers' chorus, I found courage +for another peep: and that must have been some time. + +There were but six rascals beside the Captain (so that Jacques must have +died hard, thought I), and such a raffle of arms and legs and swollen +up-turn'd faces as they made I defy you to picture. For they were pack'd +close as herrings; and the hut was fill'd up with their horses, ready +saddled, and rubbing shoulder to loin, so narrow was the room. It needed +the open window to give them air: and even so, 'twas not over-fresh +inside. + +I had no mind to stay: but before leaving found myself in the way of +playing these villains a pretty trick. To right and left of the window, +above their heads, extended two rude shelves that now were heap'd with +what I conjectured to be the spoils of the larder of the "Three Cups." +Holding my breath and thrusting my head and shoulders into the room, I +ran my hand along and was quickly possess'd of a boil'd ham, two capons, +a loaf, the half of a cold pie, and a basket holding three dozen eggs. +All these prizes I filched one by one, with infinite caution. + +I was gently pulling the basket through the window hole, when I heard +one of the crew yawn and stretch himself in his sleep. So, determining +to risk no more, I quietly pack'd the basket, slung it on my right arm, +and with the ham grasp'd by the knuckle in my left, made my way up the +stream. + +'Twas thus laden that I enter'd the dingle, and came on the sad sight +therein. I set down the ham as a thing to be asham'd of, and bar'd my +head. The girl lifted her face, and turning, all white and tragical, saw +me. + +"My father is dead, sir." + +I stoop'd and pil'd a heap of fresh snow over the blood stains. There +was no intent in this but to hide the pity that chok'd me. She had still +to hear about her brother, Anthony. Turning, as by a sudden thought, I +took her hand. She look'd into my eyes, and her own filled with tears. +'Twas the human touch that loosen'd their flow, I think: and sinking +down again beside her father, she wept her fill. + +"Mistress Killigrew," I said, as soon as the first violence of her tears +was abated, "I have still some news that is ill hearing. Your enemies +are encamp'd in the woods, about a half mile below this"--and with that +I told my story. + +"They have done their worst, sir." + +"No." + +She looked at me with a question on her lip. + +Said I, "you must believe me yet a short while without questioning." + +Considering for a moment, she nodded. "You have a right, sir, to be +trusted, tho' I know not so much as your name. Then we must stay close +in hiding?" she added very sensibly, tho' with the last word her voice +trail'd off, and she began again to weep. + +But in time, having cover'd the dead baronet's body with sprays of the +wither'd bracken, I drew her to a little distance and prevail'd on +her to nibble a crust of the loaf. Now, all this while, it must be +remembered, I was in my shirt sleeves, and the weather bitter cold. +Which at length her sorrow allow'd her to notice. + +"Why, you are shivering, sore!" she said, and running, drew my buff-coat +from her father's body, and held it out to me. + +"Indeed," I answer'd, "I was thinking of another expedition to warm my +blood." And promising to be back in half an hour, I follow'd down my +former tracks toward the stream. + +Within twenty minutes I was back, running and well-nigh shouting with +joy. + +"Come!" I cried to her, "come and see for yourself!" + +What had happen'd was this:--Wading cautiously down the brook, I had +cause suddenly to prick up my ears and come to a halt. 'Twas the muffled +tramp of hoofs that I heard, and creeping a bit further, I caught a +glimpse, beyond the hut, of a horse and rider disappearing down the +woods. He was the last of the party, as I guess'd from the sound of +voices and jingling of bits further down the slope. Advancing on the hut +with more boldness, I found it deserted. I scrambled up on the bank and +round to the entrance. The snow before it was trampled and sullied by +the footmarks of men and horses: and as I noted this, came Settle's +voice calling up the slope---- + +"Jerry--Jerry Toy!" + +A nearer voice hail'd in answer. + +"Where's Reuben?" + +"Coming, Captain--close behind!" + +"Curse him for a loitering idiot! We've wasted time enough, as 'tis," +called back the Captain. "How in thunder is a man to find the road out +of this cursed wood?" + +"Straight on, Cap'n--you can't miss it," shouted another voice, not two +gunshots below. + +A volcano of oaths pour'd up from Settle. I did not wait for the end of +them: but ran back for Mistress Delia. + +Together we descended to the hut. By this time the voices had faded away +in distance. Yet to make sure that the rascals had really departed, we +follow'd their tracks for some way, beside the stream; and suddenly came +to a halt with cries of joyful surprise. + +The brook had led us to a point where, over a stony fall veil'd with +brown bracken, it plunged into a narrow ravine. Standing on the lip, +where the water took a smoother glide before leaping, we saw the line +of the ravine mark'd by a rift in the pines, and through this a slice +of the country that lay below. 'Twas a level plain, well watered, and +dotted here and there with houses. A range of wooded hills clos'd the +view, and toward them a broad road wound gently, till the eye lost it at +their base. All this was plain enough, in spite of the snow that cover'd +the landscape. For the sun had burst out above, and the few flakes that +still fell looked black against his brilliance and the dazzling country +below. + +But what caus'd our joy was to see, along the road, a small cavalcade +moving away from us, with many bright glances of light and color, as +their steel caps and sashes took the sunshine--a pretty sight, and the +prettier because it meant our present deliverance. + +The girl beside me gave a cry of delight, then sigh'd; and after a +minute began to walk back toward the hut: where I left her, and ran up +hill for the basket and ham. On my return, I found her examining a +heap of rusty tools that, it seem'd, she had found on a shelf of the +building. 'Twas no light help to the good fellowship that afterward +united us, that from the first I could read her thoughts often without +words; and for this reason, that her eyes were as candid as the noonday. + +So now I answer'd her aloud--- + +"This afternoon we may venture down to the plain, where no doubt we +shall find a clergyman to sell us a patch of holy ground--" + +"Holy ground?" She look'd at me awhile and shook her head. "I am not of +your religion," she said. + +"And your father?" + +"I think no man ever discovered my father's religion. Perhaps there was +none to discover: but he was no bad father" she steadied her voice and +went on:--"He would prefer the hillside to your 'holy ground.'" + +So, an hour later, I delv'd his grave in the frosty earth, close by the +spot where he lay. Somehow, I shiver'd all the while, and had a cruel +shooting pain in my wound that was like to have mastered me before the +task was ended. But I managed to lower the body softly into the hole +and to cover it reverently from sight: and afterward stood leaning on +my spade and feeling very light in the head, while the girl knelt and +pray'd for her father's soul. + +And the picture of her as she knelt is the last I remember, till I +open'd my eyes, and was amazed to find myself on my back, and staring up +at darkness. + +"What has happen'd?" + +"I think you are very ill," said a voice: "can you lean on me, and reach +the hut?" + +"Why, yes: that is, I think so. Why is everything dark?" + +"The sun has been down for hours. You have been in a swoon first, and +then talk'd--oh, such nonsense! Shame on me, to let you catch this +chill!" + +She help'd me to my feet and steadied me: and how we reached the hut I +cannot tell you. It took more than one weary hour, as I now know; but, +at the time, hours and minutes were one to me. + +In that hut I lay four nights and four days, between ague fit and fever. +And that is all the account I can give of the time, save that, on the +second day, the girl left me alone in the hut and descended to the +plain, where, after asking at many cottages for a physician, she was +forced to be content with an old woman reputed to be amazingly well +skill'd in herbs and medicines; whom, after a day's trial, she turn'd +out of doors. On the fourth day, fearing for my life, she made another +descent, and coming to a wayside tavern, purchased a pint of aqua vitae, +carried it back, and mix'd a potion that threw me into a profuse sweat. +The same evening I sat up, a sound man. + +Indeed, so thoroughly was I recover'd that, waking early next morning, +and finding my sweet nurse asleep from sheer weariness, in a corner of +the hut, I stagger'd up from my bed of dried bracken, and out into the +pure air. Rare it was to stand and drink it in like wine. A footstep +arous'd me. 'Twas Mistress Delia: and turning, I held out my hand. + +"Now this is famous," said she: "a day or two will see you as good a man +as ever." + +"A day or two? To-morrow at latest, I shall make trial to start." I +noted a sudden change on her face, and added: "Indeed, you must hear +my reasons before setting me down for an ingrate;" and told her of the +King's letter that I carried. "I hoped that for a while our ways might +lie together," said I; and broke off, for she was looking me earnestly +in the face. + +"Sir, as you know, my brother Anthony was to have met me--nay, for +pity's sake, turn not your face away! I have guess'd--the sword you +carry--I mark'd it. Sir, be merciful, and tell me!" + +I led her a little aside to the foot of a tall pine; and there, tho' +it rung my heart, told her all; and left her to wrestle with this final +sorrow. She was so tender a thing to be stricken thus, that I who had +dealt the blow crept back to the hut, covering my eyes. In an hour's +time I look'd out. She was gone. + +At nightfall she return'd, white with grief and fatigue; yet I was glad +to see her eyes red and swol'n with weeping. Throughout our supper +she kept silence; but when 'twas over, look'd up and spoke in a steady +tone---- + +"Sir, I have a favor to ask, and must risk being held importunate--" + +"From you to me," I put in, "all talk of favors had best be dropp'd." + +"No--listen. If ever it befel you to lose father or mother or dearly +loved friend, you will know how the anguish stuns--Oh sir! to-day the +sun seem'd fallen out of heaven, and I a blind creature left groping +in the void. Indeed, sir, 'tis no wonder: I had a father, brother, +and servant ready to die for me--three hearts to love and lean on: and +to-day they are gone." + +I would have spoken, but she held up a hand. + +"Now when you spoke of Anthony--a dear lad!--I lay for some time dazed +with grief. By little and little, as the truth grew plainer, the pain +grew also past bearing. I stood up and stagger'd into the woods to +escape it. I went fast and straight, heeding nothing, for at first my +senses were all confus'd: but in a while the walking clear'd my wits, +and I could think: and thinking, I could weep: and having wept, could +fortify my heart. Here is the upshot, sir--tho' 'tis held immodest for a +maid to ask even far less of a man. We are both bound for Cornwall--you +on an honorable mission, I for my father's estate of Gleys, wherefrom +(as your tale proves) some unseen hands are thrusting me. Alike we carry +our lives in our hands. You must go forward: I may not go back. For from +a King who cannot right his own affairs there is little hope; and in +Cornwall I have surer friends than he. Therefore take me, sir--take +me for a comrade! Am I sad? Do you fear a weary journey? I will +smile--laugh--sing--put sorrow behind me. I will contrive a thousand +ways to cheat the milestones. At the first hint of tears, discard me, +and go your way with no prick of conscience. Only try me--oh, the shame +of speaking thus!" + +Her voice had grown more rapid toward the close: and now, breaking off, +she put both hands to cover her face, that was hot with blushes. I went +over and took them in mine: + +"You have made me the blithest man alive," said I. + +She drew back a pace with a frighten'd look, and would have pull'd her +hands away. + +"Because," I went on quickly, "you have paid me this high compliment, to +trust me. Proud was I to listen to you; and merrily will the miles pass +with you for comrade. And so I say--Mistress Killigrew, take me for your +servant." + +To my extreme discomposure, as I dropp'd her hands, her eyes were +twinkling with laughter. + +"Dear now; I see a dull prospect ahead if we use these long titles!" + +"But---" + +"Indeed, sir, please yourself. Only as I intend to call you 'Jack' +perhaps 'Delia' will be more of a piece than 'Mistress Killigrew.'" She +dropp'd me a mock curtsey. "And now, Jack, be a good boy, and hitch +me this quilt across the hut. I bought it yesterday at a cottage below +here----" + +She ended the sentence with the prettiest blush imaginable; and so, +having fix'd her screen, we shook hands on our comradeship, and wish'd +each other good night. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +I LOSE THE KING'S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL. + + +Almost before daylight we were afoot, and the first ray of cold sunshine +found us stepping from the woods into the plain, where now the snow was +vanished and a glistening coat of rime spread over all things. Down here +the pines gave way to bare elms and poplars, thickly dotted, and among +them the twisting smoke of farmstead and cottage, here and there, and +the morning stir of kitchen and stable very musical in the crisp air. + +Delia stepped along beside me, humming an air or breaking off to +chatter. Meeting us, you would have said we had never a care. The road +went stretching away to the northwest and the hills against the sky +there; whither beyond, we neither knew nor (being both young, and one, +by this time, pretty deep in love) did greatly care. Yet meeting with a +waggoner and his team, we drew up to enquire. + +The waggoner had a shock of whitish hair and a face purple-red above, +by reason of the cold, and purple-black below, for lack of a barber. He +purs'd up his mouth and look'd us slowly up and down. + +"Come," said I, "you are not deaf, I hope, nor dumb." + +"Send I may niver!" the fellow ejaculated, slowly and with +contemplation: "'tis an unseemly sight, yet tickling to the mirthfully +minded. Haw--haw!" He check'd his laughter suddenly and stood like a +stone image beside his horses. + +"Good sir," said Delia, laying a hand on my arm (for I was growing +nettled), "your mirth is a riddle: but tell us our way and you are free +to laugh." + +"Oh, Scarlet--Scarlet!" answer'd he: "and to me, that am a man o' +blushes from my cradle!" + +Convinced by this that the fellow must be an idiot, I told him so, and +left him staring after us; nor heard the sound of his horses moving on +again for many minutes. + +After this we met about a dozen on the road, and all paus'd to stare. +But from one--an old woman--we learn'd we were walking toward Marlboro', +and about noon were over the hills and looking into the valley beyond. + +'Twas very like the other vale; only a pleasant stream wound along the +bottom, by the banks of which the road took us. Here, by a bridge, we +came to an inn bearing the sign of "The Broad Face," and entered: for +Captain Settle's stock of victuals was now done. A sour-fac'd woman met +us at the door. + +"Do you stay here," Delia advis'd me, "and drink a mug of beer while I +bargain with the hostess for fresh food." She follow'd the sour-fac'd +woman into the house. + +But out she comes presently with her cheeks flaming and a pair of +bright eyes. "Come!" she commanded, "come at once!" Setting down my +half emptied mug, I went after her across the bridge and up the road, +wondering. In this way we must have walk'd for a mile or more before she +turn'd and stamp'd her little foot-- + +"Horrible!" she cried. "Horrible--wicked--shameful! Ugh!" There were +tears in her eyes. + +"What is shameful?" + +She made no reply, but walk'd on again quickly. + +"I am getting hungry, for my part," sigh'd I, after a little. + +"Then you must starve!" + +"Oh!" + +She wheel'd round again. + +"Jack, this will never do. If you are to have a comrade, let it be a +boy." + +"Now, I am very passably content as things are." + +"Nonsense: at Marlboro', I mean, you must buy me a suit of boy's +clothes. What are you hearkening to?" + +"I thought I heard the noise of guns--or is it thunder?" + +"Dear Jack, don't say 'tis thunder! I do mortally fear thunder--and +mice." + +"'Twouldn't be thunder at this time of year. No, 'tis guns firing." + +"Where?--not that I mind guns." + +"Ahead of us." + +On the far side of the valley we enter'd a wood, thinking by this to +shorten our way: for the road here took a long bend to eastward. Now, at +first this wood seem'd of no considerable size, but thicken'd and spread +as we advanced. 'Twas only, however, after passing the ridge, and when +daylight began to fail us, that I became alarm'd. For the wood grew +denser, with a tangle of paths criss-crossing amid the undergrowth. And +just then came the low mutter of cannon again, shaking the earth. We +began to run forward, tripping in the gloom over brambles, and stumbling +into holes. + +For a mile or so this lasted: and then, without warning, I heard a sound +behind me, and look'd back, to find Delia sunk upon the ground. + +"Jack, here's a to-do!" + +"What's amiss?" + +"Why, I am going to swoon!" + +The words were scarce out, when there sounded a crackling and snapping +of twigs ahead, and two figures came rushing toward us--a man and a +woman. The man carried an infant in his arms: and tho' I call'd on them +to stop, the pair ran by us with no more notice than if we had been +stones. Only the woman cried, "Dear Lord, save us!" and wrung her hands +as she pass'd out of sight. + +"This is strange conduct," thought I: but peering down, saw that Delia's +face was white and motionless. She had swoon'd, indeed, from weariness +and hunger. So I took her in my arms and stumbled forward, hoping to +find the end of the wood soon. For now the rattle of artillery came +louder and incessant through the trees, and mingling with it, a +multitude of dull shouts and outcries. At first I was minded to run +after the man and woman, but on second thought, resolv'd to see the +danger before hiding from it. + +The trees, in a short while, grew sparser, and between the stems I +mark'd a ruddy light glowing. And then I came out on an open space upon +the hillside, with a dip of earth in front; and beyond, a long ridge +of pines standing up black, because of a red glare behind them; and +saw that this came not from any setting sun, but was the light of a +conflagration. + +The glare danced and quiver'd in the sky, as I cross'd the hollow. It +made even Delia's white cheek seem rosy. Up amid the pines I clamor'd, +and along the ridge to where it broke off in a steep declivity. And lo! +in a minute I look'd down as 'twere into the infernal pit. + +There was a whole town burning below. And in the streets men were +fighting, as could be told by their shouts and the rattle and blaze of +musketry. For a garment of smoke lay over all and hid them: only the +turmoil beat up as from a furnace, and the flames of burning thatches, +and quick jets of firearms like lightning in a thundercloud. Great +sparks floated past us, and over the trees at our back. A hot blast +breath'd on our cheeks. Now and then you might hear a human shriek +distinct amid the din, and this spoke terribly to the heart. + +Now the town was Marlboro', and the attacking force a body of royal +troops sent from Oxford to oust the garrison of the Parliament, which +they did this same night, with great slaughter, driving the rebels out +of the place, and back on the road to Bristol. Had we guess'd this, +much ill luck had been spared us; but we knew nought of it, nor whether +friends or foes were getting the better. So (Delia being by this time +recover'd a little) we determined to pass the night in the woods, and on +the morrow to give the place a wide berth. + +Retreating, then, to the hollow (that lay on the lee side of the ridge, +away from the north wind), I gather'd a pile of great stones, and spread +my cloak thereover for Delia. To sleep was impossible, even with the +will for it. For the tumult and fighting went on, and only died out +about an hour before dawn: and once or twice we were troubled to hear +the sound of people running on the ridge above. So we sat and talked in +low voices till dawn; and grew more desperately hunger'd than ever. + +With the chill of daybreak we started, meaning to get quit of the +neighborhood before any espied us; and fetch'd a compass to the south +without another look at Marlboro'. At the end of two hours, turning +northwest again, we came to some water meadows beside a tiny river (the +Kennet, as I think), and saw, some way beyond, a high road that cross'd +to our side (only the bridge was now broken down), and further yet, a +thick smoke curling up; but whence this came I could not see. Now we +had been avoiding all roads this morning, and hiding at every sound of +footsteps. But hunger was making us bold. I bade Delia crouch down +by the stream's bank, where many alders grew, and set off toward this +column of smoke. + +By the spot where the road cross'd I noted that many men and horses had +lately pass'd hereby to westward, and, by their footmarks, at a great +speed. A little further, and I came on a broken musket flung against the +hedge, with a nauseous mess of blood and sandy hairs about the stock +of it; and just beyond was a dead horse, his legs sticking up like bent +poles across the road. 'Twas here that my blood went cold on a sudden, +to hear a dismal groaning not far ahead. I stood still, holding my +breath, and then ran forward again. + +The road took a twist that led me face to face with a small whitewashed +cottage, smear'd with black stains of burning. For seemingly it had been +fir'd in one or two places, only the flames had died out: and from the +back, where some out-building yet smoulder'd, rose the smoke that I +spied. But what brought me to a stand was to see the doorway all +crack'd and charr'd, and across it a soldier stretch'd--a green-coated +rebel--and quite dead. His face lay among the burn'd ruins of the door, +that had wofully singed his beard and hair. A stain of blood ran across +the door stone and into the road. + +I was gazing upon him and shuddering, when again I heard the groans. +They issued from the upper chamber of the cottage. I stepped over the +dead soldier and mounted the ladder that led upstairs. + +The upper room was but a loft. In it were two beds, whereof one was +empty. On the edge of the other sat up a boy of sixteen or thereabouts, +stark naked and moaning miserably. With one hand he seem'd trying to +cover a big wound that gaped in his chest: the other, as my head rose +over the ladder, he stretch'd out with all the fingers spread. And this +was his last effort. As I stumbled up, his fingers clos'd in a spasm of +pain; his hands dropp'd, and the body tumbled back on the bed, where it +lay with the legs dangling. + +The poor lad must have been stabb'd as he lay asleep. For by the bedside +I found his clothes neatly folded and without a speck of blood. They +were clean, though coarse; so thinking they would serve for Delia, I +took them, albeit with some scruples at robbing the dead, and covering +the body with a sheet, made my way downstairs. + +[Illustration: "Oh, Jack--they do not fit at all!"--Page 121.] + +Here, on a high shelf at the foot of the ladder, I discover'd a couple +of loaves and some milk, and also, lying hard by, a pair of shepherd's +shears, which I took also, having a purpose for them. By this time, +being sick enough of the place, I was glad to make all speed back to +Delia. + +She was still waiting among the leafless alders, and clapp'd her hands +to see the two loaves under my arm. + +Said I, flinging down the clothes, and munching at my share of the +bread--- + +"Here is the boy's suit that you wish'd for." + +"Oh, dear! 'tis not a very choice one." Her face fell. + +"All the better for escaping notice." + +"But--but I _like_ to be notic'd!" + +Nevertheless, when breakfast was done, she consented to try on the +clothes. I left her eyeing them doubtfully, and stroll'd away by the +river's bank. In a while her voice call'd to me--- + +"Oh, Jack--they do not fit at all!" + +"Why, 'tis admirable!" said I, returning, and scanning her. Now this was +a lie: but she took me more than ever, so pretty and comical she look'd +in the dress. + +"And I cannot walk a bit in them!" she pouted, strutting up and down. + +"Swing your arms more, and let them hang looser." + +"And my hair. Oh, Jack, I have such beautiful hair!" + +"It must come off," said I, pulling the shears out of my pocket. + +"And look at these huge boots!" + +Indeed, this was the main trouble, for I knew they would hurt her in +walking: yet she made more fuss about her hair, and only gave in when +I scolded her roundly. So I took the shears and clipp'd the chestnut +curls, one by one, while she cried for vexation; and took occasion of +her tears to smuggle the longest lock inside my doublet. + + * * * * * + +But, an hour after, she was laughing again, and had learned to cock the +poor country lad's cap rakishly over one eye: and by evening was walking +with a swagger and longing (I know) to meet with folks. For, to spare +her the sight of the ruin'd cottage, I had taken her round through the +fields, and by every bypath that seem'd to lead westward. 'Twas safer to +journey thus; and all the way she practic'd a man's carriage and airs, +and how to wink and whistle and swing a stick. And once, when she left +one of her shoes in a wet ditch, she said "d--n!" as natural as life: +and then-- + +We jump'd over a hedge, plump into an outpost of rebels, as they sat +munching their supper. + +They were six in all, and must have been sitting like mice: for all I +know of it is this. I had climb'd the hedge first, and was helping +Delia over, when out of the ground, as it seem'd, a voice shriek'd, +"Run--run!--the King's men are on us!" and then, my foot slipping, down +I went on to the shoulders of a thick-set man, and well-nigh broke his +neck as he turn'd to look up at me. + +At first, the whole six were for running, I believe. But seeing only +a lad stretch'd on his face, and a second on the hedge, they thought +better of it. Before I could scramble up, one pair of hands was screw'd +about my neck, another at my heels, and in a trice there we were +pinion'd. + +"Fetch the lantern, Zacchaeus." + +'Twas quickly lit, and thrust into my face; and very foolish I must have +look'd. The fellows were all clad in green coats, much soil'd with mud +and powder. And they grinn'd in my face till I long'd to kick them. + +"Search the malignant!" cried one. "Question him," call'd out another; +and forthwith began a long interrogatory concerning the movements of his +Majesty's troops, from which, indeed, I learn'd much concerning the late +encounter: but of course could answer nought. 'Twas only natural they +should interpret this silence for obstinacy. + +"March 'em off to Captain Stubbs!" + +"Halloa!" shouted a pockmarked trooper, that had his hand thrust in on +my breast: "bring the lantern close here. What's this?" + +'Twas, alas! the King's letter: and I bit my lip while they cluster'd +round, turning the lantern's yellow glare upon the superscription. + +"Lads, there's promotion in this!" shouted the thick-set man I had +tumbled on (who, it seem'd, was the sergeant in the troop): "hand me the +letter, there! Zacchaeus Martin and Tom Pine--you two bide here on duty: +t'other three fall in about the prisoners--quick march!' The wicked have +digged a pit--'" + +The rogue ended up with a tag from the Psalmist. + +We were march'd down the road for a mile or more, till we heard a loud +bawling, as of a man in much bodily pain, and soon came to a small +village, where, under a tavern lamp, by the door, was a man perch'd up +on a tub, and shouting forth portions of the Scripture to some twenty or +more green-coats assembled round. Our conductor pushed past these, and +enter'd the tavern. At a door to the left in the passage he halted, and +knocking once, thrust us inside. + +The room was bare and lit very dimly by two tallow candles, set in +bottles. Between these, on a deal table, lay a map outspread, and over +it a man was bending, who look'd up sharply at our entrance. + +He was thin, with a blue nose, and wore a green uniform like the rest: +only his carriage proved him a man of authority. + +This Captain Stubbs listened, you may be sure, with a bright'ning eye to +the sergeant's story; and at the close fix'd an inquisitive gaze on the +pair of us, turning the King's letter over and over in his hands. + +"How came this in your possession?" he ask'd at length. + +"That," said I, "I must decline to tell." + +He hesitated a moment; then, re-seating himself, broke the seal, spread +the letter upon the map, and read it slowly through. For the first time +I began heartily to hope that the paper contain'd nothing of moment. But +the man's face was no index of this. He read it through twice, folded it +away in his breast, and turn'd to the sergeant-- + + +"To-morrow at six in the morning we continue our march. Meanwhile keep +these fellows secure. I look to you for this." + +The sergeant saluted and we were led out. That night we pass'd in +handcuffs, huddled with fifty soldiers in a hayloft of the inn and +hearkening to their curious talk, that was half composed of Holy Writ +and half of gibes at our expense. They were beaten men and, like all +such, found comfort in deriding the greater misfortunes of others. + +Before daylight the bugles began to sound, and we were led down to the +green before the tavern door, where already were close upon five hundred +gather'd, that had been billeted about the village and were now forming +in order of march--a soil'd, batter'd crew, with torn ensigns and little +heart in their movements. The sky began a cold drizzle as we set out, +and through this saddening whether we trudged all day, Delia and I being +kept well apart, she with the vanguard and I in the rear, seeing only +the winding column, the dejected heads bobbing in front as they bent to +the slanting rain, the cottagers that came out to stare as we pass'd; +and hearing but the hoarse words of command, the low mutterings of the +men, and always the monotonous _tramp-tramp_ through the slush and mire +of the roads. + +'Tis like a bad dream to me, and I will not dwell on it. That night +we pass'd at Chippenham--a small market town--and on the morrow went +tramping again through worse weather, but always amid the same sights +and sounds. There were moments when I thought to go mad, wrenching at my +cords till my wrists bled, yet with no hope to escape. But in time, by +good luck, my wits grew deaden'd to it all, and I march'd on with the +rest to a kind of lugubrious singsong that my brain supplied. For hours +I went thus, counting my steps, missing my reckoning, and beginning +again. + +Daylight was failing when the towers of Bristol grew clear out of the +leaden mist in front; and by five o'clock we halted outside the walls +and beside the ditch of the castle, waiting for the drawbridge to be let +down. Already a great crowd had gather'd about us, of those who had come +out to learn news of the defeat, which, the day before some fugitives +had carried to Bristol. To their questions, as to all else, I listen'd +like a man in a trance: and recall this only--that first I was shivering +out in the rain and soon after was standing beside Delia, under guard +of a dozen soldiers, and shaking with cold, beneath a gateway that led +between the two wards of the castle. And there, for an hour at least, we +kick'd our heels, until from the inner ward Captain Stubbs came striding +and commanded us to follow. + +Across the court we went in the rain, through a vaulted passage, and +passing a screen of carved oak found ourselves suddenly in a great hall, +near forty yards long (as I reckon it), and rafter'd with oak. At the +far end, around a great marble table, were some ten or more gentlemen +seated, who all with one accord turn'd their eyes upon us, as the +captain brought us forward. + +The table before them was litter'd with maps, warrants, and papers; and +some of the gentlemen had pens in their hands. But the one on whom my +eyes fastened was a tall, fair soldier that sat in the centre, and held +his Majesty's letter, open, in his hand: who rose and bow'd to me as I +came near. + +"Sir," he said, "the fortune of war having given you into our hands, you +will not refuse, I hope, to answer our questions." + +"Sir, I have nought to tell," answer'd I, bowing in return. + +With a delicate white hand he wav'd my words aside. He had a handsome, +irresolute mouth, and was, I could tell, of very different degree from +the merchants and lawyers beside him. + +"You act under orders from the--the--" + +"Anti-Christ," put in a snappish little fellow on his right. + +"I do nothing of the sort," said I. + +"Well, then, sir, from King Charles." + +"I do not." + +"Tush!" exclaim'd the snappish man, and then straightening himself +up--"That boy with you--that fellow disguis'd as a countryman--look at +his boots!--he's a Papist spy!" + +"There, sir, you are wrong!" + +"I saw him--I'll be sworn to his face--I saw him, a year back, at Douai, +helping at the mass! I never forget faces." + +"Why, what nonsense!" cried I, and burst out laughing. + +"Don't mock at me, sir!" he thunder'd, bringing down his fist on the +table. "I tell you the boy is a Papist!" He pointed furiously at Delia, +who, now laughing also, answer'd him very demurely--- + +"Indeed, sir--" + +"I saw you, I say." + +"You are bold to make so certain of a Papist--" + +"I saw you!" + +"That cannot even tell maid from man!" + +"What is meant by that?" asks the tall soldier, opening his eyes. + +"Why, simply this, sir: I am no boy at all, but a girl!" + +There was a minute, during which the little man went purple in the face, +and the rest star'd at Delia in blank astonishment. + +"Oh, Jack," she whisper'd in my ear, "I am so very, very sorrow: but I +_cannot_ wear these hateful clothes much longer." + +She fac'd the company with a rosy blush. + +"What say you to this?" ask'd Colonel Essex--for 'twas he--turning round +on the little man. + +"Say? What do I say? That the fellow is a Papist, too. I knew it from +the first, and this proves it!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +I BREAK OUT OF PRISON. + + +You are now to be ask'd to pass over the next four weeks in as many +minutes: as would I had done at the time! For I spent them in a bitter +cold cell in the main tower of Bristol keep, with a chair and a pallet +of straw for all my furniture, and nothing to stay my fast but the bread +and water that the jailer--a sour man, if ever there were one--brought +me twice a day. + +This keep lies in the northwest corner of the outer ward of the +castle--a mighty tall pile and strongly built, the walls (as the jailer +told me) being a full twenty-five feet thick near the foundations, tho' +by time you ascended to the towers this thickness had dwindled to six +feet and no more. In shape 'twas a quadrilateral, a little shorter from +north to south than from east to west (in which latter direction it +measured sixty feet, about), and had four towers standing at the four +corners, whereof mine was five fathoms higher than the rest. + +Guess, then, how little I thought of escape, having but one window, a +hundred feet (I do believe) above the ground, and that so narrow that, +even without the iron bar across it, 'twould barely let my shoulders +pass. What concern'd me more was the cold that gnaw'd me continually +these winter nights, as I lay thinking of Delia (whom I had not seen +since our examination), or gazing out on the patch of frosty heaven +that was all my view. 'Twas thus I had heard Bristol bells ringing for +Christmas in the town below. + +Colonel Essex had been thrice to visit me, and always offer'd many +excuses for my treatment; but when he came to question me, why of course +I had nothing to tell, so that each visit but served to vex him more. +Clearly I was suspected to know a great deal beyond what appear'd in +the letter: and no doubt poor Anthony Killigrew had receiv'd some verbal +message from His Majesty which he lived not long enough to transmit to +me. As 'twas, I kept silence; and the Colonel in return would tell me +nothing of what had befallen Delia. + +One fine, frosty morning, then, when I had lain in this distress just +four weeks, the door of my cell open'd, and there appear'd a young +woman, not uncomely, bringing in my bread and water. She was the +jailer's daughter, and wore a heavy bunch of keys at her girdle. + +"Oh, good morning!" said I: for till now her father only had visited me, +and this was a welcome change. + +Instead of answering cheerfully (as I look'd for), she gave a little nod +of the head, rather sorrowful, and answered:-- + +"Father's abed with the ague." + +"Now you cannot expect me to be sorry." + +"Nay," she said; and I caught her looking at me with something like +compassion in her blue eyes, which mov'd me to cry out suddenly--- + +"I think you are woman enough to like a pair of lovers." + +"Oh, aye: but where's t'other half of the pair?" + +"You're right. The young gentlewoman that was brought hither with me--I +know not if she loves me: but this I do know--I would give my hand to +learn her whereabouts, and how she fares." + +"Better eat thy loaf," put in the girl very suddenly, setting down the +plate and pitcher. + +'Twas odd, but I seem'd to hear a sob in her voice. However, her back +was toward me as I glanc'd up. And next moment she was gone, locking the +iron door behind her. + +I turn'd from my breakfast with a sigh, having for the moment tasted +the hope to hear something of Delia. But in a while, feeling hungry, I +pick'd up the loaf beside me, and broke it in two. + +To my amaze, out dropp'd something that jingled on the stone floor. + +'Twas a small file: and examining the loaf again, I found a clasp-knife +also, and a strip of paper, neatly folded, hidden in the bread. + +"Deare Jack, + +"Colonel Essex, finding no good come of his interrogatories, hath set me +at large; tho' I continue under his eye, to wit, with a dowager of his +acquaintance, a Mistress Finch. Wee dwell in a private house midway down +St. Thomas his street, in Redcliffe: and she hath put a dismal dress +upon me (Jack, 'tis _hideous_), but otherwise uses me not ill. But take +care of thyself, my deare friend: for tho' the Colonel be a gentilman, +he is press'd by them about him, and at our last interview I noted a +mischief in his eye. Canst use this file?--(but take care: all the +gates I saw guarded with troopers to-day.) This by one who hath been +my friend: for whose sake tear the paper up. And beleeve your cordial, +loving comrade + +"D. K." + +After reading this a dozen times, till I had it by heart, I tore the +letter into small pieces and hid them in my pocket. This done, I felt +lighter-hearted than for many a day, and (rather for employment than +with any farther view) began lazily to rub away at my window bar. The +file work'd well. By noon the bar was half sever'd, and I broke off to +whistle a tune. 'Twas--- + + "Vivre en tout cas, + C'est le grand soulas--" + +and I broke off to hear the key turning in my lock. + +The jailer's daughter enter'd with my second meal. Her eyes were red +with weeping. + +Said I, "Does your father beat you?" + +"He has, before now," she replied: "but not to-day." + +"Then why do you weep?" + +"Not for that." + +"For what then?" + +"For you--oh, dear, dear! How shall I tell it? They are going to--to---" +She sat down on the chair, and sobb'd in her apron. + +"What is't they are going to do?" + +"To--to--h-hang you." + +"The devil! When?" + +"Tut-tut-to-morrow mo-horning!" + +I went suddenly very cold all over. There was silence for a moment, and +then I heard the noise of some one dropping a plank in the courtyard +below. + +"What's that?" + +"The gug-gug---" + +"Gallows?" + +She nodded. + +"You are but a weak girl," said I, meditating. + +"Aye: but there's a dozen troopers on the landing below." + +"Then, my dear, you must lock me up," I decided gloomily, and fell to +whistling---- + + "Vivre en tout cas, + C'est le grand soulas--" + +A workman's hammer in the court below chim'd in, beating out the tune, +and driving the moral home. I heard a low sob behind me. The jailer's +daughter was going. + +"Lend me your bodkin, my dear, for a memento." + +She pull'd it out and gave it to me. + +"Thank you, and now good-bye! Stop: here's a kiss to take to my dear +mistress. They shan't hang me, my dear." + +The girl went out, sobbing, and lock'd the door after her. + +I sat down for a while, feeling doleful. For I found myself extremely +young to be hang'd. But soon the _whang--whang!_ of the hammer below +rous'd me. "Come," I thought, "I'll see what that rascal is doing, at +any rate," and pulling the file from my pocket, began to attack the +window bar with a will. I had no need for silence, at this great height +above the ground: and besides, the hammering continued lustily. + +Daylight was closing as I finish'd my task and, pulling the two pieces +of the bar aside, thrust my head out at the window. + +Directly under me, and about twenty feet from the ground, I saw a beam +projecting, about six feet long, over a sort of doorway in the wall. +Under this beam, on a ladder, was a carpenter fellow at work, fortifying +it with two supporting timbers that rested on the sill of the doorway. +He was merry enough over the job, and paused every now and again to +fling a remark to a little group of soldiers that stood idling below, +where the fellow's workbag and a great coil of rope rested by the +ladder's foot. + +"Reckon, Sammy," said one, pulling a long tobacco pipe from his mouth +and spitting, "'tis a long while since thy last job o' the sort." + +"Aye, lad: terrible disrepair this place has fall'n into. But send us a +cheerful heart, say I! Instead o' the viper an' owl, shall henceforward +be hangings of men an' all manner o' diversion." + +I kept my head out of sight and listen'd. + +"What time doth 'a swing?" ask'd another of the soldiers. + +"I heard the Colonel give orders for nine o'clock to-morrow," answer'd +the first soldier, spitting again. + +The clock over the barbican struck four: and in a minute was being +answer'd from tower after tower, down in the city. + +"Four o'clock!" cried the man on the ladder: "time to stop work, and +here goes for the last nail!" He drove it in and prepar'd to descend. + +"Hi!" shouted a soldier, "you've forgot the rope." + +"That'll wait till to-morrow. There's a staple to drive in, too. I tell +you I'm dry, and want my beer." + +He whipp'd his apron round his waist, and gathering up his nails, +went down the ladder. At the foot he pick'd up his bag, shoulder'd +the ladder, and loung'd away, leaving the coil of rope lying there. +Presently the soldiers saunter'd off also, and the court was empty. + +Now up to this moment I had but one idea of avoiding my fate, and that +was to kill myself. 'Twas to this end I had borrow'd the bodkin of the +maid. Afterward I had a notion of flinging myself from the window as +they came for me. But now, as I look'd down on that coil of rope lying +directly below, a prettier scheme struck me. I sat down on the floor of +my cell and pull'd off my boots and stockings. + +'Twas such a pretty plan that I got into a fever of impatience. Drawing +off a stocking and picking out the end of the yarn, I began to unravel +the knitting for dear life, until the whole lay, a heap of thread, on +the floor. I then serv'd the other in the same way: and at the end had +two lines, each pretty near four hundred yards in length: which now I +divided into eight lines of about a hundred yards each. + +With these I set to work, and by the end of twenty minutes had plaited +a rope--if rope, indeed, it could be called--weak to be sure, but long +enough to reach the ground with plenty to spare. Then, having bent my +bodkin to the form of a hook, I tied it to the end of my cord, weighted +it with a crown from my pocket, and clamber'd up to the window. I was +going to angle for the hangman's rope. + +'Twas near dark by this; but I could just distinguish it on the paving +stones below, and looking about the court, saw that no one was astir. +I wriggled first my head, then a shoulder, through the opening, and let +the line run gently through my hand. There was still many yards left, +that could be paid out, when I heard my coin tinkle softly on the +pavement. + +Then began my difficulty. A dozen times I pull'd my hook across the coil +before it hitch'd; and then a full three score of times the rope slipped +away before I had rais'd it a dozen yards. My elbow was raw, almost, +with leaning on the sill, and I began to lose heart and head, when, to +my delight, the bodkin caught and held. It had fasten'd on a kink in +the rope, not far from the end. I began to pull up, hand over hand, +trembling all the while like a leaf. + +For I had two very reasonable fears. First, the rope might slip away and +tumble before it reach'd my grasp. Secondly, it might, after all, prove +a deal too short. It had look'd to me a new rope of many fathoms, not +yet cut for to-morrow's purpose; but eyesight might well deceive at that +distance, and surely enough I saw that the whole was dangling off the +ground long before it came to my hand. + +But at last I caught it, and slipping back into the room, pull'd it +after me, yard upon yard. My heart went loud and fast. There was nothing +to fasten it to but an iron staple in the door, that meant losing the +width of my cell, some six feet. This, however, must be risk'd, and I +made the end fast, lower'd the other out of window again, and climbing +to a sitting posture on the window sill, thrust out my legs over the +gulf. + +Thankful was I that darkness had fallen before this, and hidden the +giddy depths below me. I gripp'd the rope and push'd myself inch by +inch through the window, and out over the ledge. For a moment I dangled, +without courage to move a hand. Then, wreathing my legs round the rope, +I loosed my left hand, and caught with it again some six inches lower. +And so, down I went. + +Minute follow'd minute, and left me still descending, six inches at a +time, and looking neither above nor below, but always at the grey wall +that seem'd sliding up in front of me. The first dizziness was over, but +a horrible aching of the arms had taken the place of it. 'Twas growing +intolerable, when suddenly my legs, that sought to close round the rope, +found space only. I had come to the end. + +I look'd down. A yard below my feet the beam of the gallows gleam'd +palely out of the darkness. Here was my chance. I let my hands slip down +the last foot or so of rope, hung for a moment, then dropp'd for the +beam. + +My feet miss'd it, as I intended they should; but I flung both arms out +and caught it, bringing myself up with a jerk. While yet I hung clawing, +I heard a footstep coming through the gateway between the two wards. + +Here was a fix. With all speed and silence I drew myself up to the beam, +found a hold with one knee upon it, got astride, and lay down at length, +flattening my body down against the timber. Yet all the while I felt +sure I must have been heard. + +The footsteps drew nearer, and pass'd almost under the gallows. 'Twas an +officer, for, as he pass'd, he called out--- + +"Sergeant Downs! Sergeant Downs!" + +A voice from the guardroom in the barbican answer'd him through the +darkness. + +"Why is not the watch set?" + +"In a minute, sir: it wants a minute to six." + +"I thought the Colonel order'd it at half past five?" + +In the silence that follow'd, the barbican clock began to strike, and +half a dozen troopers tumbled out from the guardroom, some laughing, +some grumbling at the coldness of the night. The officer return'd to the +inner ward as they dispersed to their posts: and soon there was silence +again, save for the _tramp-tramp_ of a sentry crossing and recrossing +the pavement below me. + +All this while I lay flatten'd along the beam, scarce daring to breathe. +But at length, when the man had pass'd below for the sixth time, I +found heart to wriggle myself toward the doorway over which the gallows +protruded. By slow degrees, and pausing whenever the fellow drew near, +I crept close up to the wall: then, waiting the proper moment, cast my +legs over, dangled for a second or two swinging myself toward the sill, +flung myself off, and, touching the ledge with one toe, pitch'd forward +in the room. + +The effect of this was to give me a sound crack as I struck the +flooring, which lay about a foot below the level of the sill. I pick'd +myself up and listen'd. Outside, the regular tramp of the sentry prov'd +he had not heard me; and I drew a long breath, for I knew that without a +lantern he would never spy, in the darkness, the telltale rope dangling +from the tower. + +In the room where I stood all was right. But the flooring was uneven to +the foot, and scatter'd with small pieces of masonry. 'Twas one of the +many chambers in the castle that had dropp'd into disrepair. Groping my +way with both hands, and barking my shins on the loose stones, I found +a low vaulted passage that led me into a second chamber, empty as the +first. To my delight, the door of this was ajar, with a glimmer of light +slanting through the crack. I made straight toward it, and pull'd the +door softly. It open'd, and show'd a lantern dimly burning, and the +staircase of the keep winding past me, up into darkness. + +My chance was, of course, to descend: which I did on tiptoe, hearing no +sound. The stairs twisted down and down, and ended by a stout door with +another lamp shining above it. After listening a moment I decided to be +bold, and lifted the latch. A faint cry saluted me. + +I stood face to face with the jailer's daughter. + +The room was a small one, well lit, and lin'd about the walls with cups +and bottles. 'Twas, as I guess'd, a taproom for the soldiers: and the +girl had been scouring one of the pewter mugs when my entrance startled +her. She stood up, white as if painted, and gasp'd-- + +"Quick--quick! Down here behind the counter for your life!" + +There was scarce time to drop on my knees before a couple of troopers +loung'd in, demanding mull'd beer. The girl bustled about to serve them, +while the pair lean'd their elbows on the counter, and in this easy +attitude began to chat. + +"A shrewd night!" + +"Aye, a very freezing frost! Lucky that soldiering is not all sentry +work, or I for one 'ud ensue my natural trade o' plumbing. But let's be +cheerful: for the voice o' the turtle is heard i' the land." + +"Hey?" + +The man took a pull at his hot beer before explaining. + +"The turtle signifieth the Earl o' Stamford, that is to-night visiting +Colonel Essex in secret: an' this is the import--war, bloody war. Mark +me." + +"Stirring, striving times!" + +"You may say so! 'A hath fifteen thousand men, the Earl, no farther off +than Taunton--why, my dear, how pale you look, to be sure!" + +"'Tis my head that aches," answer'd the girl. + +The men finish'd their drink, and saunter'd out. I crept from under the +counter, and look'd at her. + +"Father'll kill me for this!" + +"Then you shall say--Is it forward or back I must go?" + +"Neither." She pull'd up a trap close beside her feet, and pointed out a +ladder leading down to the darkness. "The courts are full of troopers," +she added. + +"The cellar?" + +She nodded. + +"Quick! There's a door at the far end. It leads to the crypt of St. +John's Chapel. You'll find the key beside it, and a lantern. Here is +flint and steel." She reach'd them down from a shelf beside her. "Crouch +down, or they'll spy you through the window. From the crypt a passage +takes you to the governor's house. How to escape then, God knows! 'Tis +the best I can think on." + +I thank'd her, and began to step down the ladder. She stood for a moment +to watch, leaving the trap open for better light. Between the avenue of +casks and bins I stumbled toward the door and lantern that were just to +be discern'd at the far end of the cellar. As I struck steel on flint, +I heard the trap close: and since then have never set eyes on that +kind-hearted girl. + +The lantern lit, I took the key and fitted it to the lock. It turned +noisily, and a cold whiff of air struck my face. Gazing round this new +chamber, I saw two lines of squat pillars, supporting a low arch'd roof. +'Twas the crypt beneath the chapel, and smelt vilely. A green moisture +trickled down the pillars, and dripp'd on the tombs beneath them. + +At the end of this dreary place was a broken door, consisting only of a +plank or two, that I easily pull'd away: and beyond, a narrow passage, +over which I heard the tread of troopers plainly, as they pac'd to and +fro; also the muffled note of the clock, sounding seven. + +The passage went fairly straight, but was block'd here and there +with fallen stones, over which I scrambled as best I could. And then, +suddenly I was near pitching down a short flight of steps. I held the +lantern aloft and look'd. + +At the steps' foot widen'd out a low room, whereof the ceiling, like +that of the crypt, rested on pillars. Between these, every inch of space +was pil'd with barrels, chests, and great pyramids of round shot. In +each corner lay a heap of rusty pikes. Of all this the signification was +clear. I stood in the munition room of the Castle. + +But what chiefly took my notice was a great door, studded with iron +nails, that barr'd all exit from the place. Over the barrels I crept +toward it, keeping the lantern high, in dread of firing any loose +powder. 'Twas fast lock'd. + +I think that, for a moment or two, I could have wept. But in a while the +thought struck me that with the knife in my pocket 'twas possible to cut +away the wood around the lock. "Courage!" said I: and pulling it forth, +knelt down to work. + +Luck in life has always used me better than my deserts. At an hour's end +there I was, hacking away steadily, yet had made but little progress. +And then, pressing the knife deep, I broke the blade off short. The door +upon the far side was cas'd with iron. + +_Tramp--tramp!_ + +'Twas the sound of man's footfall, and to the ear appear'd to be +descending a flight of steps on the other side of the door. I bent my +ear to the keyhole: then stepp'd to a cask of bullets that stood handy +by. I took out a dozen, felt in my pocket for Delia's kerchief that she +had given me, caught up a pike from the pile stack'd in the corner, and +softly blowing out my light, stood back to be conceal'd by the door, +when it open'd. + +The footsteps still descended. I heard an aged voice muttering-- + +"Shrivel my bones--ugh!--ugh! Wintry work--wintry work! Here's an hour +to send a grandfatherly man a-groping for a keg o' powder!" + +A wheezy cough clos'd the sentence, as a key was with difficulty fitted +in the lock. + +"Ugh--ugh! Sure, the lock an' I be a pair, for stiff joints." + +The door creak'd back against me, and a shaft of light pierc'd the +darkness. + +Within the threshold, with his back to me, stood a grey-bearded servant, +and totter'd so that the lantern shook in his hand. It sham'd me to lift +a pike against one so weak. Instead, I dropp'd it with a clatter, and +leap'd forward. The old fellow jumped like a boy, turn'd, and fac'd me +with dropp'd jaw, which gave me an opportunity to thrust four or five +bullets, not over roughly, into his mouth. Then, having turn'd him on +his back, I strapp'd Delia's kerchief tight across his mouth, and took +the lantern from his hand. + +Not a word was said. Sure, the poor old man's wits were shaken, for he +lay meek as a mouse, and star'd up at me, while I unstrapp'd his belt +and bound his feet with it. His hands I truss'd up behind him with his +own neckcloth; and catching up the lantern, left him there. I lock'd +the door after me, and slip'd the key into my pocket as I sprang up the +stairs beyond. + +But here a light was shining, so once more I extinguish'd my lantern. +The steps ended in a long passage, with a handsome lamp hanging at the +uttermost end, and beneath this lamp I stepp'd into a place that fill'd +me with astonishment. + +'Twas, I could not doubt, the entrance hall of the governor's house. An +oak door, very massive, fronted me; to left and right were two smaller +doors, that plainly led into apartments of the house. Also to my +left, and nigher than the door on that side, ran up a broad staircase, +carpeted and brightly lit all the way, so that a very blaze fell on me +as I stood. Under the first flight, close to my left shoulder, was a +line of pegs with many cloaks and hats depending therefrom. Underfoot, I +remember, the hall was richly tiled in squares of red and white marble. + +Now clearly, this was a certain place wherein to be caught. "But," +thought I, "behind one of the two doors, to left or to right, must lie +the governor's room of business; and in that room--as likely as not--his +keys." Which door, then, should I choose? For to stay here was madness. + +While I stood pondering, the doubt was answer'd for me. From behind the +right-hand door came a burst of laughter and clinking of glasses, on top +of which a man's voice--the voice of Colonel Essex--call'd out for more +wine. + +I took a step to the door on the left, paus'd for a second or two with +my hand on the latch, and then cautiously push'd it open. The chamber +was empty. + +'Twas a long room, with a light burning on a square centre table, and +around it a mass of books, loose papers and documents strewn, seemingly +without order. The floor too was litter'd with them. Clearly this was +the Colonel's office. + +I gave a rapid glance around. The lamp's rays scarce illumin'd the far +corners; but in one of these stood a great leathern screen, and over +the fireplace near it a rack was hanging, full of swords, pistols, and +walking canes. Stepping toward it I caught sight of Anthony's sword, +suspended there amongst the rest (they had taken it from me on the day +of my examination); which now I took down and strapp'd at my side. I +then chose out a pistol or two, slipped them into my sash, and advanced +to the centre table. + +Under the lamplight lay His Majesty's letter, open. + +My hand was stretch'd out to catch it up, when I heard across the hall a +door open'd, and the sound of men's voices. They were coming toward the +office. + +There was scarce time to slip back, and hide behind the screen, before +the door latch was lifted, and two men enter'd, laughing yet. + +"Business, my lord--business," said the first ('twas Colonel Essex): "I +have much to do to-night." + +"Sure," the other answer'd, "I thought we had settled it. You are to +lend me a thousand out of your garrison--" + +"Which, on my own part, I would willingly do. Only I beg you to +consider, my lord, that my position here hangs on a thread. The extreme +men are already against me: they talk of replacing me by Fiennes--" + +"Nat Fiennes is no soldier." + +"No: but he's a bigot--a stronger recommendation. Should this plan +miscarry, and I lose a thousand men---" + +"Heavens alive, man! It _cannot_ miscarry. Hark ye: there's Ruthen of +Plymouth will take the south road with all his forces. A day's march +behind I shall follow--along roads to northward--parallel for a way, but +afterward converging. The Cornishmen are all in Bodmin. We shall come +on them with double their number, aye, almost treble. Can you doubt the +issue?" + +"Scarcely, with the Earl of Stamford for General." + +The Earl was too far occupied to notice this compliment. + +"'Twill be swift and secret," he said, "as Death himself--and as sure. +Let be the fact that Hopton is all at sixes and sevens since the Marquis +shipp'd for Wales: and at daggers drawn with Mohun." + +Said the Colonel slowly--"Aye, the notion is good enough. Were I not in +this corner, I would not think twice. Listen now: only this morning they +forc'd me to order a young man's hanging, who might if kept alive be +forc'd in time to give us news of value. I dar'd not refuse." + +"He that you caught with the King's letter?" + +"Aye--a trumpery missive, dealing with naught but summoning of the +sheriff's posse and the like. There is more behind, could we but wait to +get at it." + +"The gallows may loosen his tongue. And how of the girl that was taken +too?" + +"I have her in safe keeping. This very evening I shall visit her, and +make another trial to get some speech. Which puts me in mind--" + +The Colonel tinkled a small hand bell that lay on the table. + +The pause that followed was broken by the Earl. + +"May I see the letter?" + +The Colonel handed it, and tinkled the bell again, more impatiently. At +length steps were heard in the hall, and a servant open'd the door. + +"Where is Giles?" ask'd the Colonel. "Why are you taking his place?" + +"Giles can't be found, your honor." + +"Hey?" + +"He's a queer oldster, your honor, an' maybe gone to bed wi' his aches +and pains." + +(I knew pretty well that Giles had done no such thing: but be sure I +kept the knowledge safe behind my screen.) + +"Then go seek him, and say--No, stop: I can't wait. Order the coach +around at the barbican in twenty minutes from now--twenty minutes, mind, +without fail. And say--'twill save time--the fellow's to drive me to +Mistress Finch's house in St. Thomas' Street--sharp!" + +As the man departed on his errand, the Earl laid down His Majesty's +letter. + +"Hang the fellow," he said, "if they want it: the blame, if any, will +be theirs. But, in the name of Heaven, Colonel, don't fail in lending me +this thousand men! 'Twill finish the war out of hand." + +"I'll do it," answered the Colonel slowly. + +"And I'll remember it," said the Earl. "To-morrow, at six o'clock, I set +out." + +The two men shook hands on their bargain and left the room, shutting the +door after them. + +I crept forth from behind the screen, my heart thumping on my ribs. Thus +far it had been all fear and trembling with me; but now this was chang'd +to a kind of panting joy. 'Twas not that I had spied the prison keys +hanging near the fireplace, nor that behind the screen lay a heap of +the Colonel's riding boots, whereof a pair, ready spurr'd, fitted me +choicely well; but that my ears tingled with news that turn'd my escape +to a matter of public welfare: and also that the way to escape lay +plann'd in my head. + +Shod in the Colonel's boots, I advanc'd again to the table. With +sealing-wax and the Governor's seal, that lay handy, I clos'd up the +King's letter, and sticking it in my breast, caught down the bunch of +keys and made for the door. + +The hall was void. I snatch'd down a cloak and heavy broad-brimm'd hat +from one of the pegs, and donning them, slipp'd back the bolts of the +heavy door. It opened without noise. Then, with a last hitch of the +cloak, to bring it well about me, I stepp'd forth into the night, +shutting the door quietly on my heels. + +My feet were on the pavement of the inner ward. Above, one star +only broke the blackness of the night. Across the court was a sentry +tramping. As I walk'd boldly up, he stopped short by the gate between +the wards and regarded me. + +Now was my danger. I knew not the right key for the wicket: and if I +fumbled, the fellow would detect me for certain. I chose one and drew +nearer; the fellow look'd, saluted, stepp'd to the wicket, and open'd it +himself. + +"Good night, Colonel!" + +I did not trust myself to answer: but passed rapidly through to the +outer ward. Here, to my joy, in the arch'd passage of the barbican gate, +was the carriage waiting, the porter standing beside the door; and +here also, to my dismay, was a torch alight, and under it half a dozen +soldiers chatting. A whisper pass'd on my approach-- + +"The Colonel!" and they hurried into the guardroom. + +"Good evening, Colonel!" The porter bow'd low, holding the door wide. + +I pass'd him rapidly, climb'd into the shadow of the coach, and drew a +long breath. + +Then ensued a hateful pause, as the great gates were unbarr'd. I gripp'd +ray knees for impatience. + +The driver spoke a word to the porter, who came round to the coach door +again. + +"To Mistress Finch's, is it not?" + +"Ay," I muttered; "and quickly." + +The coachman touched up his pair. The wheels mov'd; went quicker. We +were outside the Castle. + +With what relief I lean'd back as the Castle gates clos'd behind us! And +with what impatience at our slow pace I sat upright again next minute! +The wheels rumbled over the bridge, and immediately we were rolling +easily down hill, through a street of some importance: but by this time +the shutters were up along the shop fronts and very few people abroad. +At the bottom we turn'd sharp to the left along a broader thoroughfare: +and then suddenly drew up. + +"Are we come?" I wonder'd. But no: 'twas the city gate, and here we had +to wait for three minutes at least, till the sentries recogniz'd the +Colonel's coach and open'd the doors to us. They stood on this side +and that, presenting arms, as we rattled through; and next moment I was +crossing a broad bridge, with the dark Avon on either side of me, and +the vessels thick thereon, their lanterns casting long lines of yellow +on the jetty water, their masts and cordage looming up against the dull +glare of the city. + +Soon we were between lines of building once more, shops, private +dwellings and warehouses intermix'd; then pass'd a tall church; and in +about two minutes more drew up again. I look'd out. + +Facing me was a narrow gateway leading to a house that stood somewhat +back from the street, as if slipping away from between the lines of +shops that wedg'd it in on either hand. Over the grill a link was +burning. I stepp'd from the coach, open'd the gate, and crossing the +small court, rang at the house bell. + +At first there was no answer. I rang again: and now had the satisfaction +to hear a light footfall coming. A bolt was pull'd and a girl appear'd +holding a candle high in her hand. Quick as thought, I stepped past her +into the passage. + +"Delia!" + +"Jack!" + +"Hist! Close the door. Where is Mistress Finch?" + +"Upstairs, expecting Colonel Essex. Oh, the happy day! Come--" she +led me into a narrow back room and setting down the light regarded +me--"Jack, my eyes are red for thee!" + +"I see they are. To-morrow I was to be hang'd." + +She put her hands together, catching her breath: and very lovely I +thought her, in her straight grey gown and Puritan cap. + +"They have been questioning me. Didst get my letter?" + +The answer was on my lip when there came a sound that made us both +start. + +'Twas the dull echo of a gun firing, up at the Castle. + +"Delia, what lies at the back here?" + +"A garden and a garden door: after these a lane leading to Redcliff +Street." + +"I must go, this moment." + +"And I?" + +She did not wait my answer, but running out into the passage, she came +swiftly back with a heavy key. I open'd the window. + +"Delia! De-lia!" 'Twas a woman's voice calling her, at the head of the +stairs. + +"Aye, Mistress Finch." + +"Who was that at the door?" + +I sprang into the garden and held forth a hand to Delia. "In one moment, +mistress!" call'd she, and in one moment was hurrying with me across the +dark garden beds. As she fitted the key to the garden gate, I heard the +voice again. + +"De-lia!" + +'Twas drown'd in a--wild _rat-a-tat!_ on the street door, and the shouts +of many voices. We were close press'd. + +"Now, Jack--to the right for our lives! Ah, these clumsy skirts!" + +We turn'd into the lane and rac'd down it. For my part, I swore to drown +myself in Avon rather than let those troopers retake me. I heard their +outcries about the house behind us, as we stumbled over the frozen +rubbish heaps with which the lane was bestrewn. + +"What's our direction?" panted I, catching Delia's hand to help her +along. + +"To the left now--for the river." + +We struck into a narrow side street; and with that heard a watchman +bawl--- + +"_Past nine o' the night, an' a--!_" + +The shock of our collision sent him to finish his say in the gutter. + +"Thieves!" he yell'd. + +But already we were twenty yards away, and now in a broader street, +whereof one side was wholly lin'd with warehouses. And here, to our +dismay, we heard shouts behind, and the noise of feet running. + +About halfway down the street I spied a gateway standing ajar, and +pull'd Delia aside, into a courtyard litter'd with barrels and timbers, +and across it to a black empty barn of a place, where a flight of wooden +steps glimmer'd, that led to an upper story. We climb'd these stairs at +a run. + +"Faugh! What a vile smell!" + +The loft was pil'd high with great bales of wool, as I found by the +touch, and their odor enough to satisfy an army. Nevertheless, I was +groping about for a place to hide, when Delia touch'd me by the arm, and +pointed. + +Looking, I descried in the gloom a tall quadrilateral of purple, not +five steps away, with a speck of light shining near the top of it, and +three dark streaks running down the middle, whereof one was much thicker +than the rest. 'Twas an open doorway; the speck, a star fram'd within +it; the broad streak, a ship's mast reaching up; and the lesser ones +two ends of a rope, working over a pulley above my head, and used for +lowering the bales of wool on shipboard. + +Advancing, I stood on the sill and look'd down. On the black water, +twenty feet below, lay a three-masted trader, close against the +warehouse. My toes stuck out over her deck, almost. + +At first glance I could see no sign of life on board: but presently was +aware of a dark figure leaning over the bulwarks, near the bows. He +was quite motionless. His back was toward us, blotted against the black +shadow; and the man engag'd only, it seem'd, in watching the bright +splash of light flung by the ship's lantern on the water beneath him. + +I resolv'd to throw myself on the mercy of this silent figure; and put +out a hand to test the rope. One end of it was fix'd to a bale of wool +that lay, as it had been lower'd, on the deck. Flinging myself on the +other, I found it sink gently from the pulley, as the weight below moved +slowly upward: and sinking with it, I held on till my feet touch'd the +deck. + +Still the figure in the bows was motionless. + +I paid out my end of the rope softly, lowering back the bale of wool: +and, as soon as it rested again on deck, signalled to Delia to let +herself down. + +She did so. As she alighted, and stood beside me, our hands bungled. The +rope slipp'd up quickly, letting down the bale with a run. + +We caught at the rope, and stopp'd it just in time: but the pulley above +creak'd vociferously. I turn'd my head. + +The man in the bows had not mov'd. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE. + + +"Now either I am mad or dreaming," thought I: for that the fellow had +not heard our noise was to me starkly incredible. I stepp'd along +the deck toward him: not an inch did he budge. I touch'd him on the +shoulder. + +He fac'd round with a quick start. + +"Sir," said I, quick and low, before he could get a word out--"Sir, we +are in your hands. I will be plain. To-night I have broke out of Bristol +Keep, and the Colonel's men are after me. Give me up to them, and they +hang me to-morrow: give my comrade up, and they persecute her vilely. +Now, sir, I know not which side you be, but there's our case in a +nutshell." + +The man bent forward, displaying a huge, rounded face, very kindly about +the eyes, and set atop of the oddest body in the world: for under a +trunk extraordinary broad and strong, straddled & pair of legs that a +baby would have disown'd--so thin and stunted were they, and (to make it +the queerer) ended in feet the most prodigious you ever saw. + +As I said, this man lean'd forward, and shouted into my ear so that I +fairly leap'd in the air-- + +"My name's Pottery--Bill Pottery, cap'n o' the _Godsend_--an' you can't +make me hear, not if you bust yoursel'!" + +You may think this put me in a fine quandary. + +"I be deaf as nails!" bawl'd he. + +'Twas horrible: for the troopers (I thought) if anywhere near, could not +miss hearing him. His voice shook the very rigging. + +"... An' o' my crew the half ashore gettin' drunk, an' the half below +in a very accomplished state o' liquor: so there's no chance for 'ee to +speak!" + +He paus'd a moment, then roared again--- + +"What a pity! 'Cos you make me very curious--that you do!" + +Luckily, at this moment, Delia had the sense to put a finger to her lip. +The man wheel'd round without another word, led us aft over the blocks, +cordage, and all manner of loose gear that encumber'd the deck, to a +ladder that, toward the stern, led down into darkness. Here he sign'd +to us to follow; and, descending first, threw open a door, letting out +a faint stream of light in our faces. 'Twas the captain's cabin, lin'd +with cupboards and lockers: and the light came from an oil lamp hanging +over a narrow deal table. By this light Captain Billy scrutiniz'd us for +an instant: then, from one of his lockers, brought out pen, paper, and +ink, and set them on the table before me. + +[Illustration: "Master Pottery shaking us both by the hand."] + +I caught up the pen, dipp'd it, and began to write-- + +"I am John Marvel, a servant of King Charles; and this night am escap'd +out of Bristol Castle. If you be--" + +Thus far I had written without glancing up, in fear to read the +disappointment of my hopes. But now the pen was caught suddenly from my +fingers, the paper torn in shreds, and there was Master Pottery shaking +us both by the hand, nodding and becking, and smiling the while all over +his big red face. + +But he ceas'd at last: and opening another of his lockers, drew forth +a horn lantern, a mallet, and a chisel. Not a word was spoken as he lit +the lantern and pass'd out of the cabin, Delia and I following at his +heels. + +Just outside, at the foot of the steps, he stoop'd, pull'd up a trap +in the flooring, and disclos'd another ladder stretching, as it seem'd, +down into the bowels of the ship. This we descended carefully; and found +ourselves in the hold, pinching our noses 'twixt finger and thumb. + +For indeed the smell here was searching to a very painful degree: for +the room was narrow, and every inch of it contested by two puissant +essences, the one of raw wood, the other of bilge water. With wool the +place was pil'd: but also I notic'd, not far from the ladder, several +casks set on their ends; and to these the captain led us. + +They were about a dozen in all, stacked close together: and Master +Pottery, rolling two apart from the rest, dragg'd them to another trap +and tugg'd out the bungs. A stream of fresh water gush'd from each and +splash'd down the trap into the bilge below. Then, having drained them, +he stay'd in their heads with a few blows of his mallet. + +His plan for us was clear. And in a very few minutes Delia and I were +crouching on the timbers, each with a cask inverted over us, our noses +at the bungholes and our ears listening to Master Pottery's footsteps +as they climb'd heavily back to deck. The rest of the casks were stack'd +close round us, so that even had the gloom allow'd, we could see nothing +at all. + +"Jack!" + +"Delia!" + +"Dost feel heroical at all?" + +"Not one whit. There's a trickle of water running down my back, to begin +with." + +"And my nose it itches; and oh, what a hateful smell! Say something to +me, Jack." + +"My dear," said I, "there is one thing I've been longing these weeks to +say: but this seems an odd place for it." + +"What is't?" + +I purs'd up my lips to the bunghole, and--- + +"I love you," said I. + +There was silence for a moment: and then, within Delia's cask, the sound +of muffled laughter. + +"Delia," I urg'd, "I mean it, upon my oath. Wilt marry me, sweetheart?" + +"Must get out of this cask first. Oh, Jack, what a dear goose thou art!" +And the laughter began again. + +I was going to answer, when I heard a loud shouting overhead. 'Twas the +sound of someone hailing the ship, and thought I, "the troopers are on +us!" + +They were, in truth. Soon I heard the noise of feet above and a string +of voices speaking one after another, louder and louder. And next Master +Pottery began to answer up and drown'd all speech but his own. When he +ceas'd, there was silence for some minutes: after which we heard a party +descend to the cabin, and the trampling of their feet on the boards +above us. They remain'd there some while discussing: and then came +footsteps down the second ladder, and a twinkle of light reach'd me +through the bunghole of my cask. + +"Quick!" said a husky voice; "overhaul the cargo here!" + +I heard some half dozen troopers bustling about the hold and tugging out +the bales of wool. + +"Hi!" call'd Master Pottery: "an' when you've done rummaging my ship, +put everything back as you found it." + +"Poke about with your swords," commanded the husky voice. "What's in +those barrels yonder?" + +"Water, sergeant," answers a trooper, rolling out a couple. + +"Nothing behind them?" + +"No; they're right against the side." + +"Drop 'em then. Plague on this business! 'Tis my notion they're a mile +a-way, and Cap'n Stubbs no better than a fool to send us back here. He's +grudging promotion, that's what he is! Hurry, there--hurry!" + +Ten minutes later, the searchers were gone; and we in our casks drawing +long breaths of thankfulness and strong odors. And so we crouch'd +till, about midnight, Captain Billy brought us down a supper of ship's +biscuit: which we crept forth to eat, being sorely cramp'd. + +He could not hear our thanks: but guess'd them. + +"Now say not a word! To-morrow we sail for Plymouth Sound: thence for +Brittany. Hist! We be all King's men aboard the _Godsend_, tho' hearing +nought I says little. Yet I have my reasoning heresies, holding the +Lord's Anointed to be an anointed rogue, but nevertheless to be serv'd: +just as aboard the _Godsend_ I be Cap'n Billy an' you plain Jack, be +your virtues what they may. An' the conclusion is--damn all mutineers +an' rebels! Tho', to be sure, the words be a bit lusty for a young +gentlewoman's ears." + +We went back to our casks with lighter hearts. Howbeit 'twas near five +in the morning, I dare say, before my narrow bedchamber allow'd me to +drop asleep. + +I woke to spy through my bunghole the faint light of day struggling down +the hatches. Above, I heard a clanking noise, and the voices of the men +hiccoughing a dismal chant. They were lifting anchor. I crawl'd forth +and woke Delia, who was yet sleeping: and together we ate the breakfast +that lay ready set for us on the head of a barrel. + +Presently the sailors broke off their song, and we heard their feet +shuffling to and fro on deck. + +"Sure," cried Delia, "we are moving!" + +And surely we were, as could be told by the alter'd sound of the water +beneath us, and the many creakings that the _Godsend_ began to keep. +Once more I tasted freedom again, and the joy of living, and could have +sung for the mirth that lifted my heart. "Let us but gain open sea," +said I, "and I'll have tit-for-tat with these rebels!" + +But alas! before we had left Avon mouth twenty minutes, 'twas another +tale. For I lay on my side in that dark hold and long'd to die: and +Delia sat up beside me, her hands in her lap, and her great eyes fix'd +most dolefully. And when Captain Billy came down with news that we were +safe and free to go on deck, we turn'd our faces from him, and said we +thank'd him kindly, but had no longer any wish that way--too wretched, +even, to remember his deafness. + +Let me avoid, then, some miserable hours, and come to the evening, when, +faint with fasting and nausea, we struggled up to the deck for air, and +look'd about us. + +'Twas grey--grey everywhere: the sky lead-colored, with deeper shades +toward the east, where a bank of cloud blotted the coast line: the +thick rain descending straight, with hardly wind enough to set the +sails flapping; the sea spread like a plate of lead, save only where, +to leeward, a streak of curded white crawled away from under the +_Godsend's_ keel. + +On deck, a few sailors mov'd about, red eyed and heavy. They show'd +no surprise to see us, but nodded very friendly, with a smile for our +strange complexions. Here again, as ever, did adversity mock her own +image. + +But what more took our attention was to see a row of men stretch'd on +the starboard side, like corpses, their heads in the scuppers, their +legs pointed inboard, and very orderly arranged. They were a dozen and +two in all, and over them bent Captain Billy with a mop in his hand, and +a bucket by his side: who beckon'd that we should approach. + +"Array'd in order o' merit," said he, pointing with his mop like a +showman to the line of figures before him. + +We drew near. + +"This here is Matt. Soames, master o' this vessel--an' he's dead." + +"Dead?" + +"Dead-drunk, that is. O the gifted man! Come up!" He thrust the mop in +the fellow's heavy face. "There now! Did he move, did he wink? 'No,' +says you. O an accomplished drunkard!" + +He paus'd a moment; then stirr'd up No. 2, who open'd one eye lazily, +and shut it again in slumber. + +"You saw? Open'd one eye, hey? That's Benjamin Halliday. The next is a +black man, as you see: a man of dismal color, and hath other drawbacks +natural to such. Can the Aethiop shift his skin? No, but he'll open both +eyes. See there--a perfect Christian, in so far as drink can make him." + +With like comments he ran down the line till he came to the last man, in +front of whom he stepp'd back. + +"About this last--he's a puzzler. Times I put him top o' the list, an' +times at the tail. That's Ned Masters, an' was once the Reverend Edward +Masters, Bachelor o' Divinity in Cambridge College; but in a tavern +there fell a-talking with a certain Pelagian about Adam an' Eve, an' +because the fellow turn'd stubborn, put a knife into his waistband, an' +had to run away to sea: a middling drinker only, but after a quart or +so to hear him tackle Predestination! So there be times after all when +I sets'n apart, and says, 'Drunk, you'm no good, but half-drunk, you'm +priceless.' Now there's a man--" He dropp'd his mop, and, leading us +aft, pointed with admiring finger to the helmsman--a thin, wizen'd +fellow, with a face like a crab apple, and a pair of piercing grey eyes +half hidden by the droop of his wrinkled lids. "Gabriel Hutchins, how +old be you?" + +"Sixty-four, come next Martinmas," pip'd the helmsman. + +"In what state o' life?" + +"Drunk." + +"How drunk?" + +"As a lord!" + +"Canst stand upright?" + +"Hee-hee! Now could I iver do other?--a miserable ould worms to whom the +sweet effects o' quantums be denied. When was I iver wholesomely maz'd? +Or when did I lay my grey hairs on the floor, saying, 'Tis enough, an' +'tis good'? Answer me that, Cap'n Bill." + +"But you hopes for the best, Gabriel." + +"Aye, I hopes--I hopes." + +The old man sigh'd as he brought the _Godsend_ a point nearer the wind; +and, as we turn'd away with the Captain, was still muttering, his sharp +grey eyes fix'd on the vessel's prow. + +"He's my best," said Captain Billy Pottery. + +With this crew we pass'd four days; and I write this much of them +because they afterward, when sober, did me a notable good turn, as you +shall read toward the end of this history. But lest you should +judge them hardly, let me say here that when they recovered of their +stupor--as happen'd to the worst after thirty-six hours--there was no +brisker, handier set of fellows on the seas. And this Captain Billy well +understood: "but" (said he) "I be a collector an' a man o' conscience +both, which is uncommon. Doubtless there be good sots that are not good +seamen, but from such I turn my face, drink they never so prettily." + +'Twas necessary I should impart some notion of my errand to Captain +Billy, tho' I confin'd myself to hints, telling him only 'twas urgent I +should be put ashore somewhere on the Cornish coast, for that I carried +intelligence which would not keep till we reached Plymouth, a town that, +besides, was held by the rebels. And he agreed readily to land me in +Bude Bay: "and also thy comrade, if (as I guess) she be so minded," +he added, glancing up at Delia from the paper whereon I had written my +request. + +She had been silent of late, beyond her wont, avoiding (I thought) to +meet my eye: but answer'd simply, + +"I go with Jack." + +Captain Billy, whose eyes rested on her as she spoke, beckon'd me, very +mysterious, outside the cabin, and winking slily, whisper'd loud enough +to stun one---- + +"Ply her, Jack"--he had call'd me "Jack" from the first--"ply her +briskly! Womankind is but yielding flesh: 'am an amorous man mysel', an' +speak but that I have prov'd." + +On this--for the whole ship could hear it--there certainly came the +sound of a stifled laugh from the other side of the cabin door: but it +did not mend my comrade's shy humor, that lasted throughout the voyage. + +To be brief, 'twas not till the fourth afternoon (by reason of baffling +head winds) that we stepped out of the _Godsend's_ boat upon a small +beach of shingle, whence, between a rift in the black cliffs, wound up +the road that was to lead us inland. The _Godsend_, as we turn'd to wave +our hands, lay at half a mile's distance, and made a pretty sight: for +the day, that had begun with a white frost, was now turn'd sunny and +still, so that looking north we saw the sea all spread with pink and +lilac and hyacinth, and upon it the ship lit up, her masts and sails +glowing like a gold piece. And there was Billy, leaning over the +bulwarks and waving his trumpet for "Good-bye!" Thought I, for I little +dream'd to see these good fellows again, "what a witless game is this +life! to seek ever in fresh conjunctions what we leave behind in a hand +shake." 'Twas a cheap reflection, yet it vex'd me that as we turn'd to +mount the road Delia should break out singing--- + +"Hey! nonni--nonni--no! Is't not fine to laugh and sing When the hells +of death do ring!--" + +"Why, no," said I, "I don't think it": and capp'd her verse with +another-- + +"Silly man, the cost to find Is to leave as good behind--" + +"Jack, for pity's sake, stop!" She put her fingers to her ears. "What a +nasty, creaking voice thou hast, to be sure!" + +"That's as a man may hold," said I, nettled. + +"No, indeed: yours is a very poor voice, but mine is beautiful. So +listen." + +She went on to sing as she went, "Green as grass is my kirtle," "Tire me +in tiffany," "Come ye bearded men-at-arms," and "The Bending Rush." All +these she sang, as I must confess, most delicately well, and then fac'd +me, with a happy smile--- + +"Now, have not I a sweet voice? Why, Jack--art still glum?" + +"Delia," answer'd I, "you have first to give me a reply to what, four +days agone, I ask'd you. Dear girl--nay then, dear comrade--" + +I broke off, for she had come to a stop, wringing her hands and looking +in my face most dolefully. + +"Oh, dear--oh, dear! Jack, we have had such merry times: and you are +spoiling all the fun!" + +We follow'd the road after this very moodily; for Delia, whom I had +made sharer of the rebels' secret, agreed that no time was to be lost +in reaching Bodmin, that lay a good thirty miles to the southwest. Night +fell and the young moon rose, with a brisk breeze at our backs that kept +us still walking without any feeling of weariness. Captain Billy had +given me at parting a small compass, of new invention, that a man could +carry easily in his pocket; and this from time to time I examin'd in the +moonlight, guiding our way almost due south, in hopes of striking into +the main road westward. I doubt not we lost a deal of time among +the byways; but at length happen'd on a good road bearing south, and +follow'd it till daybreak, when to our satisfaction we spied a hill in +front, topp'd with a stout castle, and under it a town of importance, +that we guess'd to be Launceston. + +By this, my comrade and I were on the best of terms again; and now drew +up to consider if we should enter the town or avoid it to the west, +trusting to find a breakfast in some tavern on the way. Because we knew +not with certainty the temper of the country, it seem'd best to choose +this second course: so we fetch'd around by certain barren meadows, and +thought ourselves lucky to hit on a road that, by the size, must be the +one we sought, and a tavern with a wide yard before it and a carter's +van standing at the entrance, not three gunshots from the town walls. + +"Now Providence hath surely led us to breakfast," said Delia, and +stepped before me into the yard, toward the door. + +I was following her when, inside of a gate to the right of the house, I +caught the gleam of steel, and turn'd aside to look. + +To my dismay there stood near a score of chargers in this second court, +saddled and dripping with sweat. My first thought was to run after +Delia; but a quick surprise made me rub my eyes with wonder--- + +'Twas the sight of a sorrel mare among them--a mare with one high white +stocking. In a thousand I could have told her for Molly. + +Three seconds after I was at the tavern door, and in my ears a voice +sounding that stopp'd me short and told me in one instant that without +God's help all was lost. + +'Twas the voice of Captain Settle speaking in the taproom; and already +Delia stood, past concealment, by the open door. + +"... And therefore, master carter, it grieves me to disappoint thee; +but no man goeth this day toward Bodmin. Such be my Lord of Stamford's +orders, whose servant I am, and as captain of this troop I am sent to +exact them. As they displease you, his lordship is but twenty-four hours +behind: you can abide him and complain. Doubtless he will hear--_ten +million devils!_" + +I heard his shout as he caught sight of Delia. I saw his crimson face as +he darted out and gripp'd her. I saw, or half saw, the troopers crowding +out after him. For a moment I hesitated. Then came my pretty comrade's +voice, shrill above the hubbub--- + +"Jack--they have horses outside! Leave me--I am ta'en--and ride, dear +lad--ride!" + +In a flash my decision was taken, for better or worse. I dash'd out +around the house, vaulted the gate, and catching at Molly's mane, leap'd +into the saddle. + +A dozen troopers were at the gate, and two had their pistols levell'd. + +"Surrender!" + +"Be hang'd if I do!" + +I set my teeth and put Molly at the low wall. As she rose like a bird in +air the two pistols rang out together, and a burning pain seem'd to tear +open my left shoulder. In a moment the mare alighted safe on the other +side, flinging me forward on her neck. But I scrambled back, and with a +shout that frighten'd my own ears, dug my heels into her flanks. + +Half a minute more and I was on the hard road, galloping westward for +dear life. So also were a score of rebel troopers. Twenty miles and more +lay before me; and a bare hundred yards was all my start. + +[Illustration: The two pistols rang out together.] + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND AM WELL TREATED THERE. + + +And now I did indeed abandon myself to despair. Few would have given a +groat for my life, with that crew at my heels; and I least of all, now +that my dear comrade was lost. The wound in my shoulder was bleeding +sore--I could feel the warm stream welling--yet not so sore as my heart. +And I pressed my knees into the saddle flap, and wondered what the end +would be. + +The sorrel mare was galloping, free and strong, her delicate ears laid +back, and the network of veins under her soft skin working with the +heave and fall of her withers: yet--by the mud and sweat about her--I +knew she must have travelled far before I mounted. I heard a shot or two +fired, far up the road: tho' their bullets must have fallen short: +at least, I heard none whiz past. But the rebels' shouting was clear +enough, and the thud of their gallop behind. + +I think that, for a mile or two, I must have ridden in a sort of swoon. +'Tis certain, not an inch of the road comes back to me: nor did I once +turn my head to look back, but sat with my eyes fastened stupidly on the +mare's neck. And by-and-bye, as we galloped, the smart of my wound, the +heartache, hurry, pounding of hoofs--all dropp'd to an enchanting lull. +I rode, and that was all. + +For, swoon or no, I was lifted off earth, as it seemed, and on easy +wings to an incredible height, where were no longer hedges, nor road, +nor country round; but a great stillness, and only the mare and I +running languidly through it. + +"Ride!" + +Now, at first, I thought 'twas someone speaking this in my ear, and +turn'd my head. But 'twas really the last word I had heard from Delia, +now after half an hour repeated in my brain. And as I grew aware of +this, the dullness fell off me, and all became very distinct. And the +muscles about my wound had stiffen'd--which was vilely painful: and the +country, I saw, was a brown, barren moor, dotted with peat-ricks: and I +cursed it. + +This did me good: for it woke the fighting-man in me, and I set my +teeth. Now for the first time looking back, I saw, with a great gulp of +joy, I had gained on the troopers. A long dip of the road lay between +me and the foremost, now topping the crest. The sun had broke through at +last, and sparkled on his cap and gorget. I whistled to Molly (I could +not pat her), and spoke to her softly: the sweet thing prick'd up +her ears, laid them back again, and mended her pace. Her stride was +beautiful to feel. + +I had yet no clear idea how to escape. In front the moors rose +gradually, swelling to the horizon line, and there broken into steep, +jagged heights. The road under me was sound white granite and stretch'd +away till lost among these fastnesses--in all of it no sign of man's +habitation. Be sure I look'd along it, and to right and left, dreading +to spy more troopers. But for mile on mile, all was desolate. + +Now and then I caught the cry of a pewit, or saw a snipe glance up from +his bed; but mainly I was busied about the mare. "Let us but gain the +ridge ahead," thought I, "and there is a chance." So I rode as light as +I could, husbanding her powers. + +She was going her best, but the best was near spent. The sweat was +oozing, her satin coat losing the gloss, the spume flying back from her +nostrils--"Soh!" I called to her: "Soh! my beauty; we ride to save an +army!" The loose stones flew right and left, as she reach'd out her +neck, and her breath came shorter and shorter. + +A mile, and another mile, we passed in this trim, and by the end of it +must have spent three-quarters of an hour at the work. Glancing back, I +saw the troopers scattered; far behind, but following. The heights were +still a weary way ahead: but I could mark their steep sides ribb'd +with boulders. Till these were passed, there was no chance to hide. The +parties in this race could see each other all the way, and must ride it +out. + +And all the way the ground kept rising. I had no means to ease the +mare, even by pulling off my heavy jack-boots, with one arm (and that my +right) dangling useless. Once she flung up her head and I caught sight +of her nostril, red as fire, and her poor eyes starting. I felt her +strength ebbing between my knees. Here and there she blundered in her +stride. And somewhere, over the ridge yonder, lay the Army of the West, +and we alone could save it. + +The road, for half a mile, now fetched a sudden loop, though the country +on either side was level enough. Had my head been cool, I must have +guessed a reason for this: but, you must remember, I had long been giddy +with pain and loss of blood--so, thinking to save time, I turned Molly +off the granite, and began to cut across. + +The short grass and heath being still frozen, we went fairly for the +first minute or so. But away behind us, I heard a shout--and it must +have been loud to reach me. I learn'd the meaning when, about two +hundred yards before we came on the road again, the mare's forelegs went +deep, and next minute we were plunging in a black peat-quag. + +Heaven can tell how we won through. It must have been still partly +frozen, and perhaps we were only on the edge of it. I only know that as +we scrambled up on solid ground, plastered and breathless, I looked at +the wintry sun, the waste, and the tall hill tow'ring to the right of +us, and thought it a strange place to die in. + +For the struggle had burst open my wound again, and the blood was +running down my arm and off my fingers in a stream. And now I could +count every gorsebush, every stone--and now I saw nothing at all. And +I heard the tinkling of bells: and then found a tune running in my +head--'twas "Tire me in tiffany," and I tried to think where last I +heard it. + +But sweet gallant Molly must have held on: for the next thing I woke up +to was a four-hol'd cross beside the road: and soon after we were over +the ridge and clattering down hill. + +A rough tor had risen full in front, but the road swerved to the left +and took us down among the spurs of it. Now was my last lookout. I tried +to sway less heavily in the saddle, and with my eyes searched the plain +at our feet. + +Alas! Beneath us the waste land was spread, mile upon mile: and I +groaned aloud. For just below I noted a clump of roofless cabins, and +beyond, upon the moors, the dotted walls of sheep-cotes, ruined also: +but in all the sad-color'd leagues no living man, nor the sign of one. +It was done with us. I reined up the mare--and then, in the same motion, +wheeled her sharp to the right. + +High above, on the hillside, a voice was calling. + +I look'd up. Below the steeper ridge of the tor a patch of land had been +cleared for tillage: and here a yoke of oxen was moving leisurely before +a plough ('twas their tinkling bells I had heard, just now); while +behind followed the wildest shape--by the voice, a woman. + +She was not calling to me, but to her team: and as I put Molly at the +slope, her chant rose and fell in the mournfullest singsong. + +"So-hoa! Oop Comely Vean! oop, then--o-oop!" + +I rose in my stirrups and shouted. + +At this and the sound of hoofs, she stay'd the plough and, hand on hip, +looked down the slope. The oxen, softly rattling the chains on their +yoke, turn'd their necks and gazed. With sunk head Molly heaved herself +up the last few yards and came to a halt with a stagger. I slipp'd out +of the saddle and stood, with a hand on it, swaying. + +"What's thy need, young man--that comest down to Temple wi' sword +a-danglin'?" + +The girl was a half-naked savage, dress'd only in a strip of sacking +that barely reach'd her knees, and a scant bodice of the same, lac'd in +front with pack thread, that left her bosom and brown arms free. Yet she +appear'd no whit abash'd, but lean'd on the plough-tail and regarded me, +easy and frank, as a man would. + +"Sell me a horse," I blurted out: "Twenty guineas will I give for +one within five minutes, and more if he be good! I ride on the King's +errand." + +"Then get thee back to thy master, an' say, no horse shall he have o' +me--nor any man that uses horseflesh so." She pointed to Molly's knees, +that were bow'd and shaking, and the bloody froth dripping from her +mouth. + +"Girl, for God's sake sell me a horse! They are after me, and I am +hurt." I pointed up the road. "Better than I are concerned in this." + +"God nor King know I, young man. But what's on thy saddle cloth, there?" + +'Twas the smear where my blood had soak'd: and looking and seeing +the purple mess cak'd with mud and foam on the sorrel's flank, I felt +suddenly very sick. The girl made a step to me. + +"Sell thee a horse? Hire thee a bedman, more like. Nay, then, lad--" + +But I saw her no longer: only called "oh-oh!" twice, like a little +child, and slipping my hold of the saddle, dropp'd forward on her +breast. + + * * * * * * * + +Waking, I found myself in darkness--not like that of night, but of a +room where the lights have gone out: and felt that I was dying. But +this hardly seem'd a thing to be minded. There was a smell of peat and +bracken about. Presently I heard the tramp of feet somewhere overhead, +and a dull sound of voices that appear'd to be cursing. + +The footsteps went to and fro, the voices muttering most of the time. +After a bit I caught a word--"Witchcraft": and then a voice speaking +quite close--"There's blood 'pon her hands, an' there's blood yonder +by the plough." Said another voice, higher and squeaky, "there's scent +behind a fox, but you don't dig it up an' take it home." The tramp +passed on, and the voices died away. + +By this I knew the troopers were close, and seeking me. A foolish +thought came that I was buried, and they must be rummaging over my +grave: but indeed I had no wish to enquire into it; no wish to move +even, but just to lie and enjoy the lightness of my limbs. The blood was +still running. I felt the warmth of it against my back: and thought it +very pleasant. So I shut my eyes and dropp'd off again. + +Then I heard the noise of shouting, far away: and a long while after +that, was rous'd by the touch of a hand, thrust in against my naked +breast, over my heart. + +"Who is it?" I whispered. + +"Joan," answered a voice, and the hand was withdrawn. + +The darkness had lifted somewhat, and though something stood between me +and the light, I mark'd a number of small specks, like points of gold +dotted around me-- + +"Joan--what besides?" + +"Joan's enough, I reckon: lucky for thee 'tis none else. Joan o' the Tor +folks call me, but may jet be Joan i' Good Time. So hold thy peace, lad, +an' cry out so little as may be." + +I felt a ripping of my jacket sleeve and shirt, now clotted and stuck to +the flesh. It pain'd cruelly, but I shut my teeth: and after that came +the smart and delicious ache of water, as she rinsed the wound. + +"Clean through the flesh, lad:--in an' out, like country dancin'. No +bullet to probe nor bone to set. Heart up, soce! Thy mother shall kiss +thee yet. What's thy name?" + +"Marvel, Joan--Jack Marvel." + +"An' marvel 'tis thou'rt Marvel yet. Good blood there's in thee, but +little enow." + +She bandaged the sore with linen torn from my shirt, and tied it round +with sackcloth from her own dress. 'Twas all most gently done: and then +I found her arms under me, and myself lifted as easy as a baby. + +"Left arm round my neck, Jack: an' sing out if 'tis hurtin' thee." + +It seemed but six steps and we were out on the bright hillside, not +fifty paces from where the plough yet stood in the furrow. I caught a +glimpse of a brown neck and a pair of firm red lips, of the grey tor +stretching above us and, further aloft, a flock of field fare hanging in +the pale sky; and then shut my eyes for the dazzle: but could still +feel the beat of Joan's heart as she held me close, and the touch of her +breath on my forehead. + +Down the hill she carried me, picking the softest turf, and moving +with an easeful swing that rather lull'd my hurt than jolted it. I was +dozing, even, when a strange noise awoke me. + +'Twas a high protracted note, that seem'd at first to swell up toward +us, and then broke off in half a dozen or more sharp yells. Joan took no +heed of them, but seeing my eyes unclose, and hearing me moan, stopped +short. + +"Hurts thee, lad?" + +"No." 'Twas not my pain but the sight of the sinking sun that wrung the +exclamation from me--"I was thinking," I muttered. + +"Don't: 'tis bad for health. But bide thee still a-while, and shalt lie +'pon a soft bed." + +By this time, we had come down to the road: and the yells were still +going on, louder than ever. We cross'd the road, descended another +slope, and came all at once on a low pile of buildings that a moment +before had been hid. 'Twas but three hovels of mud, stuck together in +the shape of a headless cross, the main arm pointing out toward the +moor. Around the whole ran a battered wall, patched with furs; and from +this dwelling the screams were issuing-- + +"Joan!" the voice began, "Joan--Jan Tergagle's a-clawin' my +legs--Gar-rout, thou hell cat--Blast thee, let me zog! Pull'n off +Joan--Jo-an!" + +The voice died away into a wail; then broke out in a racket of curses. +Joan stepped to the door and flung it wide. As my eyes grew used to the +gloom inside, they saw this:-- + +A rude kitchen--the furniture but two rickety chairs, now toss'd on +their faces, an oak table, with legs sunk into the earth, a keg of +strong waters, tilted over and draining upon the mud floor, a ladder +leading up to a loft, and in two of the corners a few bundles of bracken +strewn for bedding. To the left, as one entered, was an open hearth; +but the glowing peat-turves were now pitch'd to right and left over the +hearthstone and about the floor, where they rested, filling the den with +smoke. Under one of the chairs a black cat spat and bristled: while in +the middle of the room, barefooted in the embers, crouched a man. He was +half naked, old and bent, with matted grey hair and beard hanging +almost to his waist. His chest and legs were bleeding from a score of +scratches; and he pointed at the cat, opening and shutting his mouth +like a dog, and barking out curse upon curse. + +No way upset, Joan stepped across the kitchen, laid me on one of the +bracken beds, and explain'd-- + +"That's feyther: he's drunk." + +With which she turn'd, dealt the old man a cuff that stretch'd him +senseless, and gathering up the turves, piled them afresh on the hearth. +This done, she took the keg and gave me a drink of it. The stuff scalded +me, but I thanked her. And then, when she had shifted my bed a bit, to +ease the pain of lying, she righted a chair, drew it up and sat beside +me. The old man lay like a log where he had fallen, and was now snoring. +Presently, the fumes of the liquor, or mere faintness, mastered me, and +my eyes closed. But the picture they closed upon was that of Joan, as +she lean'd forward, chin on hand, with the glow of the fire on her brown +skin and in the depths of her dark eyes. + +[Illustration: Joan] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK DOWN. + + +But the pain of my hurt followed into my dreams. I woke with a start, +and tried to sit up. + +Within the kitchen all was quiet. The old savage was still stretch'd on +the floor: the cat curled upon the hearth. The girl had not stirr'd: but +looking toward the window hole, I saw night out side, and a frosty star +sparkling far down in the west. + +"Joan, what's the hour?" + +"Sun's been down these four hours." She turned her face to look at me. + +"I've no business lying here." + +"Chose to come, lad: none axed thee, that _I_ knows by." + +"Where's the mare? Must set me across her back, Joan, and let me ride +on." + +"Mare's in stable, wi' fetlocks swelled like puddens. Chose to come, +lad; an' choose or no, must bide." + +"'Tis for the General Hopton, at Bodmin, I am bound, Joan; and wound or +no, must win there this night." + +"And that's seven mile away: wi' a bullet in thy skull, and a peat quag +thy burial. For _they_ went south, and thy road lieth more south than +west." + +"The troopers?" + +"Aye, Jack: an' work I had this day wi' those same bloody warriors: but +take a sup at the keg, and bite this manchet of oat cake while I tell +thee." + +And so, having fed me, and set my bed straight, she sat on the floor +beside me (for the better hearing), and in her uncouth tongue, told how +I had been saved. I cannot write her language; but the tale, in sum, was +this:-- + +When I dropp'd forward into her arms, Joan for a moment was taken aback, +thinking me dead. But (to quote her) "'no good,' said I, 'in cuddlin' a +lad 'pon the hillside, for folks to see, tho' he _have_ a-got curls like +a wench: an' dead or 'live, no use to wait for others to make sure.'" + +So she lifted and carried me to a spot hard by, that she called the +"Jew's Kitchen;" and where that was, even with such bearings as I had, +she defied me to discover. There was no time to tend me, whilst Molly +stood near to show my whereabouts: so she let me lie, and went to lead +the sorrel down to stable. + +Her hand was on the bridle when she heard a _Whoop!_ up the road; and +there were half a dozen riders on the crest, and tearing down hill +toward her. Joan had nothing left but to feign coolness, and went on +leading the mare down the slope. + +In a while, up comes the foremost trooper, draws rein, and pants out +"Where's he to?" + +"Who?" asks Joan, making out to be surprised. + +"Why, the lad whose mare thou'rt leadin'?" + +"Mile an' half away by now." + +"How's that?" + +"Freshly horsed," explains Joan. + +The troopers--they were all around her by this--swore 'twas a lie; but +luckily, being down in the hollow, could not see over the next ridge. +They began a string of questions all together: but at last a little tun +bellied sergeant call'd "Silence!" and asked the girl, "did she loan the +fellow a horse?" + +Here I will quote her again:-- + +"'Sir, to thee,' I answer'd, 'no loan at all, but fair swap for our Grey +Robin.' + +"'That's a lie,' he says; 'an' I won't believe thee.' + +"'Might so well,' says I; 'but go to stable, an' see for thysel' +(Never had grey horse to my name, Jack; but, thinks I, that's _his'n_ +lookout.)" + +They went, did these simple troopers, to look at the stable, and sure +enough, there was no Grey Robin. Nevertheless, some amongst them had +logic enough to take this as something less than proof convincing, and +spent three hours and more ransacking the house and barn, and searching +the tor and the moors below it. I learn'd too, that Joan had come in for +some rough talk--to which she put a stop, as she told me, by offering +to fight any man Jack of them for the buttons on his buffcoat. And at +length, about sundown, they gave up the hunt, and road away over the +moors toward Warleggan, having (as the girl heard them say) to be at +Braddock before night. + +"Where is this Braddock?" + +"Nigh to Lord Mohun's house at Boconnoc: seven mile away to the south, +and seven mile or so from Bodmin, as a crow flies." + +"Then go I must," cried I: and hereupon I broke out with all the +trouble that was on my mind, and the instant need to save these gallant +gentlemen of Cornwall, ere two armies should combine against them. +I told of the King's letter in my breast, and how I found the Lord +Stamford's men at Launceston; how that Ruthen, with the vanguard of the +rebels, was now at Liskeard, with but a bare day's march between the +two, and none but I to carry the warning. And "Oh, Joan!" I cried, "my +comrade I left upon the road. Brighter courage and truer heart never +man proved, and yet left by me in the rebels' hands. Alas! that I could +neither save nor help, but must still ride on: and here is the issue--to +lie struck down within ten mile of my goal--I, that have traveled two +hundred. And if the Cornishmen be not warned to give fight before Lord +Stamford come up, all's lost. Even now they be outnumber'd. So lift me, +Joan, and set me astride Molly, and I'll win to Bodmin yet." + +"Reckon, Jack, thou'd best hand _me_ thy letter." + +Now, I did not at once catch the intent of these words, so simply +spoken; but stared at her like an owl. + +"There's horse in stall, lad," she went on, "tho' no Grey Robin. +Tearaway's the name, and strawberry the color." + +"But, Joan, Joan, if you do this--feel inside my coat here, to the +left--you will save an army, girl, maybe a throne! Here 'tis, Joan, +see--no, not that--here! Say the seal is that of the Governor of +Bristol, who stole it from me for a while: but the handwriting will be +known for the King's: and no hand but yours must touch it till you stand +before Sir Ralph Hopton. The King shall thank you, Joan; and God will +bless you for't." + +"Hope so, I'm sure. But larn me what to say, lad: for I be main thick +witted." + +So I told her the message over and over, till she had it by heart. + +"Shan't forgit, now," she said, at length; "an' so hearken to me for a +change. Bide still, nor fret thysel'. Here's pasty an' oat cake, an' a +keg o' water that I'll stow beside thee. Pay no heed to feyther, an' if +he wills to get drunk an' fight wi' Jan Tergagle--that's the cat--why +let'n. Drunk or sober, he's no 'count." + +She hid the letter in her bosom, and stepp'd to the door. On the +threshold she turned-- + +"Jack--forgot to ax: what be all this bloodshed about?" + +"For Church and King, Joan." + +"H'm: same knowledge ha' I o' both--an' that's naught. But I dearly +loves fair play." + +She was gone. In a minute or so I heard the trampling of a horse: and +then, with a scurry of hoofs, Joan was off on the King's errand, and +riding into the darkness. + +Little rest had I that night; but lay awake on my bracken bed and +watched the burning peat-turves turn to grey, and drop, flake by flake, +till only a glowing point remained. The door rattled now and then on the +hinge: out on the moor the light winds kept a noise persistent as town +dogs at midnight: and all the while my wound was stabbing, and the +bracken pricking me till I groaned aloud. + +As day began to break, the old man picked himself up, yawned and lounged +out, returning after a time with fresh turves for the hearth. He noticed +me no more than a stone, but when the fire was restack'd, drew up his +chair to the warmth, and breakfasted on oat cake and a liberal deal of +liquor. Observing him, the black cat uncoil'd, stretch'd himself, +and climbing to his master's knee, sat there purring, and the best of +friends. I also judged it time to breakfast: found my store: took a +bite or two, and a pull at the keg, and lay back--this time to sleep. + +When I woke, 'twas high noon. The door stood open, and outside on the +wall the winter sunshine was lying, very bright and clear. Indoors, the +old savage had been drinking steadily; and still sat before the fire, +with the cat on one knee, and his keg on the other. I sat up and +strain'd my ears. Surely, if Joan had not failed, the royal generals +would march out and give battle at once: and surely, if they were +fighting, not ten miles away, some sound of it would reach me. But +beyond the purring of the cat, I heard nothing. + +I crawl'd to my feet, rested a moment to stay the giddiness, and +totter'd across to the door, where I lean'd, listening and gazing south. +No strip of vapor lay on the moors that stretch'd--all bathed in the +most wonderful bright colors--to the lip of the horizon. The air was +like a sounding board. I heard the bleat of an old wether, a mile off, +upon the tors; and was turning away dejected, when, far down in the +south, there ran a sound that set my heart leaping. + +'Twas the crackling of musketry. + +There was no mistaking it. The noise ran like wildfire along the hills: +before echo could overtake it, a low rumbling followed, and then the +brisker crackling again. I caught at the door post and cried, faint with +the sudden joy--- + +"Thou angel, Joan!--thou angel!" + +And then, as something took me by the throat--"Joan, Joan--to see what +thou seest!" + +A long time I lean'd by the door post there, drinking in the sound that +now was renewed at quicker intervals. Yet, for as far as I could see, +'twas the peacefullest scene, though dreary--quiet sunshine on the +hills, and the sheep dotted here and there, cropping. But down yonder, +over the edge of the moors, men were fighting and murdering each other: +and I yearn'd to see how the day went. + +Being both weak and loth to miss a sound of it, I sank down on the +threshold, and there lay, with my eyes turned southward, through a gap +in the stone fence. In a while the musketry died away, and I wondered: +but thought I could still at times mark a low sound as of men shouting, +and this, as I learn'd after, was the true battle. + +It must have been an hour or more before I saw a number of black specks +coming over the ridge of hills, and swarming down into the plain toward +me: and then a denser body following. 'Twas a company of horse, moving +at a great pace: and I guessed that the battle was done, and these were +the first fugitives of the beaten army. + +On they came, in great disorder, scattering as they advanced: and now, +in parts, the hill behind was black with footmen, running. 'Twas a rout, +sure enough. Once or twice, on the heights, I beard a bugle blown, as if +to rally the crowd: but saw nothing come of it, and presently the notes +ceased, or I forgot to listen. + +The foremost company of horse was heading rather to the eastward of +me, to gain the high road; and the gross pass'd me by at half a mile's +distance. But some came nearer, and to my extreme joy, I learn'd from +their arms and shouting, what till now I had been eagerly hoping, that +'twas the rebel army thus running in rout: and tho' now without strength +to kneel, I had enough left to thank God heartily. + +'Twas so curious to see the plain thus suddenly fill'd with rabble, +all running from the south, and the silly startled sheep rushing +helter-skelter, and huddling together on the tors above, that I forgot +my own likely danger if any of this revengeful crew should come upon me +lying there: and was satisfied to watch them as they straggled over the +moors toward the road. Some pass'd close to the cottage; but none seem'd +anxious to pause there. 'Twas a glad and a sorry sight. I saw a troop of +dragoons with a standard in their midst; and a drummer running behind, +too far distracted even to cast his drum away, so that it dangled +against his back, with a great rent where the music had been; and then +two troopers running together; and one that was wounded lay down for a +while within a stone's throw of me, and would not go further, till at +last his comrade persuaded him; and after them a larger company, in +midst of whom was a man crying, "We are sold, I tell ye, and I can point +to the man!" and so passed by. There were some, too, that were galloping +three stout horses in a carriage, and upon it a brass twelve pounder. +But the carriage stuck fast in a quag, and so they cut the traces and +left it there, where, two days after, Sir John Berkeley's dragoons found +and pulled it out. And this was the fourth, I had heard, that the King's +troops took in that victory. + +Yet there were not above five or six hundred in all that I saw; and I +guessed (as was the case) that this must be but an off-shoot, so to say, +of the bigger rout that pass'd eastward through Liskeard. I was thinking +of this when I heard footsteps near, and a man came panting through a +gap in the wall, into the yard. + +He was a big, bareheaded fellow, exceedingly flush'd with running, but +unhurt, as far as I could see. Indeed, he might easily have kill'd me, +and for a moment I thought sure he would. But catching sight of me, +he nodded very friendly, and sitting on a heap of stones a yard or two +away, began to draw off his boot, and search for a prickle, that it +seem'd had got into it. + +"'Tis a mess of it, yonder," said he, quietly, and jerk'd his thumb over +his shoulder. + +By the look of me, he could tell I was on the other side; but this did +not appear to concern him. + +"How has it gone?" asked I. + +"Well," says he, with his nose in the boot; "we had a pretty rising +ground, and the Cornishmen march'd up and whipp'd us out--that's +all--and took a mort o' prisoners." He found the prickle, drew on his +boot again, and asked--- + +"T'other side?" + +I nodded. + +"That's the laughing side, this day. Good evening." + +And with that he went off as fast as he came. + +'Twas, may be, an hour after, that another came in through the same +gap: this time a lean, hawk-eyed man, with a pinch'd face and two ugly +gashes--one across the brow from left eye to the roots of his hair, the +other in his leg below the knee, that had sliced through boot and flesh +like a scythe-cut. His face was smear'd with blood, and he carried a +musket. + +"Water!" he bark'd out as he came trailing into the yard. "Give me +water--I'm a dead man!" + +He was stepping over me to enter the kitchen, when he halted and said--- + +"Art a malignant, for certain!" + +And before I had a chance to reply, his musket was swung up, and I felt +my time was come to die. + +But now the old savage, that had been sitting all day before his fire, +without so much as a sign to show if he noticed aught that was passing, +jump'd up with a yell and leap'd toward us. He and the cat were on the +poor wretch together, tearing and clawing. I can hear their hellish +outcries to this day: but at the moment they turn'd me faint. And the +next thing I recall is being dragged inside by the old man, who shut the +door after me and slipp'd the bolt, leaving the wounded trooper on the +other side. He beat against it for some time, sobbing piteously for +water: and then I heard him groaning at intervals, till he died. At +least, the groans ceased; and next day he was found with his back +against the cottage wall, stark and dead. + +Having pulled me inside, Joan's father must have thought he had done +enough: for on the floor I lay for hours, and passed from one swoon into +another. He and the cat had gone back to the fire again, and long before +evening both were sound asleep. + +So there I lay helpless, till, at nightfall, there came the trampling of +a horse outside, and then a rap on the door. The old man started up and +opened it: and in rushed Joan, her eyes lit up, her breast heaving, and +in her hand a naked sword. + +"Church and King, Jack!" she cried, and flung the blade with a clang on +to the table. "Church and King! O brave day's work, lad--O bloody work +this day!" + +And I swooned again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL +TINGCOMB. + + +There had, indeed, been brave work on Braddock Down that 19th of +January. For Sir Ralph Hopton with the Cornish grandees had made short +business of Ruthen's army--driving it headlong back on Liskeard at the +first charge, chasing it through that town, and taking 1,200 prisoners +(including Sir Shilston Calmady), together with many colors, all the +rebel ordnance and ammunition, and most of their arms. At Liskeard, +after refreshing their men, and holding next day a solemn thanksgiving +to God, they divided--the Lord Mohun with Sir Ralph Hopton and Colonel +Godolphin marching with the greater part of the army upon Saltash, +whither Ruthen had fled and was entrenching himself; while Sir John +Berkeley and Colonel Ashburnham, with a small party of horse and +dragoons and the voluntary regiments of Sir Bevill Grenville, Sir +Nich. Slanning, and Colonel Trevanion, turned to the northeast, toward +Launceston and Tavistock, to see what account they might render of the +Earl of Stamford's army; that, however, had no stomach to await them, +but posted out of the county into Plymouth and Exeter. + +'Twas on this expedition that two or three of the captains I have +mentioned halted for an hour or more at Temple, as well to recognize +Joan's extreme meritorious service, as to thank me for the part I had +in bringing news of the Earl of Stamford's advance. For 'twas this, they +own'd, had saved them--the King's message being but an exhortation +and an advertisement upon some lesser matters, the most of which were +already taken out of human hands by the turn of events. + +But though, as I learn'd, these gentlemen were full of compliments and +professions of esteem, I neither saw nor heard them, being by this time +delirious of a high fever that followed my wound. And not till three +good weeks after, was I recover'd enough to leave my bed, nor, for many +more, did my full strength return to me. No mother could have made a +tenderer nurse than was Joan throughout this time. 'Tis to her I owe it +that I am alive to write these words: and if the tears scald my eyes as +I do so, you will pardon them, I promise, before the end of my tail is +reach'd. + +In the first days of my recovery, news came to us (I forget how) that +a solemn sacrament had been taken between the parties in Devon and +Cornwall, and the country was a peace. Little I cared, at the time: but +was content--now spring was come--to loiter about the tors, and while +watching Joan at her work, to think upon Delia. For, albeit I had little +hope to see her again, my late pretty comrade held my thoughts the day +long. I shared them with nobody: for tho' 'tis probable I had let some +words fall in my delirium, Joan never hinted at this, and I never found +out. + +To Joan's company I was left: for her father, after saving my life that +afternoon, took no further notice of me by word or deed; and the cat, +Jan Tergagle (nam'd after a spirit that was said to haunt the moors +hereabouts), was as indifferent. So with Joan I passed the days idly, +tending the sheep, or waiting on her as she ploughed, or lying full +length on the hillside and talking with her of war and battles. 'Twas +the one topic on which she was curious (scoffing at me when I offered to +teach her to read print), and for hours she would listen to stories +of Alexander and Hannibal, Caesar and Joan of Arc, and other great +commanders whose history I remember'd. + +One evening--'twas early in May--we had climb'd to the top of the +grey tor above Temple, whence we could spy the white sails of the two +Channels moving, and, stretch'd upon the short turf there, I was telling +my usual tale. Joan lay beside me, her chin propp'd on one earth-stain'd +hand, her great solemn eyes wide open as she listened. Till that moment +I had regarded her rather as a man comrade than a girl, but now some +feminine trick of gesture awoke me perhaps, for my fancy began to +contrast her with Delia, and I broke off my story and sigh'd. + +"Art longing to be hence?" she asked. + +I felt ashamed to be thus caught, and was silent. She look'd at me and +went on-- + +"Speak out, lad." + +"Loth would I be to leave you, Joan." + +"And why?" + +"Why, we are good friends, I hope: and I am grateful." + +"Oh, aye--wish thee'd learn to speak the truth, Jack. Art longing to be +hence, and shalt--soon." + +"Why, Joan, you would not have me dwell here always?" + +She made no answer for a while, and then with a change of tone-- + +"Shalt ride wi' me to Bodmin Fair to-morrow for a treat, an' see the +Great Turk and the Fat 'Ooman and hocus-pocus. So tell me more 'bout +Joan the Frenchwoman." + +On the morrow, about nine in the morning, we set off--Joan on the +strawberry, balanced easily on an old sack, which was all her saddle; +and I on Molly, that now was sound again and chafing to be so idle. As +we set out, Joan's father for the first time took some notice of me, +standing at the door to see us off and shouting after us to bring home +some account of the wrestling. Looking back at a quarter mile's distance +I saw him still fram'd in the doorway, with the cat perch'd on his +shoulder. + +Bodmin town is naught but a narrow street, near on a mile long, and +widening toward the western end. It lies mainly along the south side of +a steep vale, and this May morning as Joan and I left the moors and rode +down to it from northward, already we could hear trumpets blowing, the +big drum sounding, and all the bawling voices and hubbub of the fair. +Descending, we found the long street lin'd with booths and shows, and +nigh blocked with the crowd: for the revel began early and was now in +full swing. And the crew of gipsies, whifflers, mountebanks, fortune +tellers, cut-purses and quacks, mix'd up with honest country faces, beat +even the rabble I had seen at Wantage. + +Now my own first business was with a tailor: for the clothes I wore +when I rode into Temple, four months back, had been so sadly messed with +blood, and afterward cut, to free them from my wound, that now all the +tunic I wore was of sackcloth, contrived and stitch'd together by Joan. +So I made at once for a decent shop, where luckily I found a suit to +fit me, one taken (the tailor said) off a very promising young gentleman +that had the misfortune to be kill'd on Braddock Down. Arrayed in this, +I felt myself again, and offered to take Joan to see the Fat Woman. + +We saw her, and the Aethiop, and the Rhinoceros (which put me in mind +of poor Anthony Killigrew), and the Pig-fac'd Baby, and the Cudgel play; +and presently halted before a Cheap Jack, that was crying his wares in a +prodigious loud voice, near the town wall. + +'Twas a meagre, sharp-visag'd fellow with a grey chin beard like a billy +goat's; and (as fortune would have it) spying our approach, he +picked out a mirror from his stock and holding it aloft, addressed us +straight-- + +"What have we here," cries he, "but a pair o' lovers coming? and what +i' my hand but a lover's hourglass? Sure the stars of heav'n must have a +hand in this conjuncture--and only thirteen pence, my pretty fellow, for +a glass that will tell the weather i' your sweetheart's face, and help +make it fine." + +There were many country fellows with their maids in the crowd, that +turned their heads at this address; and as usual the women began. + +"Tis Joan o' the Tor!" + +"Joan's picked up wi' a sweetheart--tee-hee!--an' us reckoned her'd +forsworn mankind!" + +"Who is he?" + +"Some furriner, sure: that likes garlic." + +"He's bought her no ribbons yet." + +"How should he, poor lad; that can find no garments upon her to fasten +'em to?" + +And so on, with a deal of spiteful laughter. Some of these sayings +were half truth, no doubt: but the truthfullest word may be infelix. +So noting a dark flush on Joan's cheek, I thought to end the scene by +taking the Cheap Jack's mirror on the spot, to stop his tongue, and then +drawing her away. + +But in this I was a moment too late; for just as I reached up my hand +with the thirteen pence, and the grinning fellow on the platform bent +forward with his mirror, I heard a coarser jest, a rush in the crowd, +and two heads go _crack!_ together like eggs. 'Twas two of Joan's +tormentors she had taken by the hair and served so: and dropping them +the next instant had caught the Cheap Jack's beard, as you might a bell +rope, and wrench'd him head-foremost off his stand, my thirteen pence +flying far and wide. Plump he fell into the crowd, that scatter'd on all +hands as Joan pummelled him: and _whack, whack!_ fell the blows on the +poor idiot's face, who scream'd for mercy, as though Judgment Day were +come. + +No one, for the minute, dared to step between them: and presently Joan +looking up, with arm raised for another buffet, spied a poor Astrologer +close by, in a red and yellow gown, that had been reading fortunes in a +tub of black water beside him, but was now broken off, dismayed at the +hubbub. To this tub she dragged the Cheap Jack and sent him into it with +a round souse. The black water splashed right and left over the crowd. +Then, her wrath sated, Joan faced the rest, with hands on hips, and +waited for them to come on. + +Not a word had she spoken, from first to last: but stood now with hot +cheeks and bosom heaving. Then, finding none to take up her challenge, +she strode out through the folk, and I after her, with the mirror in my +hand; while the Cheap Jack picked himself out of the tub, whining, and +the Astrologer wip'd his long white beard and soil'd robe. + +Outside the throng was a carriage, stopp'd for a minute by this tumult, +and a servant at the horses' heads. By the look of it, 'twas the coach +of some person of quality; and glancing at it I saw inside an old +gentleman with a grave venerable face, seated. For the moment it flash'd +on me I had seen him before, somewhere: and cudgell'd my wits to +think where it had been. But a second and longer gaze assured me I was +mistaken, and I went on down the street after Joan. + +She was walking fast and angry; nor when I caught her up and tried to +soothe, would she answer me but in the shortest words. Woman's justice, +as I had just learn'd, has this small defect--it goes straight enough, +but mainly for the wrong object. Which now I proved in my own case. + +"Where are you going, Joan?" + +"To 'Fifteen Balls'' stable, for my horse." + +"Art not leaving the fair yet, surely!" + +"That I be, tho'. Have had fairing enow--wi' a man!" + +Nor for a great part of the way home would she speak to me. But meeting, +by Pound Scawens (a hamlet close to the road), with some friends going +to the fair, she stopp'd for a while to chat with them, whilst I rode +forward: and when she overtook me, her brow was clear again. + +"Am a hot headed fool, Jack, and have spoil'd thy day for thee." + +"Nay, that you have not," said I, heartily glad to see her humble, for +the first time in our acquaintance: "but if you have forgiven me that +which I could not help, you shall take this that I bought for you, in +proof." + +And pulling out the mirror, I lean'd over and handed it to her. + +"What i' the world be this?" she ask'd, taking and looking at it +doubtfully. + +"Why, a mirror." + +"What's that?" + +"A glass to see your face in," I explained. + +"Be this my face?" She rode forward, holding up the glass in front +of her. "Why, what a handsome looking gal I be, to be sure! Jack, art +certain 'tis my very own face?" + +"To be sure," said I amazed. + +"Well!" There was silence for a full minute, save for our horses' tread +on the high road. And then-- + +"Jack, I be powerful dirty!" + +This was true enough, and it made me laugh. She looked up solemnly at my +mirth (having no sense of a joke, then or ever) and bent forward to the +glass again. + +"By the way," said I, "did you mark a carriage just outside the crowd, +by the Cheap Jack's booth?--with a white-hair'd gentleman seated +inside?" + +Joan nodded. "Master Hannibal Tingcomb: steward o' Gleys." + +"What!" + +I jumped in my saddle, and with a pull at the bridle brought Molly to a +standstill. + +"Of Gleys?" I cried. "Steward of Sir Deakin Killigrew that was?" + +"Right, lad, except the last word. 'That _is_,' should'st rather say." + +"Then you are wrong, Joan: for he's dead and buried, these five months. +Where is this house of Gleys? for to-morrow I must ride there." + +"'Tis easy found, then: for it stands on the south coast yonder, and +no house near it: five mile from anywhere, and sixteen from Temple, due +south. Shall want thee afore thou startest, Jack. Dear, now! who'd ha' +thought I was so dirty?" + +The cottage door stood open as we rode into the yard, and from it a +faint smoke came curling, with a smell of peat. Within I found the +smould'ring turves scattered about as on the day of my first arrival, +and among them Joan's father stretch'd, flat on his face: only this time +the eat was curl'd up quietly, and lying between the old man's shoulder +blades. + +"Drunk again," said Joan shortly. + +But looking more narrowly, I marked a purplish stain on the ground by +the old man's mouth, and turned him softly over. + +"Joan," said I, "he's not drunk--he's dead!" + +She stood above us and looked down, first at the corpse, then at me, +without speaking for a time: at last--- + +"Then I reckon he may so well be buried." + +"Girl," I call'd out, being shocked at this callousness, "'tis your +father--and he is dead!" + +"Why that's so, lad. An he were alive, shouldn't trouble thee to bury +'n." + +And so, before night, we carried him up to the bleak tor side, and dug +his grave there; the black cat following us to look. Five feet deep we +laid him, having dug down to solid rock; and having covered him over, +went silently back to the hovel. Joan had not shed a single tear. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS. + + +Very early next morning I awoke, and hearing no sound in the loft above +(whither, since my coming, Joan had carried her bed), concluded her to +be still asleep. But in this I was mistaken: for going to the well at +the back to wash, I found her there, studying her face in the mirror. + +"Luckily met, Jack," she said, when I was cleansed and freshly glowing: +"Now fill another bucket and sarve me the same." + +"Cannot you wash yourself?" I ask'd, as I did so. + +"Lost the knack, I reckon. Stand thee so, an' slush the water over me." + +"But your clothes!" I cried out, "they'll be soaking wet!" + +"Clothes won't be worse for a wash, neither. So slush away." + +Therefore, standing at three paces' distance, I sent a bucketful over +her, and then another and another. Six times I filled and emptied the +bucket in all: and at the end she was satisfied, and went, dripping, +back to the kitchen to get me my breakfast. + +"Art early abroad," she said, as we sat together over the meal. + +"Yes, for I must ride to Gleys this morning." + +"Shan't be sorry to miss thee for a while. Makes me feel so shy--this +cleanliness." So, promising to be back by nightfall, I went presently to +saddle Molly: and following Joan's directions and her warnings against +quags and pitfalls, was soon riding south across the moor and well on my +road to the House of Gleys. + +My way leading me by Braddock Down, I turned aside for a while to +examine the ground of the late fight (tho' by now little was to be seen +but a piece of earthwork left unfinish'd by the rebels, and the fresh +mounds where the dead were laid); and so 'twas high noon--and a dull, +cheerless day--before the hills broke and let me have sight of the sea. +Nor, till the noise of the surf was in my ears, did I mark the chimneys +and naked grey walls of the house I was bound for. + +'Twas a gloomy, savage pile of granite, perch'd at the extremity of a +narrow neck of land, where every wind might sweep it, and the waves beat +on three sides the cliff below. The tide was now at the full, almost, +and the spray flying in my face, as we crossed the head of a small +beach, forded a stream, and scrambled up the rough road to the entrance +gate. + +A thin line of smoke blown level from one chimney was all the sign of +life in the building: for the narrow lights of the upper story were +mostly shuttered, and the lower floor was hid from me by a high wall +enclosing a courtlage in front. One stunted ash, with boughs tortured +and bent toward the mainland, stood by the gate, which was lock'd. A +smaller door, also lock'd, was let into the gate, and in this again a +shuttered iron grating. Hard by, dangled a rusty bell-pull, at which I +tugg'd sturdily. + +On this, a crack'd bell sounded, far in the house, and scared a flock of +starlings out of a disused chimney. Their cries died away presently, and +left no sound but that of the gulls wailing about the cliff at my feet. +This was all the answer I won. + +I rang again, and a third time: and now at last came the sound of +footsteps shuffling across the court within. The shutter of the grating +was slipp'd back, and a voice, crack'd as the bell, asked my business. + +"To see Master Hannibal Tingcomb," answered I. + +"Thy name?" + +"He shall hear it in time. Say that I come on business concerning the +estate." + +The voice mutter'd something, and the footsteps went back. I had been +kicking my heels there for twenty minutes or more when they returned, +and the voice repeated the question--- + +"Thy name?" + +Being by this time angered, I did a foolish thing; which was, to clap +the muzzle of my pistol against the grating, close to the fellow's nose. +Singular to say, the trick serv'd me. A bolt was slipp'd hastily back +and the wicket door opened stealthily. + +"I want," said I, "room for my horse to pass." + +Thereupon more grumbling follow'd, and a prodigious creaking of bolts +and chains; after which the big gate swung stiffly back. + +"Sure, you must be worth a deal," I said, "that shut yourselves in so +careful." + +Before me stood a strange fellow--extraordinary old and bent, with a +wizen'd face, one eye only, and a chin that almost touched his nose. He +wore a dirty suit of livery, that once had been canary-yellow; and shook +with the palsy. + +"Master Tingcomb will see the young man," he squeak'd, nodding his head; +"but is a-reading just now in his Bible." + +"A pretty habit," answered I, leading in Molly--"if unseasonable. But +why not have said so?" + +He seem'd to consider this for a while, and then said abruptly-- + +"Have some pasty and some good cider?" + +"Why yes," I said, "with all my heart, when I have stabled the sorrel +here." + +He led the way across the court, well paved but chok'd with weeds, +toward the stable. I found it a spacious building, and counted sixteen +stalls there; but all were empty save two, where stood the horses I had +seen in Bodmin the day before. Having stabled Molly, I left the place +(which was thick with cobwebs) and follow'd the old servant into the +house. + +He took me into a great stone kitchen, and brought out the pasty and +cider, but poured out half a glass only. + +"Have a care, young man: 'tis a luscious, thick, seductive drink," and +he chuckled. + +"'Twould turn the edge of a knife," said I, tasting it and looking at +him: but his one blear'd eye was inscrutable. The pasty also was mouldy, +and I soon laid it down. + +"Hast a proud stomach that cometh of faring sumptuously: the beef +therein is our own killing," said he. "Young sir, art a man of blood, I +greatly fear, by thy long sword and handiness with the firearms." + +"Shall be presently," answered I, "if you lead me not to Master +Tingcomb." + +He scrambled up briskly and totter'd out of the kitchen into a stone +corridor, I after him. Along this he hurried, muttering all the way, and +halted before a door at the end. Without knocking he pushed it open, and +motioning me to enter, hasten'd back as he had come. + +"Come in," said a voice that seem'd familiar to me. + +Though, as you know, 'twas still high day, in the room where now I found +myself was every appearance of night: the shutters being closed, and +six lighted candles standing on the table. Behind them sat the venerable +gentleman whom I had seen in the coach, now wearing a plain suit of +black, and reading in a great book that lay open on the table. I guess'd +it to be the Bible; but noted that the candles had shades about them, +so disposed as to throw the light, not on the page, but on the doorway +where I stood. + +Yet the old gentleman, having bid me enter, went on reading for a while +as though wholly unaware of me: which I found somewhat nettling, so +began--- + +"I speak, I believe, to Master Hannibal Tingcomb, steward to Sir Deakin +Killigrew." + +He went on, as if ending his sentence aloud: "... And my darling from +the power of the dog." Here he paused with finger on the place and +looked up. "Yes, young sir, that is my name--steward to the late Sir +Deakin Killigrew." + +"The late?" cried I: "Then you know--" + +"Surely I know that Sir Deakin is dead: else should I be but an unworthy +steward." He open'd his grave eyes as if in wonder. + +"And his son, also?" + +"Also his son Anthony, a headstrong boy, I fear me, a consorter with +vile characters. Alas? that I should say it." + +"And his daughter, Mistress Delia?" + +"Alas!" and he fetched a deep sigh. + +"Do you mean, sir, that she too is dead!" + +"Why, to be sure-but let us talk on less painful matters." + +"In one moment, sir: but first tell me--where did she die, and when?" + +For my heart stood still, and I was fain to clutch the table between us +to keep me from falling. I think this did not escape him, for he gave me +a sharp look, and then spoke very quiet and hush'd, + +"She was cruelly kill'd by highwaymen, at the 'Three Cups' inn, some +miles out of Hungerford. The date given me is the 3d of December last." + +With this a great rush of joy came over me, and I blurted out, +delighted-- + +"There, sir, you are wrong! Her father was kill'd on the night of which +you speak--cruelly enough, as you say: but Mistress Delia Killigrew +escaped, and after the most incredible adventures--" + +I was expecting him to start up with joy at my announcement; but instead +of this, he gaz'd at me very sorrowfully and shook his head; which +brought me to a stand. + +"Sir," I said, changing my tone, "I speak but what I know: for 'twas I +had the happy fortune to help her to escape, and, under God's hand, to +bring her safe to Cornwall." + +"Then, where is she now?" + +Now this was just what I could not tell. So, standing before him, I +gave him my name and a history of all my adventures in my dear comrade's +company, from the hour when I saw her first in the inn at Hungerford. +Still keeping his finger on the page, he heard me to the end +attentively, but with a curling of the lips toward the close, such as I +did not like. And when I had done, to my amaze he spoke out sharply, and +as if to a whipp'd schoolboy. + +"'Tis a cock-and-bull story, sir, of which I could hope to make you +ashamed. Six weeks in your company? and in boy's habit? Surely 'twas +enough the pure unhappy maid should be dead--without such vile slander +on her fame, and from you, that were known, sir, to have been at that +inn, and on that night, with her murderers. Boy, I have evidence that, +taken with your confession, would weave you a halter; and am a Justice +of the Peace. Be thankful, then, that I am a merciful man; yet be +abash'd." + +Abash'd, indeed, I was; or at least taken aback, to see his holy +indignation and the flush on his waxen cheek. Like a fool I stood +staggered, and wondered dimly where I had heard that thin voice before. +In the confusion of my senses I heard it say solemnly--- + +"The sins of her fathers have overtaken her, as the Book of Exodus +proclaim'd: therefore is her inheritance wasted, and given to the satyr +and the wild ass." + +[Illustration: "What did you in Oxford last November?"--Page 219.] + +"And which of the twain be you, sir?" + +I cannot tell what forced this violent rudeness from me, for he seem'd +an honest, good man; but my heart was boiling that any should put so +ill a construction on my Delia. As for him, he had risen, and was moving +with dignity to the door--to show me out, as I guess. When suddenly I, +that had been staring stupidly, leap'd upon him and hurled him back into +his chair. + +For I had marked his left foot trailing, and, by the token, knew him for +the white hair'd man of the bowling-green. + +"Master Hannibal Tingcomb," I spoke in his ear, "--dog and murderer! +What did you in Oxford last November? And how of Captain Lucius Higgs, +otherwise Captain Luke Settle, otherwise Mr. X.? Speak, before I serve +you as the dog was served that night!" + +I dream yet, in my sick nights, of the change that came over the vile, +hypocritical knave at these words of mine. To see his pale venerable +face turn green and livid, his eyeball start, his hands clutch at +air--it frighten'd me. + +"Brandy!" he gasped. "Brandy! there--quick--for God's sake!" + +And the next moment he had slipp'd from my grasp, and was wallowing in +a fit on the floor. I ran to the cupboard at which he had pointed, and +finding there a bottle of strong waters, forced some drops between his +teeth; and hard work it was, he gnashing at me all the time and foaming +at the mouth. + +Presently he ceased to writhe and bite: and lifting, I set him in his +chair, where he lay, a mere limp bundle, staring and blinking. So I sat +down facing him, and waited his recovery. + +"Dear young sir," he began at length feebly, his fingers searching the +Bible before him, from force of habit. "Kind young sir--I am an old, +dying man, and my sins have found me out. Only yesterday, the physician +at Bodmin told me that my days are numbered. This is the second attack, +and the third will kill me." + +"Well?" said I. + +"If--if Mistress Delia be alive (as indeed I did not think), I will make +restitution--I will confess--only tell me what to do, that I may die in +peace." + +Indeed, he look'd pitiable, sitting there and stammering: but I harden'd +my heart to say--- + +"I must have a confession, then, written before I leave the room." + +"But, dear young friend, you will not use it if I give up all? You will +not seek my life? that already is worthless, as you see." + +"Why, 'tis what you deserve. But Delia shall say when I find her--as +I shall go straight to seek her. If she be lost, I shall use it--never +fear: if she be found, it shall be hers to say what mercy she can +discover in her heart; but I promise you I shall advise none." + +The tears by this were coursing down his shrunken cheeks, but I observ'd +him watch me narrowly, as though to find out how much I knew. So I +pull'd out my pistol, and setting pen and paper before him, obtained +at the end of an hour a very pretty confession of his sins, which lies +among my papers to this day. When 'twas written and sign'd, in a weak, +rambling hand, I read it through, folded it, placed it inside my coat, +and prepared to take my leave. + +But he called out an order to the old servant to saddle my mare, and +stood softly praying and beseeching me in the courtyard till the last +moment. Nor when I was mounted would anything serve but he must follow +at my stirrup to the gate. But when I had briefly taken leave, and the +heavy doors had creaked behind me, I heard a voice calling after me down +the road--- + +"Dear young sir! Dear friend!--I had forgotten somewhat." + +Returning, I found the gate fastened, and the iron shutter slipp'd back. + +"Well?" I asked, leaning toward it. + +"Dear young friend, I pity thee, for thy paper is worthless. To-day, by +my advices, the army of our most Christian Parliament, more than twenty +thousand strong, under the Earl of Stamford, have overtaken thy friends, +the malignant gentry, near Stratton Heath, in the northeast. They are +more than two to one. By this hour to-morrow, the Papists all will be +running like conies to their burrows, and little chance wilt thou have +to seek Delia Killigrew, much less to find her. And remember, I know +enough of thy late services to hang thee: mercy then will lie in my +friends' hands; but be sure I shall advise none." + +And with a mocking laugh he clapp'd--to the grating in my face. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS. + + +You may guess how I felt at being thus properly fooled. And the worst +was I could see no way to mend it; for against the barricade between us +I might have beat myself for hours, yet only hurt my fists: and the wall +was so smooth and high, that even by standing on Molly's back I could +not--by a foot or more--reach the top to pull myself over. + +There was nothing for it but to turn homewards, down the hill: which I +did, chewing the cud of my folly, and finding it bitter as gall. What +consoled me somewhat was the reflection that his threats were, likely +enough, mere vaporing: for of any breach of the late compact between +the parties I had heard nothing, and never seem'd a country more wholly +given up to peace than that through which I had ridden in the morning. +So recalling Master Tingcomb's late face of terror, and the confession +in my pocket, I felt more cheerful. "England has grown a strange place, +if I cannot get justice on this villain," thought I; and rode forward, +planning a return-match and a sweet revenge. + +There is no more soothing game, I believe, in the world than this of +holding imaginary triumphant discourse with your enemy. Yet (oddly) it +brought me but cold comfort on this occasion, my wound being too recent +and galling. The sky, so long clouded, was bright'ning now, and growing +serener every minute: the hills were thick with fox-gloves, the vales +white with hawthorn, smelling very sweetly in the cool of the day: but +I, with the bridle flung on Molly's neck, pass'd them by, thinking only +of my discomfiture, and barely rousing myself to give back a "Good-day" +to those that met me on the road. Nor, till we were on the downs and +Joan's cottage came in sight, did I shake the brooding off. + +Joan was not in the kitchen when I arrived, nor about the buildings; nor +yet could I spy her anywhere moving on the hills. So, after calling to +her once or twice, I stabled the mare, and set off up the tor side to +seek her. + +Now I must tell you that since the day of my coming I had made many +attempts to find the place where Joan had then hidden me, and always +fruitlessly: though I knew well whereabouts it must be. Indeed, I had +thought at first I had only to walk straight to the hole: yet found +after repeated trials but solid earth and boulders for my pains. + +But to-day as I climb'd past the spot, something very bright flashed in +my eyes and dazzled me, and rubbing them and looking, I saw a great hole +in the hill--facing to the sou'-west--in the very place I had search'd +for it; and out of this a beam of light glancing. + +Creeping near on tiptoe, I found one huge block of granite that before +had seemed bedded, among a dozen fellow-boulders, against the turf--the +base resting on another well-nigh as big--was now rolled back; having +been fixed to work smoothly on a pivot, yet so like nature that no eye, +but by chance, could detect it. Now, who in the beginning designed this +hiding place I leave you to consider; and whether it was the Jews or +Phoenicians--nations, I am told, that once work'd the hills around for +tin. But inside 'twas curiously paved and lined with slabs of granite, +the specks of ore in which, I noted, were the points of light that had +once puzzled me. And here was Joan's bower, and Joan herself inside it. + +She was sitting with her back to me, in her left hand holding up the +mirror, that caught the rays of the now sinking sun (and thus had +dazzled me), while with her right she tried to twist into some form of +knot her tresses--black, and coarse as a horse's mane--that already she +had roughly braided. A pail of water stood beside her; and around lay +scatter'd a score or more of long thorns, cut to the shape of hair pins. + +'Tis probable that after a minute's watching I let some laughter escape +me. At any rate Joan turned, spied me, and scrambled up, with an angry +red on her cheek. Then I saw that her bodice was neater lac'd than +usual, and a bow of yellow ribbon (fish'd up heaven knows whence) stuck +in the bosom. But the strangest thing was to note the effect of this new +tidiness upon her: for she took a step forward as if to cuff me by the +ear (as, a day agone, she would have done), and then stopp'd, very shy +and hesitating. + +"Why, Joan," said I, "don't be anger'd. It suits you choicely--it does +indeed." + +"Art scoffing, I doubt." She stood looking heavily and askance at me. + +"On my faith, no: and what a rare tiring-bower the Jew's Kitchen makes! +Come, Joan, be debonair and talk to me, for I am out of luck to-day." + +"Forgit it, then" (and she pointed to the sun), "whiles yet some o't is +left. Tell me a tale, an thou'rt minded." + +"Of what?" + +"O' the bloodiest battle thou'st ever heard tell on." + +So, sitting by the mouth of the Jew's Kitchen, I told her as much as I +could remember out of Homer's Iliad, wondering the while what my tutor, +Mr. Josias How, of Trinity College, would think to hear me so use his +teaching. By-and-bye, as I warm'd to the tale, Joan forgot her new +smartness; and at length, when Hector was running from Achilles round +the walls, clapp'd her hands for excitement, crying, "Church an' King, +lad! Oh, brave work!" + +"Why, no," answered I, "'twas not for that they were fighting;" and +looking at her, broke off with, "Joan, art certainly a handsome girl: +give me a kiss for the mirror." + +Instead of flying out, as I look'd for, she fac'd round, and answered me +gravely--- + +"That I will not: not to any but my master." + +"And who is that?" + +"No man yet; nor shall be till one has beat me sore: him will I love, +an' follow like a dog--if so be he whack me often enow'." + +"A strange way to love," laughed I. + +She look'd at me straight, albeit with an odd gloomy light in her eyes. + +"Think so, Jack? then I give thee leave to try." + +I think there is always a brutality lurking in a man to leap out +unawares. Yet why do I seek excuses, that have never yet found one? To +be plain, I sprang fiercely up and after Joan, who had already started, +and was racing along the slope. + +Twice around the tor she led me: and though I strain'd my best, not +a yard could I gain upon her, for her bare feet carried her light and +free. Indeed, I was losing ground, when coming to the Jew's Kitchen a +second time, she tried to slip inside and shut the stone in my face. + +Then should I have been prettily bemock'd, had I not, with a great +effort, contrived to thrust my boot against the door just as it was +closing. Wrenching it open, I laid hand on her shoulder; and in a moment +she had gripp'd me, and was wrestling like a wild-cat. + +Now being Cumberland-bred I knew only the wrestling of my own county, +and nothing of the Cornish style. For in the north they stand well +apart, and try to wear down one another's strength: whereas the Cornish +is a brisker lighter play--and (as I must confess) prettier to watch. +So when Joan rush'd in and closed with me, I was within an ace of being +thrown, pat. + +But recovering, I got her at arm's length, and held her so, while my +heart ach'd to see my fingers gripping her shoulders and sinking into +the flesh. I begg'd off; but she only fought and panted, and struggled +to lock me by the ankles again. I could not have dream'd to find such +fierce strength in a girl. Once or twice she nearly overmastered me: but +at length my stubborn play wore her out. Her breath came short and fast, +then fainter: and in the end, still holding her off, I turned her by the +shoulders, and let her drop quietly on the turf. No thought had I any +longer of kissing her; but stood back, heartily sick and ashamed of +myself. + +For awhile she lay, turn'd over on her side, with hands guarding her +head, as if expecting me to strike her. Then gathering herself up, she +came and put her hand in mine, very meekly. + +"Had lik'd it better had'st thou stamped the life out o' me, a'most. But +there, lad--am thine forever!" + +'Twas like a buffet in the face to me. "What!" I cried. + +She look'd up in my face--dear Heaven, that I should have to write +it!--with eyes brimful, sick with love; tried to speak, but could only +nod: and broke into a wild fit of tears. + +I was standing there with her hand in mine, and a burning remorse in my +heart, when I heard the clear notes of a bugle blown, away on the road +to Launceston. + +Looking that way, I saw a great company of horse coming down over the +crest, the sun shining level on their arms and a green standard that +they bore in their midst. + +Joan spied them the same instant, and check'd her sobs. Without a word +we flung ourselves down full length on the turf to watch. + +They were more than a thousand, as I guess'd, and came winding down the +road very orderly, till, being full of them, it seem'd a long serpent +writhing with shiny scales. The tramp of hoofs and jingling of bits were +pretty to hear. + +"Rebels!" whisper'd I. + +Joan nodded. + +There were three regiments in all, whereof the first (and biggest) was +of dragoons. So clear was the air, I could almost read the legend on +their standard, and the calls of their captains were borne up to us +extremely distinct. + +As they rode leisurely past, I thought of Master Tingcomb's threat, and +wonder'd what this array could intend. Nor, turning it over, could I +find any explanation: for the Earl of Stamford's gathering, he had said, +was in the northeast, and I knew such troops as the Cornish generals had +to be quarter'd at Launceston. Yet here, on the near side of Launceston, +was a large body of rebel horse marching quietly to the sou'-west. Where +was the head or tail to it? + +Turning my head as the last rider disappear'd on the way to Bodmin, I +spied a squat oddly shap'd man striding down the hill very briskly: yet +he look'd about him often and kept to the hollows of the ground; and was +crossing below us, as it appeared, straight for Joan's cottage. + +Cried I: "There is but one man in the world with such a gait--and that's +Billy Pottery!" + +And jumping to my feet (for he was come directly beneath us) I caught up +a great stone and sent it bowling down the slope. + +Bounce it went past him, missing his legs by a foot or less. The man +turn'd, and catching sight of me as I stood waving, made his way up +the hill. 'Twas indeed Captain Bilty: and coming up, the honest fellow +almost hugg'd me for joy. + +"Was seeking thee, Jack," he bawled: "learn'd from Sir Bevill where +belike I might find thee. Left his lodging at Launceston this mornin', +and trudged ivery foot o' the way. A thirsty land, Jack--neither horse's +meat nor man's meat therein, nor a chair to sit down on: an' three women +only have I kiss'd this day!" He broke off and look'd at Joan. "Beggin' +the lady's pardon for sea manners and way o' speech." + +"Joan," said I, "this is Billy Pottery, a good mariner and friend of +mine: and as deaf as a haddock." + +Billy made a leg; and as I pointed to the road where the cavalry had +just disappeared, went on with a nod--- + +"That's so: old Sir G'arge Chudleigh's troop o' horse sent off to Bodmin +to seize the High Sheriff and his _posse_ there. Two hour agone I spied +'em, and ha' been ever since playin' spy." + +"Then where be the King's forces?" I made shift to enquire by signs. + +"March'd out o' Launceston to-day, lad--an' but a biscuit a man between +'em, poor dears--for Stratton Heath, i' the nor'-east, where the rebels +be encamp'd. Heard by scouts o' these gentry bein' sent to Bodmin, and +were minded to fight th' Earl o' Stamford whiles his dragooners was +away. An' here's the long an' short o't: thou'rt wanted, lad, to bear a +hand wi' us up yonder--an the good lady here can spare thee." + +And here we both look'd at Joan--I shamefacedly enough, and Billy with a +puzzled air, which he tried very delicately to hide. + +She put her hand in mine. + +"To fight, lad?" + +I nodded my head. + +"Then go," she said without a shade in her voice; and as I made no +answer, went on--"Shall a woman hinder when there's fightin' toward? +Only come back when thy wars be over, for I shall miss thee, Jack." + +And dropping my hand she led the way down to the cottage. + +Now Billy, of course, had not heard a word of this: but perhaps he +gathered some import. Any way, he pull'd up short midway on the slope, +scratched his head, and thunder'd--- + +"What a good lass!" + +Joan, some paces ahead, turn'd at this and smil'd: whereat, having no +idea he'd spoken above a whisper, Billy blush'd red as any peony. + +'Twas but a short half hour when, the mare being saddled and Billy fed, +we took our leave of Joan. Billy walked beside one stirrup, and the +girl on the other side, to see us a few yards on our way. At length she +halted--- + +"No leave-takin's, Jack, but 'Church and King!' Only do thy best and not +disgrace me." + +And "Church and King!" she call'd thrice after us, standing in the road. +For me, as I rode up out of that valley, the drums seem'd beating and +the bugles calling to a new life ahead. The last light of day was on the +tors, the air blowing fresher as we mounted: and with Molly's every step +the past five months appear'd to dissolve and fall away from me as a +dream. + +On the crest, I turn'd in the saddle. Joan was yet standing there, a +black speck on the road. She waved her hand once. + +Billy had turn'd too, and, uncovering, shouted so that the hilltops +echoed. + +"A good lass--a good lass! But what's become o' t'other one?" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH. + + +Night came, and found us but midway between Temple and Lannceston: for +tho' my comrade stepp'd briskly beside me, 'twas useless to put Molly +beyond a walk; and besides, the mare was new from her day's journey. +This troubled me the less by reason of the moon (now almost at the +full), and the extreme whiteness of the road underfoot, so that there +was no fear of going astray. And Billy engaged that by sunrise we should +be in sight of the King's troops. + +"Nay, Jack," he said, when by signs I offered him to ride and tie: +"never rode o' horseback but once, and then 'pon Parson Spinks his red +mare at Bideford. Parson i' those days was courtin' the Widow Hambly, +over to Torrington: an' I, that wanted to fare to Barnstaple, spent that +mornin' an' better part o' th' afternoon, clawin' off Torrington. And +th' end was the larboard halyards broke, an' the mare gybed, an' to +Torrington I went before the wind, wi' an unseemly bloody nose. 'Lud!' +cries the widow, ''tis the wrong man 'pon the right horse!' 'Pardon, +mistress,' says I, 'the man is well enow, but 'pon the wrong horse, for +sure.'" + +Now and then, as we went, I would dismount and lead Molly by the bridle +for a mile or so: and all the way to Launceston Billy was recounting his +adventures since our parting. It appeared that, after leaving me, they +had come to Plymouth with a fair passage: but before they could unlade, +had advertisement of the Governor's design to seize all vessels then +riding in the Sound, for purposes of war; and so made a quick escape by +night into Looe Haven, where they had the fortune to part with the best +part of their cargo at a high profit. 'Twas while unlading here that +Billy had a mind to pay a debt he ow'd to a cousin of his at Altarnun, +and, leaving Matt Soames in charge, had tramped northward through +Liskeard to Launceston, where he found the Cornish forces, and was met +by the news of the Earl of Stamford's advance in the northeast. Further, +meeting, in Sir Bevill's troop, with some north coast men of his +acquaintance, he fell to talking, and so learn'd about me and my ride +toward Braddock, which (it seem'd) was now become common knowledge. This +led him to seek Sir Bevill, with the result that you know: "for," as he +wound up, "'tis a desirable an' rare delight to pay a debt an' see some +fun, together." + +We had some trouble at Launceston gate, where were a few burghers posted +for sentries, and, as I could see, ready to take fright at their own +shadows. But Billy gave the watchword ("One and All"), and presently +they let us through. As we pass'd along the street we marked a light +in every window almost, tho' 'twas near midnight; and the people moving +about behind their curtains. There were groups too in the dark doorways, +gather'd there discussing, that eyed us as we went by, and answered +Billy's _Good-night, honest men!_ very hoarse and doubtfully. + +But when we were beyond the town, and between hedges again, I think I +must have dozed off in my saddle. For, though this was a road full of +sharp memories, being the last I had traveled with Delia, I have no +remembrance to have felt them; or, indeed, of noting aught but the fresh +night air, and the constellation of the Bear blazing ahead, and Billy's +voice resonant beside me. + +And after this I can recall passing the tower of Marham Church, with the +paling sky behind it, and some birds chattering in the carved courses: +and soon (it seem'd) felt Billy's grip on my knee, and open'd my eyes to +see his finger pointing. + +We stood on a ridge above a hollow vale into which the sun, though now +bright, did not yet pierce, but passing over to a high, conical hill +beyond, smote level on line after line of white tents--the prettiest +sight! 'Twas the enemy there encamped on the top and some way down the +sides, the smoke of their trampled watch fires still curling among the +gorsebushes. I heard their trumpets calling and drums beating to arms; +for though, glancing back at the sun, I judged it to be hardly past four +in the morning, yet already the slopes were moving like an ant-hill--the +regiments gathering, arms flashing, horsemen galloping to and fro, and +the captains shouting their commands. In the distance this had a sweet +and cheerful sound, no more disquieting than a ploughboy calling to his +team. + +Looking down into the valley at our feet, at first I saw no sign of our +own troops--only the roofs of a little town, with overmuch smoke spread +above it, like a morning mist. But here also I heard the church bells +clashing and a drum beating, and presently spied a gleam of arms down +among the trees, and then a regiment of foot moving westward along the +base of the hill. 'Twas evident the battle was at hand, and we quicken'd +our pace down into the street. + +It lay on the slope, and midway down we pass'd some watch fires burn'd +out; and then a soldier or two running and fastening their straps; and +last a little child, that seem'd wild with the joy of living amid great +events, but led us pretty straight to the sign of "The Tree," which +indeed was the only tavern. + +It stood some way back from the street, with a great elm before the +porch: where by a table sat two men, with tankards beside them, and a +small company of grooms and soldiers standing round. Both men were more +than ordinary tall and soldier like: only the bigger wore a scarlet +cloak very richly lac'd, and was shouting orders to his men; while +the other, dress'd in plain buff suit and jack boots, had a map spread +before him, which he studied very attentively, writing therein with a +quill pen. + +"What a plague have we here?" cries the big man, as we drew up. + +"Recruits if it please you, sir," said I, dismounting and pulling off my +hat, tho' his insolent tone offended me. + +"S'lid! The boy speaks as if he were a regiment," growls he, half aloud: +"Can'st fight?" + +"That, with your leave, sir, is what I am come to try." + +"And this rascal?" He turned on Billy. + +Billy heard not a word, of course, yet answered readily-- + +"Why, since your honor is so pleasantly minded--let it be cider." + +Now the first effect of this, deliver'd with all force of lung, was +to make the big man sit bolt upright and staring: recovering speech, +however, he broke into a volley of blasphemous curses. + +All this while the man in buff had scarce lifted his eyes off the map. +But now he looks up--and I saw at the first glance that the two men +hated each other. + +"I think," said he quietly, "my Lord Mohun has forgot to ask the +_gentleman's_ name." + +"My name is Marvel, sir--John Marvel." I answer'd him with a bow. + +"Hey!"--and dropping his pen he starts up and grasps my hand--"Then 'tis +you I have never thanked for His Gracious Majesty's letter." + +"The General Hopton?" cried I. + +"Even so, sir. My lord," he went on, still holding my hand and turning +to his companion, "let me present to you the gentleman that in +January sav'd your house of Bocconnoc from burning at the hands of the +rebels--whom God confound this day!" He lifted his hat. + +"Amen," said I, as his lordship bowed, exceedingly sulky. But I did +not value his rage, being hot with joy to be so beprais'd by the first +captain (as I yet hold) on the royal side. Who now, not without a sly +triumph, flung the price of Billy's cider on the table and, folding up +his map, address'd me again-- + +"Master Marvel, the fight to-day will lie but little with the horse--or +so I hope. You will do well, if your wish be to serve us best, to leave +your mare behind. The troop which my Lord Mohun and I command together +is below. But Sir Bevill Grenville, who has seen and is interested in +you, has the first claim: and I would not deny you the delight to fight +your first battle under so good a master. His men are, with Sir John +Berkeley's troop, a little to the westward: and if you are ready I will +go some distance with you, and put you in the way to find him. My lord, +may we look for you presently?" + +The Lord Mohun nodded, surly enough: so, Billy's cider being now drunk +and Molly given over to an ostler, we set out down the hill together, +Billy shouldering a pipe and walking after with the groom that led Sir +Ralph's horse. Be sure the General's courtly manner of speech set my +blood tingling. I seem'd to grow a full two inches taller; and when, in +the vale, we parted, he directing me to the left, where through a gap +I could see Sir Bevill's troop forming at some five hundred paces' +distance, I felt a very desperate warrior indeed; and set off at a run, +with Billy behind me. + +'Twas an open space we had to cross, dotted with gorsebushes; and the +enemy's regiments, plain to see, drawn up in battalia on the slope +above, which here was gentler than to the south and west. But hardly had +we gone ten yards than I saw a puff of white smoke above, then another, +and then the summit ring'd with flame; and heard the noise of it roaring +in the hills around. At the first sound I pull'd up, and then began +running again at full speed: for I saw our division already in motion, +and advancing up the hill at a quick pace. + +The curve of the slope hid all but the nearest: but above them I saw +a steep earthwork, and thereon three or four brass pieces of ordnance +glittering whenever the smoke lifted. For here the artillery was plying +the briskest, pouring down volley on volley; and four regiments at least +stood mass'd behind, ready to fall on the Cornish-men; who, answering +with a small discharge of musketry, now ran forward more nimbly. + +To catch up with them, I must now turn my course obliquely up the hill, +where running was pretty toilsome. We were panting along when suddenly a +shower of sand and earth was dash'd in my face, spattering me all over. +Half-blinded, I look'd and saw a great round shot had ploughed a trench +in the ground at my feet, and lay there buried. + +At the same moment, Billy, who was running at my shoulder, plumps down +on his knees and begins to whine and moan most pitiably. + +"Art hurt, dear fellow?" asked I, turning. + +"Oh, Jack, Jack--I have no stomach for this! A cool, wet death at sea +I do not fear; only to have the great hot shot burning in a man's +belly--'tis terrifying. I _hate_ a swift death! Jack, I be a sinner--I +will confess: I lied to thee yesterday--never kiss'd the three maids +I spoke of--never kiss'd but one i' my life, an' her a tap-wench, +that slapp'd my face for 't, an' so don't properly count. I be a very +boastful man!" + +Now I myself had felt somewhat cold inside when the guns began roaring: +but this set me right in a trice. I whipp'd a pistol out of my sash and +put the cold ring to his ear: and he scrambled up; and was a very lion +all the rest of the day. + +But now we had again to change our course, for to my dismay I saw a +line of sharpshooters moving down among the gorsebushes, to take the +Cornishmen in flank. And 'twas lucky we had but a little way further +to go; for these skirmishers, thinking perhaps from my dress and our +running thus that we bore some message open'd fire on us: and tho' they +were bad marksmen, 'twas ugly to see their bullets pattering into the +turf, to right and left. + +We caught up the very last line of the ascending troop--lean, hungry +looking men, with wan faces, but shouting lustily. I think they were +about three hundred in all. "Come on, lad," called out a bearded fellow +with a bandage over one eye, making room for me at his side; "there's +work for plenty more!"--and a minute after, a shot took him in the ribs, +and he scream'd out "Oh, my God!" and flinging up his arms, leap'd a +foot in air and fell on his face. + +Pressing up, I noted that the first line was now at the foot of the +earthwork; and, in a minute, saw their steel caps and crimson sashes +swarming up the face of it, and their pikes shining. But now came a +shock, and the fellow in front was thrust back into my arms. I reeled +down a pace or two and then, finding foothold, stood pushing. And next, +the whole body came tumbling back on me, and down the hill we went +flying, with oaths and cries. Three of the rebel regiments had been +flung on us and by sheer weight bore us before them. At the same time +the sharpshooters pour'd in a volley: and I began to see how a man may +go through a battle, and be beat, without striking a blow. + +But in the midst of this scurry I heard the sound of cheering. 'Twas Sir +John Berkeley's troop (till now posted under cover of the hedges below) +that had come to our support; and the rebels, fearing to advance too +far, must have withdrawn again behind their earthwork, for after a while +the pressure eas'd a bit, and, to my amaze, the troop which but a minute +since was a mere huddled crowd, formed in some order afresh, and once +more began to climb. This time, I had a thick-set pikeman in front of +me, with a big wen at the back of his neck that seem'd to fix all my +attention. And up we went, I counting the beat of my heart that was +already going hard and short with the work; and then, amid the rattle +and thunder of their guns, we stopp'd again. + +I had taken no notice of it, but in the confusion of the first repulse +the greater part of our men had been thrust past me, so that now I found +myself no further back than the fourth rank, and at the very foot of the +earthwork, up the which our leaders were flung like a wave; and soon I +was scrambling after them, ankle deep in the sandy earth, the man with +the wen just ahead, grinding my instep with his heel and poking his pike +staff between my knees as he slipp'd. + +And just at the moment when the top of our wave was cleaving a small +breach above us, he fell on the flat of his pike, with his nose buried +in the gravel and his hands clutching. Looking up I saw a tall rebel +straddling above him with musket clubb'd to beat his brains out: whom +with an effort I caught by the boot; and, the bank slipping at that +instant, down we all slid in a heap, a jumble of arms and legs, to the +very bottom. + +Before I had the sand well out of my eyes, my comrade was up and had his +pike loose; and in a twinkling, the rebel was spitted through the middle +and writhing. 'Twas sickening: but before I could pull out my pistol +and end his pain (as I was minded), back came our front rank a-top of +us again, and down they were driven like sheep, my companion catching up +the dead man's musket and ammunition bag, and I followed down the slope +with three stout rebels at my heels. "What will be the end of _this?_" +thought I. + +The end was, that after forty yards or so, finding the foremost close +upon me, I turn'd about and let fly with my pistol at him. He spun round +twice and dropp'd: which I was wondering at (the pistol being but a poor +weapon for aim) when I was caught by the arm and pull'd behind a clump +of bushes handy by. 'Twas the man with the wen, and by his smoking +musket I knew that 'twas he had fired the shot that killed my pursuer. + +"Good turn for good turn," says he: "quick with thy other pistol!" + +The other two had stopped doubtfully, but at the next discharge of my +pistol they turn'd tail and went up the hill again, and we were left +alone. And suddenly I grew aware that my head was aching fit to split, +and lay down on the turf, very sick and ill. + +My comrade took no notice of this, but, going for the dead man's musket, +kept loading and firing, pausing now and then for his artillery to cool, +and whistling a tune that runs in my head to this day. And all the time +I heard shouts and cries and the noise of musketry all around, which +made me judge that the attack was going on in many places at once. +When I came to myself 'twas to hear a bugle below calling again to the +charge, and once more came the two troops ascending. At their head was a +slight built man, bare-headed, with the sun (that was by this, high +over the hill) smiting on his brown curls, and the wind blowing them. +He carried a naked sword in his hand, and waved his men forward as +cheerfully as though 'twere a dance and he leading out his partner. + +"Who is that yonder?" asked I, sitting up and pointing. + +"Bless thy innocent heart!" said my comrade, "dostn't thee know? Tis Sir +Bevill." + + * * * * * + +'Twould be tedious to tell the whole of this long fight, which, +beginning soon after sunrise, ended not till four in the afternoon, or +thereabouts: and indeed of the whole my recollection is but of continual +advance and repulse on that same slope. And herein may be seen the +wisdom of our generals, in attacking while the main body of the enemy's +horse was away: for had the Earl of Stamford possessed a sufficient +force of dragoons to let slip on us at the first discomfiture, there is +little doubt he might have ended the battle there and then. As it was, +the horse stood out of the fray, theirs upon the summit of the hill, +ours (under Col. John Digby) on the other slope, to protect the town and +act as reserve. + +The foot, in four parties, was disposed about the hill on all sides; to +the west--as we know--under Sir John Berkeley and Sir Bevill Grenville; +to the south under General Hopton and Lord Mohun; to the east under the +Colonels Tom Basset and William Godolphin; while the steep side to the +north was stormed by Sir Nicholas Slanning and Colonel Godolphin, with +their companies. And as we had but eight small pieces of cannon and were +in numbers less than one to two, all we had to do was to march up the +hill in face of their fire, catch a knock on the head, may be, grin, and +come on again. + +But at three o'clock, we, having been for the sixth time beaten back, +were panting under cover of a hedge, and Sir John Berkeley, near by, was +writing on a drumhead some message to the camp, when there comes a young +man on horseback, his face smear'd with dirt and dust, and rides up to +him and Sir Bevill. 'Twas (I have since learn'd) to say that the powder +was all spent but a barrel or two: but this only the captains knew at +the time. + +"Very well, then," cries Sir Bevill, leaping up gaily. "Come along, +boys--we must do it this time." And, the troop forming, once more the +trumpets sounded the charge, and up we went. Away along the slope we +heard the other trumpeters sounding in answer, and I believe 'twas a +_sursum corda!_ to all of us. + +Billy Pottery was ranged on my right, in the first rank, and next to me, +on the other side, a giant, near seven foot high, who said his name was +Anthony Payne and his business to act as body-servant to Sir Bevill. And +he it was that struck up a mighty curious song in the Cornish tongue, +which the rest took up with a will. Twas incredible how it put fire into +them all: and Sir Bevill toss'd his hat into the air, and after him like +schoolboys we pelted, straight for the masses ahead. + +For now over the rampart came a company of red musketeers, and two of +russet-clad pikemen, charging down on us. A moment, and we were crushed +back: another, and the chant rose again. We were grappling, hand to +hand, in the midst of their files. + +But, good lack! What use is swordsmanship in a charge like this? The +first red coat that encounter'd me I had spitted through the lung, +and, carried on by the rush, he twirled me round like a windmill. In an +instant I was pass'd; the giant stepping before me and clearing a space +about him, using his pike as if 'twere a flail. With a wrench I tugg'd +my sword out and followed. I saw Sir Bevill, a little to the left, +beaten to his knee, and carried toward me. Stretching out a hand I +pull'd him on his feet again, catching, as I did so, a crack on the +skull that would have ended me, had not Billy Pottery put up his pike +and broke the force of it. Next, I remember gripping another red coat +by the beard and thrusting at him with shortened blade. Then the giant +ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought to rally round it; and with +that I seem'd caught off my feet and swept forward:--and we were on the +crest. + +Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man's +breath off a pane. And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across +to where, on the north side, a white standard embroider'd with gold +griffins was mounting. + +"'Tis dear Nick Slanning!" he cried; "God be prais'd--the day is ours +for certain!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT. + + +The rest of this signal victory (in which 1,700 prisoners were taken, +besides the Major-General Chudleigh; and all the rebels' camp, cannon +and victuals) I leave historians to tell. For very soon after the rout +was assured (the plain below full of men screaming and running, and Col. +John Digby's dragoons after them, chasing, cutting, and killing), a wet +muzzle was thrust into my hand, and turning, I found Molly behind me, +with the groom to whom I had given her in the morning. The rogue had +counted on a crown for his readiness, and swore the mare was ready for +anything, he having mix'd half a pint of strong ale with her mash, not +half an hour before. + +So I determin'd to see the end of it, and paying the fellow, climb'd +into the saddle. On the summit the Cornish captains were now met, and +cordially embracing. 'Tis very sad in these latter times to call back +their shouts and boyish laughter, so soon to be quench'd on Lansdowne +slopes, or by Bristol graff. Yet, O favor'd ones!--to chase Victory, to +grasp her flutt'ring skirt, and so, with warm, panting cheeks, kissing +her, to fall, escaping evil days! + +How could they laugh? For me, the late passionate struggle left me +shaken with sobs; and for the starting tears I saw neither moors around, +nor sun, nor twinkling sea. Brushing them away, I was aware of Billy +Pottery striding at my stirrup, and munching at a biscuit he had found +in the rebels' camp. Said he, "In season, Jack, is in reason. There +be times to sing an' to dance, to marry and to give in marriage; an' +likewise times to become as wax: but now, lookin' about an' seein' +no haughty slaughterin' cannon but has a Cornishman seated 'pon the +touch-hole of the same, says I in my thoughtsome way, 'Forbear!'" + +Presently he pulls up before a rebel trooper, that was writhing on the +slope with a shatter'd thigh, yet raised himself on his fists to gaze on +us with wide, painful eyes. + +"Good sirs," gasp'd out the rebel, "can you tell me--where be Nat +Shipward?" + +"Now how should I know?" I answer'd. + +"'A had nutty-brown curls, an' wore a red jacket--Oh, as straight a +young man as ever pitched hay! 'a sarved in General Chudleigh's troop--a +very singular straight young man." + +"Death has taken a many such," said I, and thought on the man I had run +through in our last charge. + +The fellow groaned. "'A was my son," he said: and though Billy pull'd +out a biscuit (his pockets bulged with them) and laid it beside him, he +turn'd from it, and sank back on the turf again. + +We left him, and now, the descent being gentler, broke into a run, in +hopes to catch up with Col. John Digby's dragoons, that already were far +across the next vale. The slope around us was piled with dead and dying, +whereof four out of every five were rebels; and cruelly they cursed us +as we passed them by. Night was coming on apace; and here already we +were in deep shadow, but could see the yellow sun on the hills beyond. +We crossed a stream at the foot, and were climbing again. Behind us the +cheering yet continued, though fainter: and fainter grew the cries and +shouting in front. Soon we turn'd into a lane over a steep hedge, under +the which two or three stout rebels were cowering. As we came tumbling +almost atop of them, they ran yelling: and we let them go in peace. + +The lane gradually led us to westward, out of the main line of the rout, +and past a hamlet where every door was shut and all silent. And at last +a slice of the sea fronted us, between two steeply shelving hills. On +the crest of the road, before it plunged down toward the coast, was +a wagon lying against the hedge, with the horses gone: and beside it, +stretch'd across the road, an old woman. Stopping, we found her dead, +with a sword-thrust through the left breast; and inside the wagon a +young man lying, with his jaw bound up,--dead also. And how this sad +spectacle happened here, so far from the battlefield, was more than we +could guess. + +I was moving away, when Billy, that was kneeling in the road, chanced +to cast his eyes up toward the sea, and dropping the dead woman's hand +scrambled on his feet and stood looking, with a puzzled face. + +Following his gaze, I saw a small sloop moving under shorten'd canvas, +about two miles from the land. She made a pleasant sight, with the last +rays of sunlight flaming on her sails: but for Billy's perturbation I +could not account, so turn'd an enquiring glance to him. + +"Suthin' i' the wind out yonder," was his answer: "What's a sloop doing +on that ratch so close in by the point? Be dang'd! but there she goes +again;"--as the little vessel swung off a point or two further from the +breeze, that was breathing softly up Channel. "Time to sup, lad, for the +both of us," he broke off shortly. + +Indeed, I was faint with hunger by this time, yet had no stomach to +eat thus close to the dead. So turning into a gate on our left hand, we +cross'd two or three fields, and sat down to sup off Billy's biscuits, +the mare standing quietly beside us, and cropping the short grass. + +The field where we now found ourselves ran out along the top of a small +promontory, and ended, without fence of any sort, at the cliff's edge. +As I sat looking southward, I could only observe the sloop by turning my +head: but Billy, who squatted over against me, hardly took his eyes off +her, and between this and his meal was too busy to speak a word. For +me, I had enough to do thinking over the late fight: and being near worn +out, had half a mind to spend the night there on the hard turf: for, +though the sun was now down and the landscape grey, yet the air was +exceeding warm: and albeit, as I have said, there breath'd a light +breeze now and then, 'twas hardly cool enough to dry the sweat off me. +So I stretch'd myself out, and found it very pleasant to lie still; +nor, when Billy stood up and sauntered off toward the far end of the +headland, did I stir more than to turn my head and lazily watch him. + +He was gone half an hour at the least, and the sky by this time was so +dark, that I had lost sight of him, when, rising on my elbow to look +around, I noted a curious red glow at a point where the turf broke off, +not three hundred yards behind me, and a thin smoke curling up in it, as +it seem'd, from the very face of the cliff below. In a minute or so the +smoke ceased almost; but the shine against the sky continued steady, +tho' not very strong. "Billy has lit a fire," I guessed, and was +preparing to go and look, when I spied a black form crawling toward me, +and presently saw 'twas Billy himself. + +Coming close, he halted, put a finger to his lip and beckoned: then +began to lead the way back as he had come. + +Thought I, "these are queer doings:" but left Molly to browse, and crept +after him on hands and knees. He turn'd his head once to make sure I was +following, and then scrambled on quicker, but softly, toward the point +where the red glow was shining. + +Once more he pull'd up--as I judg'd, about twelve paces' distance from +the edge--and after considering for a second, began to move again; only +now he worked a little to the right. And soon I saw the intention of +this: for just here the cliff's lip was cleft by a fissure--very like +that in Scawfell which we were used to call the _Lord's Rake_, only +narrower--that ran back into the field and shelved out gently at the +top, so that a man might easily scramble some way down it, tho' how far +I could not then tell. And 'twas from this fissure that the glow came. + +Along the right lip of this Billy led me, skirting it by a couple of +yards, and wriggling on his belly like a blind worm. Crawling closer now +(for 'twas hard to see him against the black turf), I stopp'd beside him +and strove to quiet the violence of my breathing. Then, after a minute's +pause, together we pulled ourselves to the edge, and peer'd over. + +The descent of the gully was broken, some eight feet below us, by a +small ledge, sloping outward about six feet (as I guess), and screen'd +by branches of the wild tamarisk. At the back, in an angle of the +solid rock, was now set a pan pierced with holes, and full of burning +charcoal: and over this a man in the rebels' uniform was stooping. + +He had a small paper parcel in his left hand, and was blowing at the +charcoal with all his might. Holding my breath, I heard him clearly, +but could see nothing of his face, for his back was toward us, all sable +against the glow. The charcoal fumes as they rose chok'd me so, that +I was very near a fit of coughing, when Billy laid one hand on my +shoulder, and with the other pointed out to seaward. + +Looking that way, I saw a small light shining on the sea, pretty close +in. 'Twas a lantern hung out from the sloop, as I concluded on the +instant: and now I began to have an inkling of what was toward. + +But looking down again at the man with the charcoal pan I saw a black +head of hair lifted, and then a pair of red puff'd cheeks, and a pimpled +nose with a scar across the bridge of it--all shining in the glare of +the pan. + +"Powers of Heaven!" I gasped; "'tis that bloody villain Luke Settle!" + +And springing to my feet, I took a jump over the edge and came sprawling +on top of him. The scoundrel was stooping with his nose close to the +pan, and had not time to turn before I lit with a thud on his shoulders, +flattening him on the ledge and nearly sending his face on top of the +live coal. 'Twas so sudden that, before he could so much as think, my +fingers were about his windpipe, and the both of us struggling flat on +the brink of the precipice. For he had a bull's strength, and heaved and +kicked, so that I fully looked, next moment, to be flying over the edge +into the sea: nor could I loose my grip to get out a pistol, but only +held on and worked my fingers in, and thought how he had strangled the +mastiff that night on the bowling-green, and vowed to serve him the same +if only strength held out. + +But now, just as he had almost twisted his neck free, I heard a stone or +two break away above us, and down came Billy Pottery flying atop of us, +and pinned us to the ledge. + +'Twas short work now. Within a minute, Captain Luke Settle was turned +on his back, his eyes fairly starting with Billy's clutch on his throat, +his mouth wide open and gasping; till I slipp'd the nozzle of my pistol +between his teeth; and with that he had no more chance, but gave in, and +like a lamb submitted to have his arms truss'd behind him with Billy's +leathern belt, and his legs with his own. + +"Now," said I, standing over him, and putting the pistol against his +temple, "you and I, Master Turncoat Settle, have some accounts that +'twould be well to square. So first tell me, what do you here, and where +is Mistress Delia Killigrew?" + +I think that till this moment the bully had no idea his assailants were +more than a chance couple of Cornish troopers. But now seeing the glow +of the burning charcoal on my face, he ripped out a horrid blasphemous +curse, and straightway fell to speaking calmly. + +"Good sirs, the game is yours, with care. S'lid! but you hold a pretty +hand--if only you know how to play it." + +"'Tis you shall help me, Captain: but let us be clear about the stakes. +For you, 'tis life or death: for me, 'tis to regain Mistress Delia, +failing which I shoot you here through the head, and topple you into the +sea. You are the Knave of trumps, sir, and I play that card: as matters +now stand, only the Queen can save you." + +"Right: but where be King and Ace?" + +"The King is the Cornish army, yonder: the Ace is my pistol here, which +I hold." + +"And that's a very pretty comprehension of the game, sir: I play the +Queen." + +"Where is she?" + +For answer, he pointed seaward, where the sloop's lantern lay like a +floating star on the black waters. + +"What!" cried I. "Mistress Delia in that sloop! And who is with her, +pray?" + +"Why, Black Dick, to begin with--and Reuben Gedges--and Jeremy Toy." + +"All the Knaves left in the pack--God help her!" I muttered, as I look'd +out toward the light, and my heart beat heavily. "God help her!" I said +again, and turning, spied a grin on the Captain's face. + +"Under Providence," answered he, "your unworthy servant may suffice. But +what is my reward to be?" + +"Your neck," said I, "if I can save it when you are led before the +Cornish captains." + +"That's fair enough: so listen. These few months the lady has been shut +in Bristol keep, whither, by the advice of our employer, we conveyed her +back safe and sound. This same employer--" + +"A dirty rogue, whom you may as well call by his name--Hannibal +Tingcomb." + +"Right, young sir: a very dirty rogue, and a niggardly:--I hate a mean +rascal. Well, fearing her second escape from that prison, and being hand +in glove with the Parliament men, he gets her on board a sloop bound for +the Virginias, just at the time when he knows the Earl of Stamford is to +march and crush the Cornishmen. For escort she has the three comrades of +mine that I named: and the captain of the sloop (a fellow that asks no +questions) has orders to cruise along the coast hereabouts till he gets +news of the battle." + +"Which you were just now about to give him," cried I, suddenly +enlighten'd. + +"Right again. 'Twas a pretty scheme: for--d'ye see?--if all went +well with the Earl of Stamford, the King's law would be wiped out in +Cornwall, and Master Tingcomb (with his claims and meritorious services) +might snap his thumb thereat. So, in that case, Mistress Delia was to be +brought ashore here and taken to him, to serve as he fancied. But if the +day should go against us--as it has--she was to sail to the Virginias +with the sloop, and there be sold as a slave. Or worse might happen; but +I swear that is the worst was ever told me." + +"God knows 'tis vile enough," said I, scarce able to refrain from +blowing his brains out. "So you were to follow the Earl's army, and work +the signals. Which are they?" For a quick resolve had come into my head, +and I was casting about to put it into execution. + +"A green light if we won: if not, a red light, to warn the sloop away." + +I picked up the packet that had dropp'd from his hand when first I +sprang upon him. It was burst abroad, and a brown powder trickling from +it about the ledge. + +"This was the red light--to be sprinkled on the burning charcoal, I +suppose?" + +The fellow nodded. At the same moment, Billy (who as yet had not spoke +a word, and of course, understood nothing) thrust into my hand another +packet that he had found stuck in a corner against the rock. + +"Now tell me--in case the rebels won, where was the landing to be made?" + +"In the cove below here--where the road leads down." + +"Aye, the road where the wagon stood." + +Captain Luke Settle blink'd his eyes at this: but nodded after a moment. + +"And how many would escort her?" + +He caught my drift and laughed softly--- + +"Be damn'd, sir, but I begin to love you, for you play the game very +proper and soundly. Reuben, Jeremy, and Black Dick alone are in the +plot; so why should more escort her? For the skipper and crew have their +own business to look after." + +"Then, Master Settle, tho' it be a sore trial to you, those three Knaves +you must give me, or I play my Ace," and I pressed the ring of my pistol +sharply against his ear as a reminder. + +"With all my heart, young sir, you shall have them," says he briskly. + +"And this is 'honor among thieves,'" thought I: "You would sell your +comrade as you sold your King:" but only said, "If you cry out, or speak +one word to warn them--" + +Before I could get my sentence out, Billy Pottery broke in with a voice +like a trumpet-- + +"As folks go, Jack, I be a humorous man. But sittin' here, an' ponderin' +this way an' that, I says, in my deaf an' afflicted style, 'Why not +shoot the ugly rogue, if mirth, indeed, be your object?' For to wait +till an uglier comes to this untravel'd spot is superfluity." + +How to explain matters to Billy was more than I could tell: but in a +moment he himself supplied the means. For the rocks here were of some +kind of slate, very hard, but scaly: and finding two pieces, a large and +a small, he handed them to me, bawling that I was to write therewith. So +giving him my pistol, I made shift to scribble a few words. Seeing his +eyes twinkle as he read, I stood up. + +The charcoal by this time was a glowing mass of red: and threw so clear +a light on us that I feared the crew on board the sloop might see +our forms and suspect their misadventure. But the lantern still hung +steadily: so signing to Billy to drag our prisoner behind a tamarisk +bush, I open'd the second packet, and poured some of the powder into my +hand. + +It was composed of tiny crystals, yellow and flaky: and holding it, +for a moment I was possessed with a horrid fear that this might be the +signal to warn the sloop away. I flung a look at the Captain: who read +my thoughts on the instant. + +"Never fear, young sir: am no such hero as to sell my life for that +tag-rag. Only make haste, for your deaf friend has a cursed ugly way of +fumbling his pistol." + +So taking heart, I tore the packet wide, and shook out the powder on the +coals. + +Instantly there came a dense choking vapor, and a vivid green flare that +turned the rocks, the sky, and our faces to a ghastly brilliance. For +two minutes, at least, this unnatural light lasted. As soon as it died +away and the fumes clear'd, I look'd seaward. + +The lantern on the sloop was moving in answer to the signal. Three times +it was lifted and lower'd: and then in the stillness I heard voices +calling, and soon after the regular splash of oars. + +There was no time to be lost. Pulling the Captain to his feet, we +scrambled up the gully, and out at the top, and across the fields as +fast as our legs would take us. Molly came to my call and trotted beside +me--the Captain following some paces behind, and Billy last, to keep a +safe watch on his movements. + +At the gate, however, where we turned into the road, I tethered the +mare, lest the sound of her hoofs should betray us: and down toward +the sea we pelted, till almost at the foot of the hill I pull'd up and +listen'd, the others following my example. + +We could hear the sound of oars plain above the wash of waves on the +beach. I look'd about me. On either side the road was now bank'd by tall +hills, with clusters of bracken and furze bushes lying darkly on +their slopes. Behind one of these clusters I station'd Billy with the +Captain's long sword, and a pistol that I by signs forbade him to fire +unless in extremity. Then, retiring some forty paces up the road, I hid +the Captain and myself on the other side. + +Hardly were we thus disposed, before I heard the sound of a boat +grounding on the beach below, and the murmur of voices; and then the +noise of feet trampling the shingle. Upon which I ordered my prisoner to +give a hail, which he did readily. + +"Ahoy, Dick! Ahoy, Reuben Gedges!" + +In a moment or two came the answer-- + +"Ahoy, there, Captain--here we be!" + +"Fetch along the cargo!" shouted Captain Settle, on my prompting. + +"Where be you?" + +"Up the road, here--waiting!" + +"One minute, then--wait one minute, Captain!" + +I heard the boat push'd off, some _Good-nights_ call'd, and then (with +tender anguish) the voice of my Delia lifted in entreaty. As I guess'd, +she was beseeching the sailors to take her back to the sloop, nor leave +her to these villains. There follow'd an oath or two growl'd out, a +short scrimmage, and at last, above the splash of the retreating boat, +came the tramp of heavy feet on the road below. + +So fired was I at the sound of Delia's voice, that 'twas with much ado +I kept quiet behind the bush. Yet I had wit enough left to look to the +priming of my pistol, and also to bid the Captain shout again. As he +did so, a light shone out down the road, and round the corner came a man +bearing a lantern. + +"Can't be quicker, Captain," he called: "the jade struggles so that Dick +and Jeremy ha' their hands full." + +Sure enough, after him there came in view two stooping forms that bore +my dear maid between them--one by the feet, the other by the shoulders. +I ground my teeth to see it, for she writhed sorely. On they came, +however, until not more than ten paces off; and then that traitor, Luke +Settle, rose up behind our bush. + +"Set her here, boys," said he, "and tie her pretty ankles." + +"Well met, Captain!" said the fellow with the lantern--Reuben +Gedges--stepping forward; "Give us your hand!" + +He was holding out his own, when I sprang up, set the pistol close +to his chest, and fired. His scream mingled with the roar of it, and +dropping the lantern, he threw up his hands and tumbled in a heap. At +the same moment, out went the light, and the other rascals, dropping +Delia, turn'd to run, crying, "Sold--sold!" + +But behind them came now a shout from Billy, and a crashing blow that +almost severed Black Dick's arm at the shoulder: and at the same instant +I was on Master Toy's collar, and had him down in the dust. Kneeling on +his chest, with my sword point at his throat, I had leisure to glance at +Billy, who in the dark, seem'd to be sitting on the head of his disabled +victim. And then I felt a touch on my shoulder, and a dear face peer'd +into mine. + +"Is it Jack--my sweet Jack?" + +"To be sure," said I: "and if you but reach out your hand, I will kiss +it, for all that I'm busy with this rogue." + +"Nay, Jack, I'll kiss thee on the cheek--so! Dear lad, I am so +frighten'd, and yet could laugh for joy!" + +But now I caught the sound of galloping on the road above, and shouts, +and then more galloping; and down came a troop of horsemen that were +like to have ridden over us, had I not shouted lustily. + +"Who, in the fiend's name is here?" shouted the foremost, pulling in his +horse with a scramble. + +"Honest men and rebels together," I answered; "but light the lantern +that you will find handy by, and you shall know one from t'other." + +By the time 'twas found and lit, there was a dozen of Col. John Digby's +dragoons about us: and before the two villains were bound, comes a half +dozen more, leading in Captain Settle, that had taken to his heels at +the first blow and climb'd the hill, all tied as he was about the hands, +and was caught in his endeavor to clamber on Molly's back. So he and +Black Dick and Jeremy Toy were strapp'd up: but Reuben Gedges we left +on the road for a corpse. Yet he did not die (though shot through the +lung), but recovered--heaven knows how: and I myself had the pleasure to +see him hanged at Tyburn, in the second year of his late Majesty's most +blessed Restoration, for stopping the Bishop of Salisbury's coach, in +Maidenhead Thicket, and robbing the Bishop himself, with much added +contumely. + +But as we were ready to start, and I was holding Delia steady on Molly's +back, up comes Billy and bawls in my ear--- + +"There's a second horse, if wanted, that I spied tether'd under a hedge +younder"--and he pointed to the field where we had first found Captain +Settle--"in color a sad black, an' harness'd like as if he came from a +cart." + +I look'd at the Captain, who in the light of the lantern blink'd again. +"Thou bloody villain!" muttered I, for now I read the tragedy of the +wagon beside the road, and knew how Master Settle had provided a horse +for his own escape. + +But hereupon the word was given, and we started up the hill, I walking +by Delia's stirrup and listening to her talk as if we had never been +parted--yet with a tenderer joy, having by loss of it learn'd to +appraise my happiness aright. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE. + + +We came, a little before midnight, to Sir Bevill's famous great house +of Stow, near Kilkhampton: that to-night was brightly lit and full of +captains and troopers feasting, as well they needed to, after the great +victory. And here, though loth to do so, I left Delia to the care of +Lady Grace Grenville, Sir Bevill's fond beautiful wife, and of all +gentlewomen I have ever seen the pink and paragon, as well for her loyal +heart as the graces of her mind: who, before the half of our tale was +out, kissed Delia on both cheeks, and led her away. "To you too, sir, +I would counsel bed," said she, "after you have eaten and drunk, and +especially given God thanks for this day's work." + +Sir Bevill I did not see, but striding down into the hall, picked my +way among the drinking and drunken; the servants hurrying with dishes of +roast and baked and great tankards of beer; the swords and pikes flung +down under the forms and settles, and sticking out to trip a man up; and +at length found a groom who led me to a loft over one of the barns: and +here, above a mattress of hay, I slept the first time for many months +between fresh linen that smell'd of lavender, and in thinking how +pleasant 'twas, dropped sound asleep. + +Sure there is no better, sweeter couch than this of linen spread over +hay. Early in the morning, I woke with wits clear as water, and not an +ache or ounce of weariness in my bones: and after washing at the pump +below, went in search of breakfast and Sir Bevill. The one I found, +ready laid, in the hall; the other seated in his writing-room, studying +in a map; and with apology for my haste, handed him Master Tingcomb's +confession and told my story. + +When 'twas over, Sir Bevill sat pondering, and after a while said, very +frankly---- + +"As a magistrate I can give this warrant; and 'twould be a pleasure, for +well, as a boy, do I remember Deakin Killigrew. Young sir----" he +rose up, and taking a turn across the room, came and laid a hand on my +shoulder, "I have seen his daughter. Is it too late to warn you against +loving her?" + +"Why yes," I answer'd blushing: "I think it is." + +"She seems both sweet and quaint. God forbid I should say a word against +one that has so taken me! But in these times a man should stand alone: +to make a friend is to run the chance of a soft heart: to marry a wife +makes the chance sure----" + +He broke off, and went on again with a change of tone---- + +"For many reasons I would blithely issue this warrant. But how am I to +spare men to carry it out? At any moment we may be assail'd." + +"If that be your concern, sir," answer'd I, "give me the warrant. I have +a good friend here, a seafaring man, whose vessel lies at this moment +in Looe Haven, with a crew on board that will lay Master Tingcomb by the +heels in a trice. Within three days we'll have him clapp'd in Launceston +Jail, and there at the next Assize you shall sit on the Grand Jury and +hear his case, by which time, I hope, the King's law shall run on easier +wheels in Cornwall. The prisoners we have already I leave you to deal +withal: only, against my will, I must claim some mercy for that rogue, +Settle." + +To this Sir Bevill consented; and, to be short, the three knaves were +next morning pack'd off to Launceston: but in time, no evidence being +brought against them, regained their freedom, which they used to come +to the gallows, each in his own way. Their doings no longer concern this +history, and so I gladly leave them. + +To return, then, to my proper tale, 'twas not ten minutes before I +had the warrant in my pocket. And by eleven o'clock (word having been +carried to Delia, and our plans laid before Billy Pottery, who on the +spot engaged himself to help us) our horses were brought round to the +gate, and my mistress appear'd, all ready for the journey. For tho' +assured that the work needed not her presence, and that she had best +wait at Stow till Master Tingcomb was smok'd out of his nest, she would +have none of it, but was set on riding with me to see justice done on +this fellow, of whose villainy I had told her much the night before. And +glad I was of her choice, as I saw her standing on the entrance steps, +fresh as a rose, and in a fit habit once more: for Lady Grace had lent +not only her own bay horse, but also a riding dress and hat of grey +velvet to equip her: and stood in the porch to wish us _Godspeed!_ while +Sir Bevill help'd Delia to the saddle. + +So, with Billy tramping behind us, away we rode up the combe, where +Kilkhampton tower stood against the sky; and turning to wave hands at +the top, found our host and hostess still by the gate, watching us, with +hands rais'd to shield their eyes from the sun. + +The whole petty tale of this day's ride I shall not dwell upon. Indeed, +I scarcely noted the miles as they pass'd. For all the way we were +chattering, Delia telling me how Captain Settle and his gang had hurried +her (tho' without indignity) across Dartmoor to Ashburton, thence to +Lynton in North Devon, and so along the coast of Somerset to Bristol; +how they there produced a paper, at sight of which Sir Nathaniel +Fiennes, the new Governor, kept her under lock and key. And thus she +remained four months, at the end of which time they convey'd her on +board a sloop, call'd the _Fortitude_, and bound for the Virginias, +with the result that has been told. To all of which I listened greedily, +stealing from time to time a look at her shape, that on horseback was +graceful as a willow, and into her eyes that, under the flapping grey +brim, were gay and fancy-free as ever. + +"And did you," asked I, "never at heart chide me for leaving you so!" + +"Why no. I never took thee for a conjurer, Jack." + +"But, at least, you thought of me," I urged. + +"Oh, dear--oh, dear!" She pull'd rein and look'd at me: "I remember now +that last night I kiss'd thee. Forget it, Jack: last night, so glad was +I to be sav'd, I could have kiss'd a cobbler. Indeed, Jack," she went +on seriously, "I would that some maid had got hold of thee, in all these +months, to cure thy silly notions!" + +At Launceston, Billy Pottery took leave of us: and now went, due south, +toward Looe, with a light purse and lighter heart, undertaking that +his ship should lie off Gleys, with her crew ready for action, within +eight-and-forty hours. Delia and I rode faster now toward the southwest: +and having by this time recover'd my temper, I was recounting my flight +along this very road, when I heard a sound that brought my heart into my +mouth. + +'Twas the blast of a bugle, and came from behind the hill in front +of us. And at the same moment I understood. It must be Sir George +Chudleigh's cavalry returning, on news of their comrades' defeat, and we +were riding straight toward them, as into a trap. + +Now what could have made me forgetful of this danger I cannot explain, +unless it be that our thorough victory over the rebels had given me the +notion that the country behind us was clear of foes. And Sir Bevill +must have had a notion we were going straight to Looe with Billy. At +any rate, there was no time to be lost: for my presence was a danger to +Delia as well. I cast a glance about me. There was no place to hide. + +"Quick!" I cried; "follow me, and ride for dear life!" + +And striking spur into Molly I turn'd sharp off the road and gallop'd +across the moor to the left, with Delia close after me. + +We had gone about two hundred yards only when I heard a shout, and +glancing over my right shoulder, saw a green banner waving on the crest +of the road, and gathered about it the vanguard of the troop--some score +of dragoons: and these, having caught sight of us, were pausing a moment +to watch. + +The shout presently was followed by another; to which I made no answer, +but held on my way, with the nose of Delia's horse now level with my +stirrup: for I guess'd that my dress had already betrayed us. And this +was the case; for at the next glance I saw five or six dragoons detach +themselves from the main body, and gallop in a direction at an acute +angle to ours. On they came, yelling to us to halt, and scattering over +the moor to intercept us. + +Not choosing, however, to be driven eastward, I kept a straight course +and trusted to our horses' fleetness to carry us by them, out of reach +of their shot. In the pause of their first surprise we had stolen two +hundred yards more. I counted and found eight men thus in pursuit of +us: and to my joy heard the bugle blown again, and saw the rest of the +troop, now gathering fast above, move steadily along the road without +intention to follow. Doubtless the news of the Cornish success made them +thus wary of their good order. + +[Illustration: two arrows] + +Still, eight men were enough to run from; and now the nearest let fly +with his piece--more to frighten us, belike, than with any other view, +for we were far out of range. But it grew clear that if we held on our +direction they must cut us off: as you may see by these two arrows, the +long thin one standing for our own course, the thicker and shorter for +that of the dragoons. + +Only now with good hope I saw a hill rising not half a mile in front, +and somewhat to the right of our course: and thought I "if we can gain +the hollow to the left of it, and put the hill between us, they must +ride over it or round--in either case losing much time." So, pointing +this out to Delia, who rode on my left (to leave my pistol arm free and +at the same time be screen'd by me from shot of the dragoons) I drove my +spurs deep and called to Molly to make her best pace. + +The enemy divin'd our purpose: and in a minute 'twas a desperate race +for the entrance to the hollow. But our horses were the faster, and we +the lighter riders; so that we won, with thirty yards to spare, from the +foremost:--not without damage, however; for finding himself baulked, +he sent a bullet at us which cut neatly through my off rein, so that my +bridle was henceforward useless and I could guide Molly with knee and +voice alone. Delia's bay had shied at the sound of it, and likely enough +saved my mistress' life by this; for the bullet must have pass'd within +a foot before her. + +Down the hollow we raced with three dragoons at our heels, the rest +going round the hill. But they did little good by so doing, for after +the hollow came a broad, dismal sheet of water (by name Dozmare Pool, +I have since heard) about a mile round and bank'd with black peat. +Galloping along the left shore of this, we cut them off by near half a +mile. But the three behind followed doggedly, though dropping back with +every stride. + +Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, which +we jump'd easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the further side, I +noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes brimful of mirth. + +"Say, Jack," she cried; "is not this better than love of women?" + +"In Heaven's name," I called out, "take care!" + +But 'twas too late. The green valley here melted into a treacherous bog, +in the which her bay was already plunging over his fetlocks, and every +moment sinking deeper. + +"Throw me the rein!" I shouted, and catching the bridle close by the +bit, lean'd over and tried to drag the horse forward. By this, Molly +also was over hoofs in liquid mud. For a minute and more we heav'd and +splashed: and all the while the dragoons, seeing our fix, were shouting +and drawing nearer and nearer. But just as a brace of bullets splashed +into the slough at our feet, we stagger'd to the harder slope, and were +gaining on them again. So for twenty minutes along the spurs of the +hills, we held on, the enemy falling back and hidden, every now and +again, in the hollows--but always following: at the end of which time, +Delia call'd from just behind me-- + +"Jack--here's a to-do: the bay is going lame!" + +There was no doubt of it. I suppose he must have wrung his off hind leg +in fighting through the quag. Any way, ten minutes more would see the +end of his gallop. But at this moment we had won to the top of a +stiff ascent: and now, looking down at our feet, I had the joyfullest +surprise. + +'Twas the moor of Temple spread below like a map, the low sun striking +on the ruin'd huts to the left of us, on the roof of Joan's cottage, on +the scar of the high road, and the sides of the tall tor above it. + +"In ten minutes," said I, "we may be safe." + +So down into the plain we hurried: and I thought for the first time of +the loyal girl waiting in the cottage yonder; of my former ride into +Temple; and (with angry shame) of the light heart with which I left it. +To what had the summoning drums and trumpets led me? Where was the new +life, then so carelessly prevented? But two days had gone, and here was +I running to Joan for help, as a child to his mother. + +Past the peat-ricks we struggled, the sheep-cotes, the straggling +fences--all so familiar; cross'd the stream and rode into the yard. + +"Jump down," I whisper'd: "we have time, and no more." Glancing back, I +saw a couple of dragoons already coming over the heights. They had spied +us. + +Dismounting I ran to the cottage door and flung it open. A stream of +light, flung back against the sun, blazed into my eyes. + +I rubbed them and halted for a moment stock-still. + +For Joan stood in front of me, dress'd in the very clothes I had worn +on the day we first met--buff-coat, breeches, heavy boots, and all. Her +back was toward me, and at the shoulder, where the coat had been cut +away from my wound, I saw the rents all darn'd and patch'd with pack +thread. In her hand was the mirror I had given her. + +At the sound of my step on the threshold she turn'd with a short cry--a +cry the like of which I have never heard, so full was it of choking joy. +The glass dropp'd to the floor and was shatter'd. In a second her +arms were about me, and so she hung on my neck, sobbing and laughing +together. + +"'Twas true--'twas true! Dear, dear Jack--dear Jack to come to me: hold +me tighter, tighter--for my very heart is bursting!" + +And behind me a shadow fell on the doorway: and there stood Delia +regarding us. + +"Good lad--all yesterday I swore to be strong and wait for years, if +need be. Fie on womankind, to be so weak! All day I sat an' sat, an' did +never a mite o' work--never set hand to a tool: an' by sunset I gave in +an' went, cursing mysel', over the moor to Warleggan, to Alsie Pascoe, +the wise woman--an' she taught me a charm--an' bless her, bless her, +Jack, for't hath brought thee!" + +"Joan," said I, hot with shame, taking her arms gently from my neck: +"listen: I come because I am chased. Once more the dragooners are after +me--not five minutes away. You must lend me a horse, and at once." + +"Nay," said a voice in the doorway, "the horse, if lent, is for _me!_" + +Joan turn'd, and the two women stood looking at each other;--the one +with dark wonder, the other with cold disdainfulness--and I between them +scarce lifting my eyes. Each was beautiful after her kind, as day and +night: and though their looks cross'd for a full minute like drawn +blades, neither had the mastery. Joan was the first to speak. + +"Jack, is thy mare in the yard?" + +I nodded. + +"Give me thy pistols and thy cloak." She stepp'd to the window hole at +the end of the kitchen, and look'd out. "Plenty o' time," she said; and +pointed to the ladder leading to the loft above--"Climb up there, the +both, and pull the ladder after. Is't _thou_, they want--or _she?_" +pointing to Delia. + +"Me chiefly they would catch, no doubt--being a man," I answer'd. + +"Aye--bein' a man: the world's full o' folly. Then Jack do thou look +after _her_, an' I'll look after _thee_. If the rebels leave thee in +peace, make for the Jews' Kitchen and there abide me." + +She flung my cloak about her, took my pistols and went out at the door. +As she did so, the sun sank and a dull shadow swept over the moor. +"Joan!" I cried, for now I guess'd her purpose and was following to +hinder her: but she had caught Molly's bridle and was already astride of +her. "Get back!" she call'd softly; and then, "I make a better lad +than wench, Jack,"--leap'd the mare through a gap in the wall, and in a +moment was breasting the hill and galloping for the high road. + +In less than a minute, as it seem'd, I heard a pounding of hoofs, and +had barely time to follow Delia up the ladder and pull it after me, when +two of the dragoons rode skurrying by the house, and pass'd on yelling. +Their cries were hardly faint in the distance before there came another +three. + +"'A's a lost man, now, for sure," said one: "Be dang'd if 'a's not took +the road back to Lan'son!" + +"How 'bout the gal?" ask'd another voice. "Here's her horse i' the +yard." + +"Drat the gal! Sam, go thou an' tackle her: reckon thou'rt warriors enow +for one 'ooman." + +The two hasten'd on: and presently I heard the one they call'd "Sam" +dismounting in the yard. Now there was a window hole in the loft, +facing, not on the yard, but toward the country behind; and running +to it I saw that no more were following--the other three having, as I +suppose, early given up the chase. Softly pulling out a loose stone or +two, I widen'd this hole till I could thrust the ladder out of it. To my +joy it just reach'd the ground. I bade Delia squeeze herself through and +climb down. + +But before she was halfway down I heard a wild screech in the kitchen +below, and the voice of Sam shrieking--- + +"Help--help! Lord ha' mercy 'pon me--'tis a black cat--'tis a witch! The +gal's no gal, but a witch!" + +Laughing softly, I was descending the ladder when the fellow came round +the corner screaming--with Jan Tergagle clawing at his back and spitting +murderously. Delia had just time to slip aside, before he ran into +the ladder and brought me flying on top of him. And there he lay and +bellow'd till I tied him, and gagg'd his noise with a big stone in his +mouth and his own scarf tied round it. + +"Come!" I whisper'd: for Joan and her pursuers were out of sight. +Catching up her long skirt, Delia follow'd me, and up the tor we panted +together, nor rested till we were safe in the Jews' Kitchen. + +"What think you of this for a hiding place?" ask'd I, with a laugh. + +But Delia did not laugh. Instead, she faced me with blazing eyes, +check'd herself and answer'd, cold as ice--- + +"Sir, you have done me a many favors. How I have trusted you in return +it were best for you to remember, and for me to forget." + + * * * * * + +The dark drew on; the western star grew distinct and hung flashing over +against our hiding; and still we sat there, hour after hour, silent, +angry, waiting for Joan's return, Delia at the entrance of the den, +chin on hand, scanning the heavens and never once turning toward me; I +further inside, with my arms cross'd, raging against myself and all the +world, yet with a sick'ning dread that Joan would never come back. + +As the time lagg'd by, this terror grew and grew. But, as I think, about +ten o'clock, I heard steps coming over the turf. I ran out. 'Twas Joan +herself and leading Molly by the bridle. She walk'd as if tir'd, and +leaving the mare at the entrance, follow'd me into the cave. Glancing +round, I noted that Delia had slipp'd away. + +"Am glad she's gone," said Joan shortly: "How many rebels pass'd this +way, Jack?" + +"Five, counting one that lies gagg'd and bound, down at the cottage." + +"That leaves four:"--she stretch'd herself on the ground with a +sigh--"four that'll never trouble thee more, lad." + +"Why? how--" + +"Listen, lad: sit down an' let me rest my head 'pon thy knee. Oh, Jack, +I did it bravely! Eight good miles an' more I took the mare--by the +Four--hol'd Cross, an' across the moor past Tober an' Catshole, an' over +Brown Willy, an' round Roughtor to the nor'-west: an' there lies the +bravest quag--oh, a black, bottomless hole!--an' into it I led them; an' +there they lie, every horse, an' every mother's son, till Judgment Day." + +"Dead?" + +"Aye--an' the last twain wi' a bullet apiece in their skulls. Oh, rare! +Dear heart--hold my head--so, atween thy hands. 'Put on his cast off +duds,' said Alsie, 'an' stand afore the glass, sayin' "Come, true man!" +nine-an'-ninety time.' I was mortal 'feard o' losin' count; but afore I +got to fifty, I heard thy step an'--hold me closer, Jack." + +"But Joan, are these men dead, say you?" + +"Surely, yes. Why, lad, what be four rebels, up or down, to make this +coil over? Hast never axed after _me!"_ + +"Joan--you are not hurt?" + +In the darkness I sought her eyes, and, peering into them, drew back. + +"Joan!" + +"Hush, lad--bend down thy head, and let me whisper. I went too near--an' +one, that was over his knees, let fly wi' his musket--an' Jack, I have +but a minute or two. Hush lad, hush--there's no call! Wert never the +man could ha' tam'd me--art the weaker, in a way: forgie the word, for I +lov'd thee so, boy Jack!" + +Her arms were drawing down my face to her: her eyes dull with pain. + +"Feel, Jack--there--over my right breast. I plugg'd the wound wi' a peat +turf. Pull it out, for 'tis bleeding inwards, and hurts cruelly--pull it +out!" + +As I hesitated, she thrust her own hand in and drew it forth, leaving +the hot blood to gush. + +"An' now, Jack, tighter--hold me tighter. Kiss me--oh, what brave times! +Tighter, lad, an' call wi' me--'Church an' King!' Call, lad--'Church +an'--'" + +The warm arms loosen'd: the head sank back upon my lap. + +I look'd up. There was a shadow across the entrance, blotting out the +star of night. 'Twas Delia, leaning there and listening. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE. + + +The day-spring came at last, and in the sick light of it I went down to +the cottage for spade and pickaxe. In the tumult of my senses I hardly +noted that our prisoner, the dragoon, had contrived to slip his bonds +and steal off in the night. + +And then Delia, seeing me return with the sad tools on my shoulder, +spoke for the first time: + +"First, if there be a well near, fetch me two buckets of water, and +leave us for an hour." + +Her voice was weary and chill: so that I dared not thank her, but did +the errand in silence. Then, but a dozen paces from the spot where +Joan's father lay, I dug a grave and strew'd it with bracken, and +heather, and gorse petals, that in the morning air smell'd rarely. And +soon after my task was done, Delia call'd me. + +In her man's dress Joan lay, her arms cross'd, her black tresses +braided, and her face gentler than ever 'twas in life. Over her wounded +breast was a bunch of some tiny pink flower, that grew about the tor. + +So I lifted her softly as once in this same place she had lifted me, +and bore her down the slope to the grave: and there I buried her, while +Delia knelt and pray'd, and Molly browsed, lifting now and then her head +to look. + +When all was done, we turn'd away, dry-eyed, and walked together to the +cottage. The bay horse was feeding on the moor below; and finding him +still too lame to carry Delia, I shifted the saddles, and mending the +broken rein, set her on Molly. The cottage door stood open, but we did +not enter; only look'd in, and seeing Jan Tergagle curl'd beside the +cold hearth, left him so. + +Mile after mile we pass'd in silence, Delia riding, and I pacing beside +her with the bay. At last, tortur'd past bearing, I spoke-- + +"Delia, have you nothing to say?" + +For a while she seem'd to consider: then, with her eyes fix'd on the +hills ahead, answered-- + +"Much, if I could speak: but all this has changed me somehow--'tis, +perhaps, that I have grown a woman, having been a girl--and need to get +used to it, and think." + +She spoke not angrily, as I look'd for; but with a painful slowness that +was less hopeful. + +"But," said I, "over and over you have shown that I am nought to you. +Surely--" + +"Surely I am jealous? 'Tis possible--yes, Jack, I am but a woman, and so +'tis certain." + +"Why, to be jealous, you must love me!" + +She look'd at me straight, and answered very deliberate-- + +"Now that is what I am far from sure of." + +"But, dear Delia, when your anger has cool'd--" + +"My anger was brief: I am disappointed, rather. With her last breath, +almost, Joan said you were weaker than she: she lov'd you better than I, +and read you clearer. You _are_ weak. Jack"--she drew in Molly, and let +her hand fall on my shoulder very kindly--"we have been comrades for +many a long mile, and I hope are honest good friends; wherefore I loathe +to say a harsh or ungrateful-seeming word. But you could not understand +that brave girl, and you cannot understand me: for as yet you do not +even know yourself. The knowledge comes slowly to a man, I think; to a +woman at one rush. But when it comes, I believe you may be strong. Now +leave me to think, for my head is all of a tangle." + +Our pace was so slow (by reason of the lame horse), that a great part of +the afternoon was spent before we came in sight of the House of Gleys. +And truly the yellow sunshine bad flung some warmth about the naked +walls and turrets, so that Delia's home-coming seem'd not altogether +cheerless. But what gave us more happiness was to spy, on the blue water +beyond, the bright canvas of the _Godsend_, and to hear the cries and +stir of Billy Pottery's mariners as they haul'd down the sails. + +And Billy himself was on the lookout with his spyglass. For hardly +were we come to the beach when our signal--the waving of a white +kerchief--was answered by another on board; and within half an hour a +boat puts off, wherein, as she drew nearer, I counted eight fellows. + +They were (besides Billy), Matt. Soames, the master, Gabriel Hutchins, +Ned Masters, the black man Sampson, Ben Halliday, and two whose full +names I have forgot--but one was call'd Nicholas. And, after many warm +greetings, the boat was made fast, and we climbed up along the peninsula +together, in close order, like a little army. + +All this time there was no sign or sound about the House of Gleys to +show that anyone mark'd us or noted our movements. The gate was closed, +the windows stood shutter'd, as on my former visit: even the chimneys +were smokeless. Such effect had this desolation on our spirits, that +drawing near, we fell to speaking in whispers, and said Ned Masters-- + +"Now a man would think us come to bury somebody!" + +"He might make a worse guess," I answer'd. + +Marching up to the gate, I rang a loud peal on the bell; and to my +astonishment, before the echoes had time to die away, the grating was +push'd back, and the key turn'd in the lock. + +"Step ye in--step ye in, good folks! A sorry day,--a day of sobs an' +tears an' afflicted blowings of the nose--when the grasshopper is +a burden an' the mourners go about seeking whom they may devour the +funeral meats. Y' are welcome, gentlemen." + +'Twas the voice of my one-eyed friend, as he undid the bolts; and now +he stood in the gateway with a prodigious black sash across his canary +livery, so long that the ends of it swept the flagstones. + +"Is Master Tingcomb within?" I helped Delia to dismount, and gave our +two horses to a stable boy that stood shuffling some paces off. + +"Alas!" the old man heav'd a deep sigh, and with that began to hobble +across the yard. We troop'd after, wondering. At the house door he +turn'd--- + +"Sirs, there is cold roasted capons, an' a ham, an' radishes in +choice profusion for such as be not troubled wi' the wind: an' cordial +wines--alack the day!" + +He squeez'd a frosty tear from his one eye, and led us to a large bare +hall, hung round with portraits; where was a table spread with a plenty +of victuals, and horn-handled knives and forks laid beside plates of +pewter; and at the table a man in black, eating. He had straight hair +and a sallow face; and look'd up as we enter'd, but, groaning, in a +moment fell to again. + +"Eat, sirs," the old servitor exhorted us: "alas! that man may take +nothing out o' the world!" + +I know not who of us was most taken aback. But noting Delia's sad +wondering face, as her eyes wander'd round the neglected room and rested +on the tatter'd portraits, I lost patience. + +"Our business is with Master Hannibal Tingcomb," said I sharply. + +The straight-hair'd man look'd up again, his mouth full of ham. + +"Hush!"--he held his fork up, and shook his head sorrowfully: and I +wonder'd where I had Been him before. "Hast thou an angel's wings?" he +ask'd. + +"Why, no, sir; but the devil's own boots--as you shall find if I be not +answer'd." + +"Young man--young man," broke in the one-eyed butler: "our minister is a +good minister, an' speaks roundabout as such: but the short is, that my +master is dead, an' in his coffin." + +"The mortal part," corrected the minister, cutting another slice. + +"Aye, the immortal is a-trippin' it i' the New Jeroosalem: but the +mortal was very lamentably took wi' a fit, three days back--the same +day, young man, as thou earnest wi' thy bloody threats." + +"A fit?" + +"Aye, sir, an' verily--such a fit as thou thysel' witness'd. 'Twas the +third attack--an' he cried, 'Oh!' he did, an' 'Ah!'--just like that. +'Oh!' an' then 'Ah!' Such were his last dyin' speech. 'Dear Master,' +says I, 'there's no call to die so hard:' but might so well ha' +whistled, for he was dead as nails. A beautiful corpse, sirs, dang my +buttons!" + +"Show him to us." + +"Willingly, young man." He led the way to the very room where Master +Tingcomb and I had held our interview. As before, six candles were +burning there: but the table was push'd into a corner, and now their +light fell on a long black coffin, resting on trestles in the centre of +the room. The coffin was clos'd, and studded with silver nails; on +the lid was a silver plate bearing these words written--"_Hannibal +Tingcomb_, MDCXLIII.," with a text of Scripture below. + +"Why have you nail'd him down?" I asked. + +"Now where be thy bowels, young man, to talk so unfeelin'? An' where +be thy experience, not to know the ways o' thy blessed dead in summer +time?" + +"When do you bury him?" + +"To-morrow forenoon. The spot is two mile from here." He blinked at me, +and hesitated for a minute. "Is it your purpose, sirs, to attend?" + +"Be sure of that," I said grimly. "So have beds ready to-night for all +our company." + +"All thy--! Dear sir, consider: where are beds to be found? Sure, thy +mariners can pass the night aboard their own ship?" + +"So then," thought I, "you have been on the lookout;" but Delia replied +for me--- + +"I am Delia Killigrew, and mistress of this house. You will prepare the +beds as you are told." Whereupon what does that decrepit old sinner but +drop upon his knees? + +"Mistress Delia! O goodly feast for this one poor eye! Oh, that Master +Tingcomb had seen this day!" + +I declare the tears were running down his nose; but Delia march'd out, +cutting short his hypocrisy. + +In the passage she whisper'd-- + +"Villainy, Jack!" + +"Hush!" I answered, "and listen: _Master Tingcomb is no more in that +coffin than I._" + +"Then where is he?" + +"That is just what we are to discover." As I said this a light broke on +me. "By the Lord," I cried, "'tis the very same!" + +Delia open'd her eyes wide. + +"Wait," I said: "I begin to touch ground." + +We returned to the great hall. The straight-hair'd man was still eating, +and opposite sat Billy, that had not budg'd, but now beckoning to me, +very mysterious, whisper'd in a voice that made the plates rattle-- + +"That's--a damned--rogue!" + +'Twas discomposing, but the truth. In fact, I had just solv'd a puzzle. +This holy-speaking minister was no other than the groom I had seen at +Bodmin Fair holding Master Tingcomb's horses. + +By this, the sun was down, and Delia soon made an excuse to withdraw to +her own room. Nor was it long before the rest followed her example. I +found our chambers prepared, near together, in a wing of the house at +some distance from the hall. Delia's was next to mine, as I made sure by +knocking at her door: and on the other side of me slept Billy with two +of his crew. My own bed was in a great room sparely furnish'd; and the +linen indifferent white. There was a plenty of clean straw, tho', on the +floor, had I intended to sleep--which I did not. + +Instead, having blown out my light, I sat on the bed's edge, listening +to the big clock over the hall as it chim'd the quarters, and waiting +till the fellows below should be at their ease. That Master Tingcomb +rested under the coffin lid, I did not believe, in spite of the +terrifying fit that I could vouch for. But this, if driven to it, we +could discover at the grave. The main business was to catch him; and +to this end I meant to patrol the buildings, and especially watch the +entrance, on the likely chance of his creeping back to the house (if not +already inside), to confer with his fellow-rascals. + +As eleven o'clock sounded, therefore, I tapp'd on Billy's wall; and +finding that Matt. Soames was keeping watch (as we had agreed upon), +slipp'd off my boots. Our rooms were on the first floor, over a straw +yard; and the distance to the ground an easy drop for a man. But wishing +to be silent as possible, I knotted two blankets together, and strapping +the end round the window mullion, swung myself down by one hand, holding +my boots in the other. + +I dropp'd very lightly, and look'd about. There was a faint moon up and +glimmering on the straw; but under the house was deep shadow, and along +this I crept. The straw yard led into the court before the stables, and +so into the main court. All this way I heard no sound, nor spied so much +as a speck of light in any window. The house door was clos'd, and the +bar fastened on the great gate across the yard. I turn'd the corner to +explore the third side of the house. + +Here was a group of outbuildings jutting out, and between them and the +high outer wall a narrow alley. 'Twas with difficulty I groped my way +here, for the passage was dark as pitch, and rendered the straiter by a +line of ragged laurels planted under the house; so that at every other +step I would stumble, and run my head into a bush. + +I had done this for the eighth time, and was cursing under my breath, +when on a sudden I heard a stealthy footfall coming down the alley +behind me. + +"Master Tingcomb, for a crown!" thought I, and crouch'd to one side +under a bush. The footsteps drew nearer. A dark form parted the laurels: +another moment, and I had it by the throat. + +"Uugh--ugh--grr! For the Lord's sake, sir,--" + +I loos'd my hold: 'twas Matt. Soames. "Your pardon," whisper'd I; "but +why have you left your post?" + +"Black Sampson is watchin', so I took the freedom--ugh! my poor +windpipe!--to--" + +He broke off to catch me by the sleeve and pull me down behind the bush. +About twelve paces ahead I heard a door softly open'd and saw a shaft of +light flung across the path between the glist'ning laurels. As the ray +touch'd the outer wall, I mark'd a small postern gate there, standing +open. + +Cowering lower, we waited while a man might count fifty. Then came +footsteps crunching the gravel, and a couple of men cross'd the path, +bearing a large chest between them. In the light I saw the handle of a +spade sticking out from it: and by his gait I knew the second man to be +my one-ey'd friend. + +"Woe's my old bones!" he was muttering: "here's a fardel for a man o' my +years!" + +"Hold thy breath for the next load!" growl'd the other voice, which as +surely was the good minister's. + +They pass'd out of the small gate, and by the sounds that follow'd, +we guess'd they were hoisting their burden into a cart. Presently they +re-cross'd the path, and entered the house, shutting the door after +them. + +"Now for it!" said I in Matt's ear. Gliding forward, I peep'd out at the +postern gate; but drew back like a shot. + +I had almost run my head into a great black hearse, that stood there +with the door open, back'd against the gate, the heavy plumes nodding +above it in the night wind. + +Who held the horses I had not time to see: but whispering to Matt, to +give me a leg up, clamber'd inside. "Quick!" I pull'd him after, and +crept forward. I wonder'd the man did not hear us: but by good luck the +horses were restive, and by his maudlin talk to them I knew he was three +parts drunk--on the funeral wines, doubtless. + +I crept along, and found the tool chest stow'd against the further end: +so, pulling it gently out, we got behind it. Tho' Matt was the littlest +man of my acquaintance, 'twas the work of the world to stow ourselves in +such compass as to be hidden. By coiling up our limbs we managed it; but +only just before I caught the glimmer of a light and heard the pair of +rascals returning. + +They came very slow, grumbling all the way; and of course, I knew they +carried the coffin. + +"All right, Sim?" ask'd the minister. + +"Aye," piped a squeaky voice by the horses heads ('twas the shuffling +stable boy), "aye, but look sharp! Lord, what sounds I've heerd! The +devil's i' the hearse, for sure!" + +"Now, Simmy," the one-ey'd gaffer expostulated, "thou dostn' think the +smoky King is a-took in, same as they poor folks upstairs? Tee-hee! +Lord, what a trick!--to come for Master Tingcomb, an' find--aw +dear!--aw, bless my old ribs, what a thing is humor!" + +"Shut up!" grunted the minister. The end of the coffin was tilted up +into the hearse. "Push, old varmint!" + +"Aye-push, push! Where be my young, active sinews? What a shrivell'd +garment is all my comeliness! 'The devil inside,' says Simmy--haw, haw!" + +"Burn the thing! 'twon't go in for the tool box. Push, thou cackling old +worms!" + +"Now so I be, but my natural strength is abated. 'Yo-heave ho!' like the +salted seafardingers upstairs. Push, push!" + +"Oh, my inwards!" groans poor Matt, under his breath, into whom the +chest was squeezing sorely. + +"Right at last!" says the minister. "Now, Simmy, nay lad, hand the reins +an' jump up. There's room, an' you'll be wanted." + +The door was clapp'd-to, the three rogues climb'd upon the seat in +front: and we started. + +I hope I may never be call'd to pass such another half hour as that +which follow'd. As soon as the wheels left turf for the hard road, 'twas +jolt, jolt all the way; and this lying mainly down hill, the chest and +coffin came grinding into our ribs, and pressing till we could scarce +breathe. And I dared not climb out over them, for fear the fellows +should hear us; their chuckling voices coming quite plain to us from the +other side of the panel. I held out, and comforted Matt, as well as I +could, feeling sure we should find Master Tingcomb at our journey's end. +Soon we climb'd a hill, which eas'd us a little; but shortly after were +bumping down again, and suffering worse than ever. + +"Save us," moan'd Matt, "where will this end?" + +The words were scarce out, when we turn'd sharp to the right, with +a jolt that shook our teeth together, roll'd for a little while over +smooth grass, and drew up. + +I heard the fellows climbing down, and got my pistols out. + +"Simmy," growl'd the minister, "where's the lantern?" + +There was a minute or so of silence, and then the snapping of flint and +steel, and the sound of puffing. + +"Lit, Simmy?" + +"Aye, here 'tis." + +"Fetch it along then." + +The handle of the door was turn'd, and a light flash'd into the hearse. + +"Here, hold the lantern steady! Come hither, old Squeaks, and help wi' +the end." + +"Surely I will. Well was I call'd Young Look-alive when a gay, fleeting +boy. Simmy, my son, thou'rt sadly drunken. O youth, youth! Thou +winebibber, hold the light steady, or I'll tell thy mammy!" + +"Oh, sir, I do mortally dread the devil an' all his works!" + +"Now, if ever! The devil,' says he--an' Master Tingcomb still livin', +an' in his own house awaitin' us!" + +Be sure, his words were as good as a slap in the face to me. For I had +counted the hearse to lead me straight to Master Tingcomb himself. "In +his own house," too! A fright seiz'd me for Delia. But first I must deal +with these scoundrels, who already were dragging out the coffin. + +"Steady there!" calls the minister. The coffin was more than halfway +outside. I levell'd my pistol over the edge of the tool chest, and +fetch'd a yell fit to wake a ghost--at the same time letting fly +straight for the minister. + +In the flash of the discharge, I saw him, half-turn'd, his eyes +starting, and mouth agape. He clapp'd his hand to his shoulder. On top +of his wild shriek, broke out a chorus of screams and oaths, in the +middle of which the coffin tilted up and went over with a crash. +"Satan--Satan!" bawled Simmy, and, dropping the lantern, took to his +heels for dear life. At the same moment the horses took fright; and +before I could scramble out, we were tearing madly away over the turf +and into the darkness. I had made a sad mess of it. + +It must have been a full minute before the hedge turn'd them, and gave +me time to drop out at the back and run to their heads. Matt. Soames +was after me, quick as thought, and very soon we mastered them, and +gathering up the reins from between their legs, led them back. As luck +would have it, the lantern had not been quench'd by the fall, but lay +flaring, and so guided us. Also a curious bright radiance seem'd growing +on the sky, for which I could not account. The three knaves were nowhere +to be seen, but I heard their footsteps scampering in the distance, and +Simmy still yelling "Satan!" I knew my bullet had hit the minister; but +he had got away, and I never set eyes on any of the three again. + +Leaving Matt to mind the horses, I caught up the lantern, and look'd +about me. As well as could be seen, we were in a narrow meadow between +two hills, whereof the black slopes rose high above us. Some paces to +the right, my ear caught the noise of a stream running. + +I turn'd the lantern on the coffin, which lay face downward, and with a +gasp took in the game those precious rogues had been playing. For, with +the fall of it, the boards (being but thin) were burst clean asunder; +and on both sides had tumbled out silver cups, silver saltcellars, +silver plates and dishes, that in the lantern's rays sparkled prettily +on the turf. The coffin, in short, was stuff'd with Delia's silverware. + +I had pick'd up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the +inscription, when Matt. Soames call'd to me, and pointed over the hill +in front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing. + +"Sure," said he, "'tis a fire out yonder!" + +"God help us, Matt.--'tis the House of Gleys!" + +It took but two minutes to toss the silver back into the hearse. I +clapp'd-to the door, and snatching the reins, sprang upon the driver's +seat. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE. + + +We had some ado to find the gate: but no sooner were through, and upon +the high road, than I lash'd the horses up the hill at a gallop. To +guide us between the dark hedges we had only our lantern and the glare +ahead. The dishes and cups clash'd and rattled as the hearse bump'd in +the ruts, swaying wildly: a dozen times Matt, was near being pitch'd +clean out of his seat. With my legs planted firm, I flogg'd away like a +madman; and like mad creatures the horses tore upward. + +On the summit a glance show'd us all--the wild crimson'd sky--the sea +running with lines of fire--and against it the inky headland whereon +the House of Gleys flar'd like a beacon. Already from one wing--_our_ +wing--a leaping column of flame whirl'd up through the roof, and was +swept seaward in smoke and sparks. I mark'd the coast line, the cliff +tracks, the masts and hull of the _Godsend_ standing out, clear as day; +and nearer, the yellow light flickering over the fields of young corn. +We saw all this, and then were plunging down hill, with the blaze +full ahead of us. The heavy reek of it was flung in our nostrils as we +gallop'd. + +At the bottom we caught up a group of men running. 'Twas a boatload come +from the ship to help. As our horses swept past them, one or two came to +a terrified halt; but presently were running hard again after us. + +The great gate stood open. I drove straight into the bright-lit yard, +shouting "Delia!--where is Delia?" + +"Here!" call'd a voice; and from a group that stood under the glare of +the window came my dear mistress running. + +"All safe, Jack! But what--" She drew back from our strange equipage. + +"All in good time. First tell me--how came the fire?" + +"Why, foul work, as it seems. All I know is I was sleeping, and awoke to +hear the black seaman hammering on my door. Jumping up, I found the room +full of smoke, and escap'd. The rooms beneath, they say, were stuff'd +with straw, and the yard outside heap'd also with straw, and blazing. +Ben Halliday found two oil jars lying there--" + +"Are the horses out?" + +"Oh, Jack--I do not know! Shame on me to forget them!" + +I ran toward the stable. Already the roof was ablaze, and the straw +yard, beyond, a very furnace. Rushing in, I found the two horses +cowering in their stalls, bath'd in sweat, and squealing. But 'twas all +fright. So I fetch'd Molly's saddle, and spoke to her, and set it across +her back: and the sweet thing was quiet in a moment, turning her head to +rub my sleeve gently with her muzzle: and followed me out like a lamb. +The bay gave more trouble; but I sooth'd him in the same manner, and +patting his neck, led him, too, into safety. + +By this, all hope to save the house was over: for the well in the court +yielded but twenty buckets before it ran dry, and after that no water +was to be had. Of the wing where the fire burst out only the walls +stood, and a few oaken rafters, that one by one came tumbling and +crashing. The flames had spread along the roof, and were now licking the +ceiling of the hall and spouting around the clock tower. In the roar and +hubbub, Billy's men work'd like demons, dragging out chairs, chests, and +furniture of all kinds, which they strew'd in the yard, returning with +shouts for more. One was tearing down the portraits in the hall: another +was pulling out the great dresser from the kitchen: a third had found a +pile of tapestry and came staggering forth under the load of it. + +I had fasten'd the horses by the gate, and was ready to join in the +work, when a shout was rais'd--- + +"Billy!--Where's Billy Pottery? Has any seen the skipper?" + +"Sure," I call'd, "you don't say he was never alarm'd!" + +"Black Sampson was in his room--where's Black Sampson?" + +"Here I be!" cried a voice. "To be sure I woke the skipper before any o' +ye." + +"Then where's he hid? Did any see him come out?" + +"Now, that we have not!" answer'd one or two. + +I stood by the house door shouting these questions to the men inside, +when a hand was laid on my arm, and there in the shadow waited Billy +himself, with a mighty curious twinkle in his eye. He put a finger up +and signed that I should follow. + +We pass'd round the outbuildings where, three hours before, Matt. Soames +and I had hid together. I was minded to stop and pull on my boots, that +were hid here: but (and this was afterward the saving of me) on second +thoughts let them lie, and follow'd Billy, who now led me out by the +postern gate. + +Without speech we stepp'd across the turf, he a pace or two ahead. A +night breeze was blowing here, delicious after the heat of the fire. We +were walking quickly toward the east side of the headland, and soon +the blaze behind flung our shadows right to the cliff's edge, for which +Billy made straight, as if to fling himself over. + +But when, at the very verge, he pull'd up, I became enlighten'd. At +our feet was an iron bar driven into the soil, and to it a stout rope +knotted, that ran over a block and disappeared down the cliff. I knelt +and, pulling at it softly, look'd up. It came easy in the hand. + +Billy, with the glare in his face, nodded: and bending to my ear, for +once achiev'd a whisper. + +"Saw one stealing hither--an' follow'd. A man wi' a limp foot--went over +the side like a cat." + +I must have appeared to doubt this good fortune, for he added--- + +"'Be a truth speakin' man i' the main, Jack--'lay over 'pon my belly, +and spied a ledge--fifty feet down or less--'reckon there be a way +thence to the foot. Dear, now! what a rampin', tearin' sweat is this?" + +For, fast as I could tug, I was hauling up the rope. Near sixty feet +came up before I reach'd the end--a thick twisted knot. I rove a long +noose; pull'd it over my head and shoulders, and made Billy understand +he was to lower me. + +"Sit i' the noose, lad, an' hold round the knot. For sign to hoist +again, tug the rope hard. I can hold." + +He paid it out carefully while I stepp'd to the edge. With the noose +about my loins I thrust myself gently over, and in a trice hung swaying. + +On three sides the sky compass'd me--wild and red, save where to +eastward the dawn was paling: on the fourth the dark rocky face seem'd +gliding upward as Billy lower'd. Far below I heard the wash of the sea, +and could just spy the white spume of it glimmering. It stole some of +the heart out of me, and I took my eyes off it. + +Some feet below the top, the cliff fetch'd a slant inward, so that I +dangled a full three feet out from the face. As a boy I had adventured +something of this sort on the north sides of Gable and the Pillar, and +once (after a nest of eaglets) on the Mickledore cliffs: but then 'twas +daylight. Now, tho' I saw the ledge under me, about a third of the way +down, it look'd, in the darkness, to be so extremely narrow, that 'tis +probable I should have call'd out to Billy to draw me up but for the +certainty that he would never hear: so instead I held very tight and +wish'd it over. + +Down I sway'd (Billy letting out the rope very steady), and at last +swung myself inward to the ledge, gain'd a footing, and took a glance +round before slipping off the rope. + +I stood on a shelf of sandy rock that wound round the cliff some way to +my left, and then, as I thought, broke sharply away. 'Twas mainly about +a yard in width, but in places no more than two feet. In the growing +light I noted the face of the headland ribb'd with several of these +ledges, of varying length, but all hollow'd away underneath (as I +suppose by the sea in former ages), so that the cliff's summit overhung +the base by a great way: and peering over I saw the waves creeping right +beneath me. + +Now all this while I had not let Master Tingcomb out of my mind. So I +slipp'd off the rope and left it to dangle, while I crept forward to +explore, keeping well against the rock and planting my feet with great +caution. + +I believe I was twenty minutes taking as many steps, when at the point +where the ledge broke off I saw the ends of an iron ladder sticking up, +and close beside it a great hole in the rock, which till now the curve +of the cliff had hid. The ladder no doubt stood on a second shelf below. + +I was pausing to consider this, when a bright ray stream'd across +the sea toward me, and the red rim of the sun rose out of the waters, +outfacing the glow on the headland, and rending the film of smoke that +hung like a curtain about the horizon. 'Twas as if by alchemy that the +red ripples melted to gold; and I stood watching with a child's delight. + +I heard the sound of a footstep: and fac'd round. + +Before me, not six paces off, stood Hannibal Tingcomb. + +He was issuing from the hole with a sack on his shoulder, and sneaking +to descend the steps, when he threw a glance behind--and saw me! + +Neither spoke. With a face grey as ashes he turn'd very slowly, until in +the unnatural light we look'd straight into each other's eyes. His never +blink'd, but stared--stared horribly, while the veins swell'd black on +his forehead and his lips work'd, attempting speech. No words came--only +a long drawn sob, deep down in his throat. + +And then, letting slip the sack, he flung his arms up, ran a pace or two +toward me, and tumbled on his face in a fit. His left shoulder hung over +the verge; his legs slipp'd. In a trice he was hanging by his arms, his +old distorted face turn'd up, and a froth about his lips. I made a step +to save him: and then jump'd back, flattening myself against the rock. + +The ledge was breaking. + +I saw a seam gape at my feet. I saw it widen and spread to right and +left. I heard a ripping, rending noise--a rush of stones and earth: and, +clawing the air, with a wild screech, Master Tingcomb pitch'd backward, +head over heels, into space. + +Then follow'd silence: then a horrible splash as he struck the water, +far below: then again a slipping and trickling, as more of the ledge +broke away--at first a pebble or two sliding--a dribble of earth--next, +a crash and a cloud of dust. A last stone ran loose and dropp'd. Then +fell a silence so deep I could catch the roar of the flames on the hill +behind. + +Standing there, my arms thrown back and fingers spread against the rock, +I saw a wave run out, widen, and lose itself on the face of the sea. +Under my feet but eight inches of the cornice remain'd. My toes stuck +forward over the gulf. + +[Illustration: The ledge was breaking.] + +A score of startled gulls with their cries call'd me to myself. I open'd +my eyes, that had shut in sheer giddiness. Close on my left the ledge +was broke back to the very base, cutting me off by twelve feet from that +part where the ladder still rested. No man could jump it, standing. To +the right there was no gap: but in one place only was the footing over +ten inches wide, and at the end my rope hung over the sea, a good yard +away from the edge. + +I shut my eyes and shouted. + +There was no answer. In the dead stillness I could hear the rafters +falling in the House of Gleys, and the shouts of the men at work. The +_Godsend_ lay around the point, out of sight. And Billy, deaf as a +stone, sat no doubt by his rope, placidly waiting my signal. + +I scream'd again and again. The rock flung my voice seaward. Across the +summit vaulted above, there drifted a puff of brown smoke. No one heard. + +A while of weakness followed. My brain reel'd: my fingers dug into the +rock behind till they bled. I bent forward--forward over the heaving +mist through which the sea crawl'd like a snake. It beckon'd me down, +that crawling water.... + +I stiffened my knees and the faintness pass'd. I must not look down +again. It flashed on me that Delia had call'd me weak: and I hardened my +heart to fight it out. I would face round to the cliff and work toward +the rope. + +'Twas a hateful moment while I turned: for to do so I must let go with +one hand. And the rock thrust me outward. But at last I faced the cliff; +waited a moment while my knees shook; and moving a foot cautiously to +the left, began to work my way along, an inch at a time. + +Looking down to guide my feet, I saw the waves twinkling beneath my +heels. My palms press'd the rock. At every three inches I was fain +to rest my forehead against it and gasp. Minute after minute went +by--endless, intolerable, and still the rope seem'd as far away as ever. +A cold sweat ran off me: a nausea possessed me. Once, where the ledge +was widest, I sank on one knee, and hung for a while incapable of +movement. But a black horror drove me on: and after the first dizzy +stupor my wits were mercifully wide awake. Sure, 'twas God's miracle +preserv'd them to me, who looking at the sea and cliff and pitiless sun, +had almost denied Him and his miracles together. + +All the way I kept shouting: and so, for half an hour, inch by inch, +shuffled forward, until I stood under the rope. Then I had to turn +again. + +The rock, tho' still overarching, here press'd out less than before: so +that, working round on the ball of my foot, I managed pretty easily. But +how to get the rope? As I said, it hung a good yard beyond the ledge, +the noose dangling some two feet below it. With my finger tips against +the cliff, I lean'd out and clutch'd at it. I miss'd it by a foot. +"Shall I jump?" thought I, "or bide here till help comes?" + +'Twas a giddy, awful leap. But the black horror was at my heels now. In +a minute more 'twould have me; and then my fall was certain. I call'd +up Delia's face as she had taunted me. I bent my knees, and, leaving my +hold of the rock, sprang forward--out, over the sea. + +I saw it twinkle, fathoms below. My right hand touch'd--grasp'd the +rope: then my left, as I swung far out upon it. I slipp'd an inch--three +inches--then held, swaying wildly. My foot was in the noose. I heard a +shout above: and, as I dropp'd to a sitting posture, the rope began to +rise. + +"Quick! Oh, Billy, pull quick!" + +He could not hear; yet tugg'd like a Trojan. + +"Now, here's a time to keep a man sittin'!" he shouted, as he caught +my hand, and pull'd me full length on the turf. "Why, lad--hast seen a +ghost?" + +There was no answer. The black horror had overtaken me at last. + + * * * * * + +They carried me to a shed in the great court of Gleys, and set me on +straw: and there, till far into the afternoon, I lay betwixt swooning +and trembling, while Delia bath'd my head in water from the sea, for no +other was to be had. And about four in the afternoon the horror left me, +so that I sat up and told my story pretty steadily. + +"What of the house?" I ask'd, when the tale was done, and a company sent +to search the east cliff from the beach. + +"All perish'd!" said Delia, and then smiling, "I am houseless as ever, +Jack." + +"And have the same good friends." + +"That's true. But listen--for while you have lain here, Billy and I have +put our heads together. He is bound for Brest, he says, and has agreed +to take me and such poor chattels as are saved, to Brittany, where I +know my mother's kin will have a welcome for me, until these troubles +be pass'd. Already the half of my goods is aboard the _Godsend_, and a +letter writ to Sir Bevill, begging him to appoint an honest man as my +steward. What think you of the plan?" + +"It seems a good plan," I answer'd slowly: "the England that now is, is +no place for a woman. When do you sail?" + +"As soon as you are recovered, Jack." + +"Then that's now." I got on my feet, and drew on my boots (that Matt. +Soames had found in the laurel bushes and brought). My knees trembled a +bit, but nothing to matter. + +"Art looking downcast, Jack." + +Said I: "How else should I look, that am to lose thee in an hour or +more?" + +She made no reply to this, but turned away to give an order to the +sailors. + +The last of Delia's furniture was hardly aboard, when we heard great +shouts of joy, and saw the men returning that had gone to search the +cliff. They bore between them three large oak coffers: which being +broke, we came on an immense deal of old plate and jewels, besides +over L300 in coined money. There were two more left behind, they said, +besides several small bags of gold. The path up the cliff was hard to +climb, and would have been impossible, but for the iron ladder they +found ready fix'd for Master Tingcomb's descent. In the hole (that could +not be seen from the beach, the shelf hiding it) was tackle for lowering +the chest: and below a boat moor'd, and now left high and dry by the +tide. Doubtless, the arch-rascal had waited for his comrades to return, +whom Matt. Soames and I had scar'd out of all stomach to do so. His body +was nowhere found. + +The sea had wash'd it off: but the sack they recover'd, and found to +hold the choicest of Delia's heirlooms. Within an hour the remaining +coffers and the money bags were safe in the vessel's hold. + + * * * * * + +The sun was setting, as Delia and I stood on the beach, beside the boat +that was to take her from me. Aboard the _Godsend_ I could hear the +anchor lifting, and the men singing, as, holding Molly's bridle, I held +out my hand to the dear maid who with me had shar'd so many a peril. + +"Is there any more to come?" she ask'd. + +"No," said I, and God knows my heart was heavy: "nothing to come but +'Farewell!'" + +She laid her small hand in my big palm, and glancing up, said very +pretty and demur-- + +"_And shall I leave my best? Wilt not come, too, dear Jack?_" + +"Delia!" I stammer'd. "What is this? I thought you lov'd me not." + +"And so did I, Jack: and thinking so, I found I loved thee better than +ever. Fie on thee, now! May not a maid change her mind without being +forced to such unseemly, brazen words?" And she heav'd a mock sigh. + +But as I stood and held that little hand, I seem'd across the very mist +of happiness to read a sentence written, and spoke it, perforce and +slow, as with another man's mouth-- + +"Delia, you only have I lov'd, and will love! Blithe would I be to live +with you, and to serve you would blithely die. In sorrow, then, call for +me, or in trust abide me. But go with you now--I may not." + +She lifted her eyes, and looking full into mine, repeated slowly the +verse we had read at our first meeting-- + + "'In a wife's lap, as in a grave, + Man's airy notions mix with earth--' +--thou hast found it, sweetheart--thou has found the Splendid Spur!" + +She broke off, and clapp'd her hands together very merrily; and then, as +a tear started-- + +"But thou'lt come for me, ere long, Jack? Else I am sure to blame some +other woman. Stay--" + +She drew off her ring, and slipp'd it on my little finger. + +"There's my token! Now give me one to weep and be glad over." + +Having no trinkets, I gave my glove: and she kiss'd it twice, and put it +in her bosom. + +"I have no need of this ring," said I: "for look!" and I drew forth +the lock I had cut from her dear head, that morning among the alders by +Kennet side, and worn ever since over my heart. + +"Wilt marry no man till I come?" + +"Now, that's too hard a promise," said she, laughing, and shaking her +curls. + +"Too hard!" + +"Why, of course. Listen, sweetheart--a true woman will not change her +mind: but, oh! she dearly loves to be able to! So, bating this, here's +my hand upon it--now, fie, Jack! and before all these mariners!--well, +then if thou _must_--" + +* * * * * + +I watch'd her standing in the stern and waving, till she was under the +_Godsend's_ side: then turn'd, and mounting Molly, rode inland to the +wars. + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Splendid Spur, by Arthur T. 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Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Splendid Spur + +Author: Arthur T. Quiller Couch + +Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6437] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on December 14, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPLENDID SPUR *** + + + + +Produced by Karl Hagen, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +[Illustration: "I loved thee so, boy Jack."] + +THE SPLENDID SPUR + +BEING MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF MR. JOHN MARVEL, +A SERVANT OF HIS LATE MAJESTY KING CHARLES I., IN THE YEARS 1642-3: +WRITTEN BY HIMSELF: + +Edited in Modern English by + +Q +(ARTHUR T. QUILLER COUCH) + +1897 + + + + +TO + +EDWARD GWYNNE EARDLEY-WILMOT. + +_MY DEAR EDDIE, + +Whatever view a story-teller may take of his business, 'tis happy +when he can think, "This book of mine will please such and such a +friend," and may set that friend's name after the title page. For +even if to please (as some are beginning to hold) should be no part +of his aim, at least 'twill always be a reward: and (in unworthier +moods) next to a Writer I would choose to be a Lamplighter, as the +only other that gets so cordial a "God bless him!" in the long +winter evenings. + +To win such a welcome at such a time from a new friend or two would +be the happiest fortune for my tale. But to you I could wish it to +speak particularly, seeing that under the coat of_ JACK MARVEL +_beats the heart of your friend_ + +Q. + +_Torquay, August 22d_, 1889. + + + + + + INTRODUCTORY NOTE. + +"Q." + +A year or two ago it was observed that three writers were using the +curiously popular signature "Q." This was hardly less confusing than +that one writer should use three signatures (Grant Allen, Arbuthnot +Wilson, and Anon), but as none of the three was willing to try +another letter, they had to leave it to the public (whose decision +in such matters is final) to say who is Q to it. The public said, +Let him wear this proud letter who can win it, and for the present +at least it is in the possession of the author of "The Splendid +Spur" and "The Blue Pavilions." It would seem, too, as if it were +his "to keep," for "Q" is like the competition cups that are only +yours for a season, unless you manage to carry them three times in +succession. Mr. Quiller-Couch has been champion Q since 1890. + +The interesting question is not so much, What has he done to be the +only prominent Q of these years, as Is he to be the Q of all time? +If so, he will do better work than he has yet done, though several +of his latest sketches--and one in particular--are of very uncommon +merit. Mr. Quiller-Couch is so unlike Mr. Kipling that one +immediately wants to compare them. They are both young, and they +have both shown such promise that it will be almost sad if neither +can write a book to live--as, of course, neither has done as yet. Mr. +Kipling is the more audacious, which is probably a matter of +training. He was brought up in India, where one's beard grows much +quicker than at Oxford, and where you not only become a man (and a +cynic) in a hurry, but see and hear strange things (and print them) +such as the youth of Oxford miss, or, becoming acquainted with, +would not dare insert in the local magazine of the moment. So Mr. +Kipling's first work betokened a knowledge of the world that is by +no means to be found in "Dead Man's Rock," the first book published +by Mr. Quiller-Couch. On the other hand, it cannot truly be said +that Mr. Kipling's latest work is stronger than his first, while the +other writer's growth is the most remarkable thing about him. It is +precisely the same Mr. Kipling who is now in the magazines that was +writing some years ago in India (and a rare good Mr. Kipling too), +but the Mr. Quiller-Couch of to-day is the Quiller-Couch of "Dead +Man's Rock" grown out of recognition. To compare their styles is +really to compare the men. Mr. Kipling's is the more startling, the +stronger (as yet), and the more mannered. Mark Twain, it appears, +said he reads Mr. Kipling for his style, which is really the same +thing as saying you read him for his books, though the American +seems only to have meant that he eats the beef because he likes the +salt. It is a journalistic style, aiming too constantly at sharp +effects, always succeeding in getting them. Sometimes this is +contrived at the expense of grammar, as when (a common trick with +the author) he ends a story with such a paragraph as "Which is +manifestly unfair." Mr. Quiller-Couch has never sinned in this way, +but his first style was somewhat turgid, even melodramatic, and, +compared with Mr. Kipling's, lacked distinction. From the beginning +Mr. Kipling had the genius for using the right word twice in three +times (Mr. Stevenson only misses it about once in twelve), while Mr. +Quiller-Couch not only used the wrong word, but weighted it with +adjectives. The charge, however, cannot be brought against him +to-day, for having begun by writing like a Mr. Haggard not quite +sure of himself (if one can imagine such a Mr. Haggard), and changing +to an obvious imitation of Mr. Stevenson, he seems now to have made a +style for himself. It is clear and careful, but not as yet strong +winged. Its distinctive feature is that it is curiously musical. + +"Dead Man's Rock" is a capital sensational story to be read and at +once forgotten. It was followed by "The Astonishing History of Troy +Town," which was humorous, and proved that the author owed a debt to +Dickens. But it was not sufficiently humorous to be remarkable for +its humor, and it will go hand in hand with "Dead Man's Rock" to +oblivion. Until "The Splendid Spur" appeared Mr. Quiller-Couch had +done little to suggest that an artist had joined the ranks of the +story-tellers. It is not in anyway a great work, but it was among +the best dozen novels of its year, and as the production of a new +writer it was one of the most notable. About the same time was +published another historical romance of the second class (for to +nothing short of Sir Walter shall we give a first-class in this +department), "Micah Clarke," by Mr. Conan Doyle. It was as +inevitable that the two books should be compared as that he who +enjoyed the one should enjoy the other. In one respect "Micah +Clarke" is the better story. It contains one character, a soldier of +fortune, who is more memorable than any single figure in "The +Splendid Spur." This, however, is effected at a cost, for this man +is the book. It contains, indeed, two young fellows, one of them a +John Ridd, but no Diana Vernon would blow a kiss to either. Both +stories are weak in pathos, despite Joan, but there are a score of +humorous situations in "The Splendid Spur" that one could not forget +if he would--which he would not--as, for instance, where hero and +heroine are hidden in barrels in a ship, and hero cries through his +bunghole, "Wilt marry me, sweetheart?" to which heroine replies, +"Must get out of this cask first." Better still is the scene in +which Captain Billy expatiates, with a mop and a bucket, on the +merits of his crew. But the passages are for reading, not for +hearing about. Of the characters, this same Captain Billy is not the +worst, but perhaps the best is Joan, Mr. Quiller-Couch's first +successful picture of a girl. A capital eccentric figure is killed +(some good things are squandered in this book) just when we are +beginning to find him a genuine novelty. Anything that is ready to +leap into danger seems to be thought good enough for the hero of a +fighting romance, so that Jack Marvel will pass (though Delia, as is +right and proper, is worth two of him, despite her coming-on +disposition). The villain is a failure, and the plot poor. +Nevertheless there are some ingenious complications in it. Jack's +escape by means of the hangman's rope, which was to send him out of +the world in a few hours, is a fine rollicking bit of sensation. +Where Mr. Quiller-Couch and Mr. Conan Doyle both fail as compared +with the great master of romance is in the introduction of +historical figures and episodes. Scott would have been a great man +if he had written no novel but "The Abbott" (one of his second best), +and no part of "The Abbott" but the scene in which Mary signs away +her crown. Mr. Quiller-Couch almost entirely avoids such attempts, +and even Mr. Conan Doyle only dips into them timidly. There is, one +has been told, a theory that the romancist has no right to picture +history in this way. But he makes his rights when he does it as +Scott did it. + +Since "The Splendid Spur," Mr. Quiller-Couch has published nothing +in book form which can be considered an advance on his best novel, +but there have appeared by him a number of short Cornish sketches, +which are perhaps best considered as experiments. They are +perilously slight, and where they are successful one remembers them +as sweet dreams or like a bar of music. All aim at this effect, so +that many should not be taken at a time, and some (as was to be +expected with such delicate work) miss their mark. It might be said +that in several of these melodies Mr. Quiller-Couch has been writing +the same thing again and again, determined to succeed absolutely, if +not this time then the next, and if not the next time then the time +after. In one case he has succeeded absolutely. "The Small People," +is a prose "Song of the Shirt." To my mind this is a rare piece of +work, and the biggest thing for its size that has been done in +English fiction for some years. + +These sketches have been called experiments. They show (as his books +scarcely show) that Mr. Quiller-Couch can feel. They suggest that he +may be able to do for Cornwall what Mr. Hardy has done for Dorset-- +though the methods of the two writers are as unlike as their +counties. But that can only be if in filling his notebook with these +little comedies and tragedies Mr. Quiller-Couch is preparing for +more sustained efforts. + + "Our hope and heart is with thee + We will stand and mark." + +J. M. BARRIE. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + +I. THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE "CROWN" + +II. THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN + +III. I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL; AND BARELY ESCAPE + +IV. I TAKE THE ROAD + +V. MY ADVENTURE AT THE "THREE CUPS" + +VI. THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD + +VII. I FIND A COMRADE + +VIII. I LOSE THE KING'S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL + +IX I BREAK OUT OF PRISON + +X. CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE + +XI. I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE; AND AM WELL TREATED THERE + +XII. HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON +BRADDOCK DOWN + +XIII. I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR; AND MEET WITH MR. +HANNIBAL TINGCOMB + +XIV. I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS + +XV. I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS + +XVI. THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH + +XVII. I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT + +XVIII. JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE + +XIX THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE + +XX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY +COMRADE + + + +THE SPLENDID SPUR. + +CHAPTER I. + +THE BOWLING-GREEN OF THE "CROWN." + + +He that has jilted the Muse, forsaking her gentle pipe to follow +the drum and trumpet, shall fruitlessly besiege her again when the +time comes to sit at home and write down his adventures. 'Tis her +revenge, as I am extremely sensible: and methinks she is the harder +to me, upon reflection how near I came to being her lifelong servant, +as you are to hear. + +'Twas on November 29th, Ao. 1642--a clear, frosty day--that the King, +with the Prince of Wales (newly recovered of the measles), the +Princes Rupert and Maurice, and a great company of lords and +gentlemen, horse and foot, came marching back to us from Reading. I +was a scholar of Trinity College in Oxford at that time, and may +begin my history at three o'clock on the same afternoon, when going +(as my custom was) to Mr. Rob. Drury for my fencing lesson, I found +his lodgings empty. + +They stood at the corner of Ship Street, as you turn into the Corn +Market--a low wainscoted chamber, ill-lighted but commodious. "He is +off to see the show," thought I as I looked about me; and finding an +easy cushion in the window, sat down to await him. Where presently, +being tired out (for I had been carrying a halberd all day with the +scholars' troop in Magdalen College Grove), and in despite of the +open lattice, I fell sound asleep. + +It must have been an hour after that I awoke with a chill (as was +natural), and was stretching out a hand to pull the window close, +but suddenly sat down again and fell to watching instead. + +The window look'd down, at the height of ten feet or so, upon a +bowling-green at the back of the "Crown" Tavern (kept by John +Davenant, in the Corn Market), and across it to a rambling wing of +the same inn; the fourth side--that to my left--being but an old +wall, with a broad sycamore growing against it. 'Twas already +twilight; and in the dark'ning house, over the green, was now one +casement brightly lit, the curtains undrawn, and within a company of +noisy drinkers round a table. They were gaming, as was easily told +by their clicking of the dice and frequent oaths: and anon the +bellow of some tipsy chorus would come across. 'Twas one of these +catches, I dare say, that woke me: only just now my eyes were bent, +not toward the singers, but on the still lawn between us. + +The sycamore, I have hinted, was a broad tree, and must, in summer, +have borne a goodly load of leaves: but now, in November, these were +strewn thick over the green, and nothing left but stiff, naked +boughs. Beneath it lay a crack'd bowl or two on the rank turf, and +against the trunk a garden bench rested, I suppose for the +convenience of the players. On this a man was now seated. + +He was reading in a little book; and this first jogged my curiosity: +for 'twas unnatural a man should read print at this dim hour, or, if +he had a mind to try, should choose a cold bowling-green for his +purpose. Yet he seemed to study his volume very attentively, but +with a sharp look, now and then, toward the lighted window, as if +the revellers disturb'd him. His back was partly turn'd to me; and +what with this and the growing dusk, I could but make a guess at his +face: but a plenty of silver hair fell over his fur collar, and his +shoulders were bent a great deal. I judged him between fifty and +sixty. For the rest, he wore a dark, simple suit, very straitly cut, +with an ample furr'd cloak, and a hat rather tall, after the fashion +of the last reign. + +Now, why the man's behavior so engaged me, I don't know: but at the +end of half an hour I was still watching him. By this, 'twas near +dark, bitter cold, and his pretence to read mere fondness: yet he +persevered--though with longer glances at the casement above, where +the din at times was fit to wake the dead. + +And now one of the dicers upsets his chair with a curse, and gets on +his feet. Looking up, I saw his features for a moment--a slight, +pretty boy, scarce above eighteen, with fair curls and flush'd +cheeks like a girl's. It made me admire to see him in this ring of +purple, villainous faces. 'Twas evident he was a young gentleman of +quality, as well by his bearing as his handsome cloak of amber satin +barr'd with black. "I think the devil's in these dice!" I heard him +crying, and a pretty hubbub all about him: but presently the drawer +enters with more wine, and he sits down quietly to a fresh game. + +As soon as 'twas started, one of the crew, that had been playing but +was now dropp'd out, lounges up from his seat, and coming to the +casement pushes it open for fresh air. He was one that till now had +sat in full view--a tall bully, with a gross pimpled nose; and led +the catches in a bull's voice. The rest of the players paid no heed +to his rising; and very soon his shoulders hid them, as he lean'd +out, drawing in the cold breath. + +During the late racket I had forgot for a while my friend under the +sycamore, but now, looking that way, to my astonishment I saw him +risen from his bench and stealing across to the house opposite. I +say "stealing," for he kept all the way to the darker shadow of the +wall, and besides had a curious trailing motion with his left foot +as though the ankle of it had been wrung or badly hurt. + +As soon as he was come beneath the window he stopped and called +softly-- + +"Hist!" + +The bully gave a start and look'd down. I could tell by this motion +he did not look to find anyone in the bowling-green at that hour. +Indeed he had been watching the shaft of light thrown past him by +the room behind, and now moved so as to let it fall on the man that +addressed him. + +The other stands close under the window, as if to avoid this, and +calls again-- + +"Hist!" says he, and beckons with a finger. + +The man at the window still held his tongue (I suppose because those +in the room would hear him if he spoke), and so for a while the two +men studied one another in silence, as if considering their next +moves. + +After a bit, however, the bully lifted a hand, and turning back into +the lighted room, walks up to one of the players, speaks a word or +two and disappears. + +I sat up on the window seat, where till now I had been crouching for +fear the shaft of light should betray me, and presently (as I was +expecting) heard the latch of the back perch gently lifted, and +spied the heavy form of the bully coming softly over the grass. + +Now, I would not have my readers prejudiced, and so may tell them +this was the first time in my life I had played the eavesdropper. +That I did so now I can never be glad enough, but 'tis true, +nevertheless, my conscience pricked me; and I was even making a +motion to withdraw when that occurred which would have fixed any +man's attention, whether he wish'd it or no. + +The bully must have closed the door behind him but carelessly, for +hardly could he take a dozen steps when it opened again with a +scuffle, and the large house dog belonging to the "Crown" flew at +his heels with a vicious snarl and snap of the teeth. + +'Twas enough to scare the coolest. But the fellow turn'd as if shot, +and before he could snap again, had gripped him fairly by the throat. +The struggle that follow'd I could barely see, but I heard the +horrible sounds of it--the hard, short breathing of the man, the +hoarse rage working in the dog's throat--and it turned me sick. The +dog--a mastiff--was fighting now to pull loose, and the pair swayed +this way and that in the dusk, panting and murderous. + +I was almost shouting aloud--feeling as though 'twere my own throat +thus gripp'd--when the end came. The man had his legs planted well +apart. + +I saw his shoulders heave up and bend as he tightened the pressure +of his fingers; then came a moment's dead silence, then a hideous +gurgle, and the mastiff dropped back, his hind legs trailing limp. + +The bully held him so for a full minute, peering close to make sure +he was dead, and then without loosening his hold, dragged him across +the grass under my window. By the sycamore he halted, but only to +shift his hands a little; and so, swaying on his hips, sent the +carcase with a heave over the wall. I heard it drop with a thud on +the far side. + +During this fierce wrestle--which must have lasted about two +minutes--the clatter and shouting of the company above had gone on +without a break; and all this while the man with the white hair had +rested quietly on one side, watching. But now he steps up to where +the bully stood mopping his face (for all the coolness of the +evening), and, with a finger between the leaves of his book, bows +very politely. + +"You handled that dog, sir, choicely well," says he, in a thin voice +that seemed to have a chuckle hidden in it somewhere. + +The other ceased mopping to get a good look at him. + +"But sure," he went on, "'twas hard on the poor cur, that had never +heard of Captain Lucius Higgs--" + +I thought the bully would have had him by the windpipe and pitched +him after the mastiff, so fiercely he turn'd at the sound of this +name. But the old gentleman skipped back quite nimbly and held up a +finger. + +"I'm a man of peace. If another title suits you better--" + +"Where the devil got you that name?" growled the bully, and had half +a mind to come on again, but the other put in briskly-- + +"I'm on a plain errand of business. No need, as you hint, to mention +names; and therefore let me present myself as Mr. Z. The residue of +the alphabet is at your service to pick and choose from." + +"My name is Luke Settle," said the big man hoarsely (but whether +this was his natural voice or no I could not tell). + +"Let us say 'Mr. X.' I prefer it." + +The old gentleman, as he said this, popped his head on one side, +laid the forefinger of his right hand across the book, and seem'd to +be considering. + +"Why did you throttle that dog a minute ago?" he asked sharply. + +"Why, to save my skin," answers the fellow, a bit puzzled. + +"Would you have done it for fifty pounds?" + +"Aye, or half that." + +"And how if it had been a _puppy_, Mr. X?" + +Now all this from my hiding I had heard very clearly, for they stood +right under me in the dusk. But as the old gentleman paused to let +his question sink in, and the bully to catch the drift of it before +answering, one of the dicers above struck up to sing a catch---- + + "With a hey, trolly-lolly! a leg to the Devil, + And answer him civil, and off with your cap: + Sing--Hey, trolly-lolly! Good-morrow, Sir Evil, + We've finished the tap, + And, saving your worship, we care not a rap!" + +While this din continued, the stranger held up one forefinger again, +as if beseeching silence, the other remaining still between the +pages of his book. + +"Pretty boys!" he said, as the noise died away; "pretty boys! 'Tis +easily seen they have a bird to pluck." + +"He's none of my plucking." + +"And if he were, why not? Sure you've picked a feather or two before +now in the Low Countries--hey?" + +"I'll tell you what," interrupts the big man, "next time you crack +one of your death's-head jokes, over the wall you go after the dog. +What's to prevent it?" + +"Why, this," answers the old fellow, cheerfully. "There's money to +be made by doing no such thing. And I don't carry it all about with +me. So, as 'tis late, we'd best talk business at once." + +They moved away toward the seat under the sycamore, and now their +words reached me no longer--only the low murmur of their voices or +(to be correct) of the elder man's: for the other only spoke now and +then, to put a question, as it seemed. Presently I heard an oath +rapped out and saw the bully start up. "Hush, man!" cried the other, +and "hark-ye now--"; so he sat down again. Their very forms were +lost within the shadow. I, myself, was cold enough by this time and +had a cramp in one leg--but lay still, nevertheless. And after +awhile they stood up together, and came pacing across the bowling- +green, side by side, the older man trailing his foot painfully to +keep step. You may be sure I strain'd my ears. + +"--besides the pay," the stranger was saying, "there's all you can +win of this young fool, Anthony, and all you find on the pair, which +I'll wager--" + +They passed out of hearing, but turned soon, and came back again. +The big man was speaking this time. + +"I'll be shot if I know what game _you're_ playing in this." + +The elder chuckled softly. "I'll be shot if I mean you to," said he. + +And this was the last I heard. For now there came a clattering at +the door behind me, and Mr. Robert Drury reeled in, hiccuping a +maudlin ballad about "_Tib and young Colin, one fine day, beneath +the haycock shade-a_," &c., &c., and cursing to find his fire +gone out, and all in darkness. Liquor was ever his master, and to- +day the King's health had been a fair excuse. He did not spy me, but +the roar of his ballad had startled the two men outside, and so, +while he was stumbling over chairs, and groping for a tinder-box, I +slipp'd out in the darkness, and downstairs into the street. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE YOUNG MAN IN THE CLOAK OF AMBER SATIN, + +Guess, any of you, if these events disturbed my rest that night. +'Twas four o'clock before I dropp'd asleep in my bed in Trinity, and +my last thoughts were still busy with the words I had heard. Nor, on +the morrow, did it fair any better with me: so that, at rhetoric +lecture, our president--Dr. Ralph Kettle--took me by the ears before +the whole class. He was the fiercer upon me as being older than the +gross of my fellow-scholars, and (as he thought) the more restless +under discipline. "A tutor'd adolescence," he would say, "is a fair +grace before meat," and had his hourglass enlarged to point the +moral for us. But even a rhetoric lecture must have an end, and so, +tossing my gown to the porter, I set off at last for Magdalen Bridge, +where the new barricado was building, along the Physic Garden, in +front of East Gate. + +The day was dull and low'ring, though my wits were too busy to heed +the sky; but scarcely was I past the small gate in the city wall +when a brisk shower of hail and sleet drove me to shelter in the Pig +Market ( or _Proscholium_) before the Divinity School. 'Tis an +ample vaulted passage, as I dare say you know; and here I found a +great company of people already driven by the same cause. + +To describe them fully 'twould be necessary to paint the whole state +of our city in those distracted times, which I have neither wit nor +time for. But here, to-day, along with many doctors and scholars, +were walking courtiers, troopers, mountebanks, cut-purses, +astrologers, rogues and gamesters; together with many of the first +ladies and gentlemen of England, as the Prince Maurice, the lords +Andover, Digby and Colepepper, my lady Thynne, Mistress Fanshawe, Mr. +Secretary Nicholas, the famous Dr. Harvey, arm-in-arm with my lord +Falkland (whose boots were splash'd with mud, he having ridden over +from his house at Great Tew), and many such, all mix'd in this +incredible tag-rag. Mistress Fanshawe, as I remember, was playing on +a lute, which she carried always slung about her shoulders: and +close beside her, a fellow impudently puffing his specific against +the _morbus campestris_, which already had begun to invade us. + +"_Who'll buy?_" he was bawling. "'_Tis from the receipt of a famous +Italian, and never yet failed man, woman, nor child, unless the heart +were clean drown'd in the disease: the lest part of it good muscadine, +and has virtue against the plague, smallpox, or surfeits!_" + +I was standing before this jackanapes, when I heard a stir in the +crowd behind me, and another calling, "_Who'll buy? Who'll buy?_" + +Turning, I saw a young man, very gaily dressed, moving quickly about +at the far end of the Pig Market, and behind him an old lackey, bent +double with the weight of two great baskets that he carried. The +baskets were piled with books, clothes, and gewgaws of all kinds; +and 'twas the young gentleman that hawked his wares himself. "_What +d'ye lack?_" he kept shouting, and would stop to unfold his +merchandise, holding up now a book, and now a silk doublet, and +running over their merits like any huckster--but with the merriest +conceit in the world. + +And yet 'twas not this that sent my heart flying into my mouth at +the sight of him. For by his curls and womanish face, no less than +the amber cloak with the black bars, I knew him at once for the same +I had seen yesterday among the dicers. + +As I stood there, drawn this way and that by many reflections, he +worked his way through the press, selling here and there a trifle +from his baskets, and at length came to a halt in front of me. + +"Ha!" he cried, pulling off his plumed hat, and bowing low, "a +scholar, I perceive. Let me serve you, sir. Here is the 'History of +Saint George,'" and he picked out a thin brown quarto and held it +up; "written by Master Peter Heylin; a ripe book they tell me +(though, to be sure, I never read beyond the title), and the price +a poor two shillings." + +[Illustration: "A scholar, I perceive. Let me serve you sir?"--Page +30.] + +Now, all this while I was considering what to do. So, as I put my +hand in my pocket, and drew out the shillings, I said very slowly, +looking him in the eyes (but softly, so that the lackey might not +hear)---- + +"So thus you feed your expenses at the dice: and my shilling, no +doubt, is for Luke Settle, as well as the rest." + +For the moment, under my look, he went white to the lips; then +clapped his hand to his sword, withdrew it, and answered me, red as +a turkey-cock---- + +"Shalt be a parson, yet, Master Scholar: but art in a damn'd hurry, +it seems." + +Now, I had ever a quick temper, and as he turned on his heel, was +like to have replied and raised a brawl. My own meddling tongue had +brought the rebuff upon me: but yet my heart was hot as he walked +away. + +I was standing there and looking after him, turning over in my hand +the "Life of Saint George," when my fingers were aware of a slip of +paper between the pages. Pulling it out, I saw 'twas scribbled over +with writing and figures, as follows:-- + +"Mr. Anthony Killigrew, his acct for Oct. 25th, MDCXLII.--_For +herrings_, 2d.; _for coffie_, 4d.; _for scowring my coat_, 6d.; _at +bowls_, 5s. 10d.; _for bleading me_, 1s. 0d.; _for ye King's speech_, +3d.; _for spic'd wine (with Marjory)_, 2s. 4d.; _for seeing ye +Rhinoceros_, 4d.; _at ye Ranter-go-round_, 6 3/4d.; _for a pair of +silver buttons_, 2s. 6d.; _for apples_, 2 1/2d.; _for ale_, 6d.; _at +ye dice_, L17 5s.; _for spic'd wine (again)_, 4s. 6d." + +And so on. + +As I glanced my eye down this paper, my anger oozed away, and a +great feeling of pity came over me, not only at the name of Anthony +--the name I had heard spoken in the bowling-green last night--but +also to see that monstrous item of L17 odd spent on the dice. 'Twas +such a boy, too, after all, that I was angry with, that had spent +fourpence to see the rhinoceros at a fair, and rode on the ranter- +go-round (with "Marjory," no doubt, as 'twas for her, no doubt, the +silver buttons were bought). So that, with quick forgiveness, I +hurried after him, and laid a hand on his shoulder. + +He stood by the entrance, counting up his money, and drew himself up +very stiff. + +"I think, sir," said I, "this paper is yours." + +"I thank you," he answered, taking it, and eyeing me. "Is there +anything, besides, you wished to say?" + +"A great deal, maybe, if your name be Anthony." + +"Master Anthony Killigrew is my name, sir; now serving under Lord +Bernard Stewart in His Majesty's troop of guards." + +"And mine is Jack Marvel," said I. + +"Of the Yorkshire Marvels?" + +"Why, yes; though but a shoot of that good stock, transplanted to +Cumberland, and there sadly withered." + +"'Tis no matter, sir," said he politely; "I shall be proud to cross +swords with you." + +"Why, bless your heart!" I cried out, full of laughter at this +childish punctilio; "d'ye think I came to fight you?" + +"If not, sir"--and he grew colder than ever--"you are going a cursed +roundabout way to avoid it." + +Upon this, finding no other way out of it, I began my tale at once: +but hardly had come to the meeting of the two men on the bowling- +green, when he interrupts me politely---- + +"I think, Master Marvel, as yours is like to be a story of some +moment, I will send this fellow back to my lodgings. He's a long- +ear'd dog that I am saving from the gallows for so long as my +conscience allows me. The shower is done, I see; so if you know of +a retir'd spot, we will talk there more at our leisure." + +He dismiss'd his lackey, and stroll'd off with me to the Trinity +Grove, where, walking up and down, I told him all I had heard and +seen the night before. + +"And now," said I, "can you tell me if you have any such enemy as +this white-hair'd man, with the limping gait?" + +He had come to a halt, sucking in his lips and seeming to reflect-- + +"I know one man," he began: "but no--'tis impossible." + +As I stood, waiting to hear more, he clapp'd his hand in mine, very +quick and friendly: "Jack," he cried;--"I'll call thee Jack--'twas +an honest good turn thou hadst in thy heart to do me, and I a surly +rogue to think of fighting--I that could make mincemeat of thee." + +"I can fence a bit," answer'd I. + +"Now, say no more, Jack: I love thee." + +He look'd in my face, still holding my hand and smiling. Indeed, +there was something of the foreigner in his brisk graceful ways--yet +not unpleasing. I was going to say I had never seen the like--ah, +me! that both have seen and know the twin image so well. + +"I think," said I, "you had better be considering what to do." + +He laugh'd outright this time; and resting with his legs cross'd, +against the trunk of an elm, twirl'd an end of his long lovelocks, +and looked at me comically. Said he: "Tell me, Jack, is there aught +in me that offends thee?" + +"Why, no," I answered. "I think you're a very proper young man--such +as I should loathe to see spoil'd by Master Settle's knife." + +"Art not quick at friendship, Jack, but better at advising; only in +this case fortune has prevented thy good offices. Hark ye," he +lean'd forward and glanc'd to right and left, "if these twain intend +my hurt--as indeed 'twould seem--they lose their labor: for this +very night I ride from Oxford." + +"And why is that?" + +"I'll tell thee, Jack, tho' I deserve to be shot. I am bound with a +letter from His Majesty to the Army of the West, where I have +friends, for my father's sake--Sir Deakin Killigrew of Gleys, in +Cornwall. 'Tis a sweet country, they say, tho' I have never seen +it." + +"Not seen thy father's country?" + +"Why no--for he married a Frenchwoman, Jack, God rest her dear +soul!"--he lifted his hat--"and settled in that country, near +Morlaix, in Brittany, among my mother's kin; my grandfather refusing +to see or speak with him, for wedding a poor woman without his +consent. And in France was I born and bred, and came to England two +years agone; and this last July the old curmudgeon died. So that my +father, who was an only son, is even now in England returning to his +estates: and with him my only sister Delia. I shall meet them on the +way. To think of it!" (and I declare the tears sprang to his eyes): +"Delia will be a woman grown, and ah! to see dear Cornwall +together!" + +Now I myself was only a child, and had been made an orphan when but +nine years old, by the smallpox that visited our home in Wastdale +Village, and carried off my father, the Vicar, and my dear mother. +Yet his simple words spoke to my heart and woke so tender a yearning +for the small stone cottage, and the bridge, and the grey fells of +Yewbarrow above it, that a mist rose in my eyes too, and I turn'd +away to hide it. + +"'Tis a ticklish business," said I after a minute, "to carry the +King's letter. Not one in four of his messengers comes through, they +say. But since it keeps you from the dice----" + +"That's true. To-night I make an end." + +"To-night!" + +"Why, yes. To-night I go for my revenge, and ride straight from the +inn door." + +"Then I go with you to the 'Crown,'" I cried, very positive. + +He dropp'd playing with his curl, and look'd me in the face, his +mouth twitching with a queer smile. + +"And so thou shalt Jack: but why?" + +"I'll give no reason," said I, and knew I was blushing. + +"Then be at the corner of All Hallows' Church in Turl Street at +seven to-night. I lodge over Master Simon's, the glover, and must be +about my affairs. Jack,"--he came near and took my hand--"am sure +thou lovest me." + +He nodded, with another cordial smile, and went his way up the grove, +his amber cloak flaunting like a belated butterfly under the leaf +less trees; and so pass'd out of my sight. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +I FIND MYSELF IN A TAVERN BRAWL: AND BARELY ESCAPE. + + +It wanted, maybe, a quarter to seven, that evening, when, passing +out at the College Gate on my way to All Hallows' Church, I saw +under the lantern there a man loitering and talking with the porter. +'Twas Master Anthony's lackey; and as I came up, he held out a note +for me. + +Deare Jack + +Wee goe to the "Crowne" at VI. o'clock, I having mett with Captain +Settle, who is on dewty with the horse tonite, and must to Abendonn +by IX. I looke for you--- + Your unfayned loving + A. K. + +The bearer has left my servise, and his helth conserus me nott. Soe +kik him if he tarrie. + +This last advice I had no time to carry out with any thoroughness: +but being put in a great dread by this change of hour, pelted off +toward the Corn Market as fast as legs could take me, which was the +undoing of a little round citizen into whom I ran full tilt at the +corner of Balliol College: who, before I could see his face in the +darkness, was tipp'd on his back in the gutter and using the most +dismal expressions. So I left him, considering that my excuses would +be unsatisfying to his present demands, and to his cooler judgment +a superfluity. + +The windows of the "Crown" were cheerfully lit behind their red +blinds. A few straddling grooms and troopers talked and spat in the +brightness of the entrance, and outside in the street was a servant +leading up and down a beautiful sorrel mare, ready saddled, that was +mark'd on the near hind leg with a high white stocking. In the +passage, I met the host of the "Crown," Master John Davenant, and +sure (I thought) in what odd corners will the Muse pick up her +favorites! For this slow, loose-cheek'd vintner was no less than +father to Will Davenant, our Laureate, and had belike read no other +verse in his life but those at the bottom of his own pint-pots. + +"Top of the stairs," says he, indicating my way, "and open the door +ahead of you, if y'are the young gentleman Master Killigrew spoke +of." + +I had my foot on the bottom step, when from the room above comes the +crash of a table upsetting, with a noise of broken glass, chairs +thrust back, and a racket of outcries. Next moment, the door was +burst open, letting out a flood of light and curses; and down flies +a drawer, three steps at a time, with a red stain of wine trickling +down his white face. + +"Murder!" he gasped out; and sitting down on a stair, fell to +mopping his face, all sick and trembling. + +I was dashing past him, with the landlord at my heels, when three +men came tumbling out at the door, and downstairs. I squeezed myself +against the wall to let them pass: but Master Davenant was pitch'd +to the very foot of the stairs. And then he picked himself up and +ran out into the Corn Market, the drawer after him, and both +shouting "Watch! Watch!" at the top of their lungs; and so left the +three fellows to push by the women already gathered in the passage, +and gain the street at their ease. All this happen'd while a man +could count twenty; and in half a minute I heard the ring of steel +and was standing in the doorway. + +There was now no light within but what was shed by the fire and two +tallow candles that gutter'd on the mantelshelf. The remaining +candlesticks lay in a pool of wine on the floor, amid broken glasses, +bottles, scattered coins, dice boxes and pewter pots. In the corner +to my right cower'd a potboy, with tankard dangling in his hand, and +the contents spilling into his shoes. His wide terrified eyes were +fix'd on the far end of the room, where Anthony and the brute Settle +stood, with a shattered chair between them. Their swords were +cross'd in tierce, and grating together as each sought occasion for +a lunge: which might have been fair enough but for a dog-fac'd +trooper in a frowsy black periwig, who, as I enter'd, was gathering +a handful of coins from under the fallen table, and now ran across, +sword in hand, to the Captain's aid. + +'Twas Anthony that fac'd me, with his heel against the wainscoting, +and, catching my cry of alarm, he call'd out cheerfully over the +Captain's shoulder, but without lifting his eyes-- + +"Just in time, Jack! Take off the second cur, that's a sweet boy!" + +Now I carried no sword; but seizing the tankard from the potboy's +hand, I hurl'd it at the dog-fac'd trooper. It struck him fair +between the shoulder blades; and with a yell of pain he spun round +and came toward me, his point glittering in a way that turn'd me +cold. I gave back a pace, snatch'd up a chair (that luckily had a +wooden seat) and with my back against the door, waited his charge. + +'Twas in this posture that, flinging a glance across the room, I saw +the Captain's sword describe a small circle of light, and next +moment, with a sharp cry, Anthony caught at the blade, and stagger'd +against the wall, pinn'd through the chest to the wainscoting. + +"Out with the lights, Dick!" bawl'd Settle, tugging out his point. +"Quick, fool--the window!" + +Dick, with a back sweep of his hand, sent the candles flying off the +shelf; and, save for the flicker of the hearth, we were in darkness. +I felt, rather than saw, his rush toward me; leap'd aside; and +brought down my chair with a crash on his skull. He went down like +a ninepin, but scrambled up in a trice, and was running for the +window. + +There was a shout below as the Captain thrust the lattice open: +another, and the two dark forms had clambered through the purple +square of the casement, and dropped into the bowling-green below. + +By this, I had made my way across the room, and found Anthony sunk +against the wall, with his feet outstretched. There was something he +held out toward me, groping for my hand and at the same time +whispering in a thick, choking voice-- + +"Here, Jack, here: pocket it quick!" + +'Twas a letter, and as my fingers closed on it they met a damp smear, +the meaning of which was but too plain. + +"Button it--sharp--in thy breast: now feel for my sword." + +"First let me tend thy hurt, dear lad." + +"Nay--quickly, my sword! 'Tis pretty, Jack, to hear thee say 'dear +lad.' A cheat to die like this--could have laugh'd for years yet. +The dice were cogg'd--hast found it?" + +I groped beside him, found the hilt, and held it up. + +"So--'tis thine, Jack: and my mare, Molly, and the letter to take. +Say to Delia--Hark! they are on the stairs. Say to--" + +With a shout the door was flung wide, and on the threshold stood the +Watch, their lanterns held high and shining in Anthony's white face, +and on the black stain where his doublet was thrown open. + +In numbers they were six or eight, led by a small, wrynecked man +that held a long staff, and wore a gilt chain over his furr'd collar. +Behind, in the doorway, were huddled half a dozen women, peering: +and Master Davenant at the back of all, his great face looming over +their shoulders like a moon. + +"Now, speak up, Master Short!" + +"Aye, that I will--that I will: but my head is considering of +affairs," answered Master Short--he of the wryneck. "One, two, +three--" He look'd round the room, and finding but one capable of +resisting (for the potboy was by this time in a fit), clear'd his +throat, and spoke up-- + +"In the king's name, I arrest you all--so help me God! Now what's +the matter?" + +"Murder," said I, looking up from my work of staunching Anthony's +wound. + +"Then forbear, and don't do it." + +"Why, Master Short, they've been forbearin' these ten minutes," a +woman's voice put in. + +"Hush, and hear Master Short: he knows the law, an' all the dubious +maxims of the same." + +"Aye, aye: he says forbear i' the King's name, which is to say, that +other forbearing is neither law nor grace. Now then, Master Short!" + +Thus exhorted, the man of law continued-- + +"I charge ye as honest men to disperse!" + +"Odds truth, Master Short, why you've just laid 'em under arrest!" + +"H'm, true: then let 'em stay so--in the king's name--and have done +with it." + +Master Short, in fact, was growing testy: but now the women push'd +by him, and, by screaming at the sight of blood, put him out of all +patience. Dragging them back by the skirts, he told me he must take +the depositions, and pull'd out pen and ink horn. + +"Sirs," said I, laying poor Anthony's head softly back, "you are too +late: whilst ye were cackling my friend is dead." + +"Then, young man, thou must come along." + +"Come along?" + +"The charge is _homocidium_, or manslaying, with or without malice +prepense--" + +"But--" I look'd round. The potboy was insensible, and my eyes fell +on Master Davenant, who slowly shook his head. + +"I'll say not a word," said he, stolidly: "lost twenty pound, one +time, by a lawsuit." + +"Pack of fools!" I cried, driven beyond endurance. "The guilty ones +have escap'd these ten minutes. Now stop me who dares!" + +And dashing my left fist on the nose of a watchman who would have +seized me, I clear'd a space with Anthony's sword, made a run for +the casement, and dropp'd out upon the bowling-green. + +A pretty shout went up as I pick'd myself off the turf and rush'd +for the back door. 'Twas unbarr'd, and in a moment I found myself +tearing down the passage and out into the Corn Market, with a score +or so tumbling downstairs at my heels, and yelling to stop me. +Turning sharp to my right, I flew up Ship Street, and through the +Turl, and doubled back up the High Street, sword in hand. The people +I pass'd were too far taken aback, as I suppose, to interfere. But +a many must have join'd in the chase: for presently the street behind +me was thick with the clatter of footsteps and cries of "A thief--a +thief! Stop him!" + +At Quater Voies I turn'd again, and sped down toward St. Aldate's, +thence to the left by Wild Boar Street, and into St. Mary's Lane. By +this, the shouts had grown fainter, but were still following. Now I +knew there was no possibility to get past the city gates, which were +well guarded at night. My hope reach'd no further than the chance of +outwitting the pursuit for a while longer. In the end I was sure the +potboy's evidence would clear me, and therefore began to enjoy the +fun. Even my certain expulsion from College on the morrow seem'd of +a piece with the rest of events and (prospectively) a matter for +laughter. For the struggle at the "Crown" had unhinged my wits, as +I must suppose and you must believe, if you would understand my +behavior in the next half hour. + +A bright thought had struck me: and taking a fresh wind, I set off +again round the corner of Oriel College, and down Merton Street +toward Master Timothy Carter's house, my mother's cousin. This +gentleman--who was town clerk to the Mayor and Corporation of +Oxford--was also in a sense my guardian, holding it trust about L200 +(which was all my inheritance), and spending the same jealously on +my education. He was a very small, precise lawyer, about sixty years +old, shaped like a pear, with a prodigious self-important manner +that came of associating with great men: and all the knowledge I had +of him was pick'd up on the rare occasions (about twice a year) that +I din'd at his table. He had early married and lost an aged shrew, +whose money had been the making of him: and had more respect for law +and authority than any three men in Oxford. So that I reflected, +with a kind of desperate hilarity, on the greeting he was like to +give me. + +This kinsman of mine had a fine house at the east end of Merton +Street as you turn into Logic Lane: and I was ten yards from the +front door, and running my fastest, when suddenly I tripp'd and fell +headlong. + +Before I could rise, a hand was on my shoulder, and a voice speaking +in my ear-- + +"Pardon, comrade. We are two of a trade, I see." + +'Twas a fellow that had been lurking at the corner of the lane, and +had thrust out a leg as I pass'd. He was pricking up his ears now to +the cries of "Thief--thief!" that had already reach'd the head of +the street, and were drawing near. + +"I am no thief," said I. + +"Quick!" He dragged me into the shadow of the lane. "Hast a crown in +thy pocket?" + +"Why?" + +"Why, for a good turn. I'll fog these gentry for thee. Many thanks, +comrade," as I pull'd out the last few shillings of my pocket money. +"Now pitch thy sword over the wall here, and set thy foot on my hand. +'Tis a rich man's garden, t'other side, that I was meaning to +explore myself; but another night will serve." + +"'Tis Master Carter's," said I; "and he's my kinsman." + +"The devil!--but never mind, up with thee! Now mark a pretty piece +of play. 'Tis pity thou shouldst be across the wall and unable to +see." + +He gave a great hoist: catching at the coping of the wall, I pull'd +myself up and sat astride of it. + +"Good turf below--ta-ta, comrade!" + +By now, the crowd was almost at the corner. Dropping about eight +feet on to good turf, as the fellow had said, I pick'd myself up and +listen'd. + +"Which way went he?" call'd one, as they came near. + +"Down the street!" "No: up the lane!'" "Hush!" "Up the lane, I'll be +sworn." "Here, hand the lantern!" &c., &c. + +While they debated, my friend stood close on the other side of the +wall: but now I heard him dash suddenly out, and up the lane for his +life. "There he goes!" "Stop him!" the cries broke out afresh. "Stop +him, i' the king's name!" The whole pack went pelting by, shouting, +stumbling, swearing. + +For two minutes or more the stragglers continued to hurry past by +ones and twos. As soon as their shouts died away, I drew freer +breath and look'd around. + +I was in a small, turfed garden, well stock'd with evergreen shrubs, +at the back of a tall house that I knew for Master Carter's. But +what puzzled me was a window in the first floor, very brightly lit, +and certain sounds issuing therefrom that had no correspondence with +my kinsman's reputation. + + "It was a frog leap'd into a pool-- + Fol--de--riddle, went souse in the middle! + Says he, This is better than moping in school. + With a--" + +"--Your Royal Highness, have some pity! What hideous folly! Oh, dear, +dear--" + + "With a fa-la-tweedle-tweedle, + Tiddifol-iddifol-ido!" + +"--Your Royal Highness, I _cannot_ sing the dreadful stuff! Think of +my grey hairs!" + +"Tush! Master Carter--nonsense; 'tis choicely well sung. Come, +brother, the chorus!" + + "With a fa-la--" + + +And the chorus was roar'd forth, with shouts of laughter and +clinking of glasses. Then came an interval of mournful appeal, and +my kinsman's voice was again lifted---- + + "He scattered the tadpoles, and set 'em agog, + Hey! nod-noddy-all head and no body! + Oh, mammy! Oh, minky!--" + +"--O, mercy, mercy! it makes me sweat for shame." + +Now meantime I had been searching about the garden, and was lucky +enough to find a tool shed, and inside of this a ladder hanging, +which now I carried across and planted beneath the window. I had a +shrewd notion of what I should find at the top, remembering now to +have heard that the Princes Rupert and Maurice were lodging with +Master Carter: but the truth beat all my fancies. + +For climbing softly up and looking in, I beheld my poor kinsman +perch'd on his chair a-top of the table, in the midst of glasses, +decanters, and desserts: his wig askew, his face white, save where, +between the eyes, a medlar had hit and broken, and his glance +shifting wildly between the two princes, who in easy postures, loose +and tipsy, lounged on either side of him, and beat with their +glasses on the board. + +"Bravissimo! More, Master Carter--more!" + + "O mammy, O nunky, here's cousin Jack Frog-- + With a fa-la--" + +I lifted my knuckles and tapp'd on the pane; whereon Prince Maurice +starts up with an oath, and coming to the window, flings it open. + +"Pardon, your Highness," said I, and pull'd myself past him into the +room, as cool as you please. + +'Twas worth while to see their surprise. Prince Maurice ran back to +the table for his sword: his brother (being more thoroughly drunk) +dropped a decanter on the floor, and lay back staring in his chair. +While as for my kinsman, he sat with mouth wide and eyes starting, +as tho' I were a very ghost. In the which embarrassment I took +occasion to say, very politely-- + +"Good evening, nunky!" + +"Who the devil is this?" gasps Prince Rupert. + +"Why the fact is, your Highnesses," answered I, stepping up and +laying my sword on the table, while I pour'd out a glass, "Master +Timothy Carter here is my guardian, and has the small sum of L200 in +his possession for my use, of which I happen to-night to stand in +immediate need. So you see--" I finished the sentence by tossing off +a glass. "This is rare stuff!" I said. + +"Blood and fury!" burst out Prince Rupert, fumbling for his sword, +and then gazing, drunk and helpless. + +"Two hundred pound! Thou jackanapes--" began Master Carter. + +"I'll let you off with fifty to-night," said I. + +"Ten thousand--!" + +"No, fifty. Indeed, nunky," I went on, "'tis very simple. I was at +the 'Crown' tavern--" + +"At a tavern!" + +"Aye, at a game of dice--" + +"Dice!" + +"Aye, and a young man was killed--" + +"Thou shameless puppy! A man murder'd!" + +"Aye, nunky; and the worst is they say 'twas I that kill'd him." + +"He's mad. The boy's stark raving mad!" exclaim'd my kinsman. "To +come here in this trim!" + +"Why, truly, nunky, thou art a strange one to talk of appearances. +Oh, dear!" and I burst into a wild fit of laughing, for the wine had +warm'd me up to play the comedy out. "To hear thee sing + + "'With a fa--la--tweedle--tweedle!' + +and--Oh, nunky, that medlar on thy face is so funny!" + +"In Heaven's name, stop!" broke in the Prince Maurice. "Am I mad, or +only drunk? Rupert, if you love me, say I am no worse than drunk." + +"Lord knows," answer'd his brother. "I for one was never this way +before." + +"Indeed, your Highnesses be only drunk," said I, "and able at that +to sign the order that I shall ask you for." + +"An order!" + +"To pass the city gates to-night." + +"Oh, stop him somebody," groan'd Prince Rupert: "my head is +whirling." + +"With your leave," I explain'd, pouring out another glassful: "tis +the simplest matter, and one that a child could understand. You see, +this young man was kill'd, and they charg'd me with it; so away I +ran, and the Watch after me; and therefore I wish to pass the city +gates. And as I may have far to travel, and gave my last groat to a +thief for hoisting me over Master Carter's wall--" + +"A thief--my wall!" repeated Master Carter. "Oh well is thy poor +mother in her grave!" + +"--Why, therefore I came for money," I wound up, sipping the wine, +and nodding to all present. + +'Twas at this moment that, catching my eye, the Prince Maurice +slapp'd his leg, and leaning back, broke into peal after peal of +laughter. And in a moment his brother took the jest also; and there +we three sat and shook, and roar'd unquenchably round Master Carter, +who, staring blankly from one to another, sat gaping, as though the +last alarm were sounding in his ears. + +"Oh! oh! oh! Hit me on the back, Maurice!" + +"Oh! oh! I cannot--'tis killing me--Master Carter, for pity's sake, +look not so; but pay the lad his money." + +"Your Highness----" + +"Pay it I say; pay it: 'tis fairly won." + +"Fifty pounds!" + +"Every doit," said I: "I'm sick of schooling." + +"Be hang'd if I do!" snapp'd Master Carter. + +"Then be hang'd, sir, but all the town shall hear to-morrow of the +frog and the pool! No, sir: I am off to see the world---- + + "'Says he: "This is better than moping in school!"'" + +"Your Highnesses," pleaded the unhappy man, "if, to please you, I +sang that idiocy, which, for fifty years now, I had forgotten----" + +"Exc'll'nt shong," says Prince Rupert, waking up; "less have't +again!" + + * * * * * + +To be short, ten o'clock was striking from St. Mary's spire when, +with a prince on either side of me, and thirty guineas in my pocket +(which was all the loose gold he had), I walked forth from Master +Carter's door. To make up the deficiency, their highnesses had +insisted on furnishing me with a suit made up from the simplest in +their joint wardrobes--riding-boots, breeches, buff-coat, sash, +pistols, cloak, and feather'd hat, all of which fitted me +excellently well. By the doors of Christ Church, before we came to +the south gate, Prince Rupert, who had been staggering in his walk, +suddenly pull'd up, and leaned against the wall. + +"Why--odd's my life--we've forgot a horse for him!" he cried. + +"Indeed, your Highness," I answered, "if my luck holds the same, I +shall find one by the road." (How true this turned out you shall +presently hear.) + +There was no difficulty at the gate, where the sentry recogniz'd the +two princes and open'd the wicket at once. Long after it had clos'd +behind me, and I stood looking back at Oxford towers, all bath'd in +the winter moonlight, I heard the two voices roaring away up the +street: + + "It was a frog leap'd into a pool--" + +At length they died into silence; and, hugging the king's letter in +my breast, I stepped briskly forward on my travels. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +I TAKE THE ROAD. + + +So puffed up was I by the condescension of the two princes, and my +head so busy with big thoughts, that not till I was over the bridges +and climbing the high ground beyond South Hincksey, with a shrewd +northeast wind at my back, could I spare time for a second backward +look. By this, the city lay spread at my feet, very delicate and +beautiful in a silver network, with a black clump or two to +southward, where the line of Bagley trees ran below the hill. I +pulled out the letter that Anthony had given me. In the moonlight +the brown smear of his blood was plain to see, running across the +superscription: + +"_To our trusty and well beloved Sir Ralph Hopton, at our Army in +Cornwall--these._" + +'Twas no more than I look'd for; yet the sight of it and the king's +red seal, quicken'd my step as I set off again. And I cared not a +straw for Dr. Kettle's wrath on the morrow. + +Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay +around Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape +my course for Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. 'Tis not +my purpose to describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to +reserve my pen for those more moving events that overtook me later. +Only in the uncertain light I must have taken a wrong turn to the +left (I think near Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for, +coming about daybreak to a considerable town, I found it to be, not +Faringdon, but Wantage. There was no help for it, so I set about +enquiring for a bed. The town was full, and already astir with +preparations for cattle-fair; and neither at the "Bear" nor the +"Three Nuns" was there a bed to be had. But at length at the "Boot" +tavern--a small house, I found one just vacated by a couple of +drovers, and having cozen'd the chambermaid to allow me a clean pair +of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in five minutes was +sleeping sound. + +I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of +womankind. + +"He's waking," said one. + +"Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus--and he such a pretty young +man!" + +This came from the landlady, who stood close, her hand shaking my +shoulder roughly. + +"What's amiss?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. + +"Why, 'tis three of the afternoon." + +"Then I'll get up, as soon as you retire." + +"Lud! we've been trying to wake thee this hour past; but 'twas +sleep--sleep!" + +"I'll get up, I tell you." + +"Thought thee'd ha' slept through the bed and right through to the +floor," said the chambermaid by the door, tittering. + +"Unless you pack and go, I'll step out amongst you all!" + +Whereat they fled with mock squeals, calling out that the very +thought made them blush: and left me to dress. + +Downstairs I found a giant's breakfast spread for me, and ate the +hole, and felt the better for it: and thereupon paid my scot, +resisting the landlady's endeavor to charge me double for the bed, +and walked out to see the town. + +"Take care o' thysel'," the chambermaid bawled after me; "nor +flourish thy attainments abroad, lest they put thee in a show!" + +Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended +purchasing a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over, +the cattle-pens broken up, and the dealers gather'd round the +fiddlers, ballad singers, and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming +booths, too, driving a brisk trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and +Costly Colors; and an eating tent, whence issued a thick reek of +cooking and loud rattle of plates. Over the entrance, I remember, +was set a notice: "_Dame Alloway from Bartholomew Fair. Here are +the best geese, and she does them as well as ever she did_." I +jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my pockets, for fear of +cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the street, there +arose the noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward it; and in +a minute I was left alone, standing before a juggler who had a sword +halfway down his throat, and had to draw it out again before he +could with any sufficiency curse the defection of his audience; but +offered to pull out a tooth for me if I wanted it. + +I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn'd the cause of +this tumult. + +'Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking +pockets: and they were dragging him off to be duck'd. Now in the +heart of Wantage the little stream that runs through the town is +widen'd into a cistern about ten feet square, and five in depth, +over which hung a ducking stool for scolding wives. And since the +townspeople draw their water from this cistern, 'tis to be supposed +they do not fear the infection. A long beam on a pivot hangs out +over the pool, and to the end is a chair fasten'd; into which, +despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped this poor wretch, +whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him. + +Souse! he was plunged: hauled up choking and dripping: then--just as +he found tongue to shriek--souse! again. + +'Twas a dismal punishment; and this time they kept him under for a +full half minute. But as the beam was lifted again, I heard a +hullaballoo and a cry-- + +"The bear! the bear!" + +And turning, I saw a great brown form lumbering down the street +behind, and driving the people before it like chaff. + +The crowd at the brink of the pool scatter'd to right and left, +yelling. Up flew the beam of the ducking stool, reliev'd of their +weight, and down with a splash went the pickpocket at the far end. +As well for my own skin's sake as out of pity to see him drowning, +I jumped into the water. In two strokes I reach'd him, gained footing, +and with Anthony's sword cut the straps away and pull'd him up. And +there we stood, up to our necks, coughing and spluttering; while on +the deserted brink the bear sniff'd at the water and regarded us. + +No doubt we appear'd contemptible enough: for after a time he turned +with a louder sniff, and went his way lazily up the street again. He +had broken out from the pit wherein, for the best part of the day, +they had baited him; yet seemed to bear little malice. For he +saunter'd about the town for an hour or two, hurting no man, but +making a clean sweep of every sweet stall in his way; and was taken +at last very easily, with his head in a treacle cask, by the bear +ward and a few dogs. + +Meanwhile the pickpocket and I had scrambled out by the further bank +and wrung our clothes. He seemed to resent his treatment no more +than did the bear. + +"Ben cove--'tis a good world. My thanks!" + +And with this scant gratitude he was gone, leaving me to make my way +back to the sign of "The Boot," where the chambermaid led me +upstairs, and took away my clothes to dry by the fire. I determin'd +to buy a horse on the morrow, and with my guineas and the King's +letter under the pillow, dropp'd off to slumber again. + +My powers of sleep must have been nois'd abroad by the hostess: for +next morning at the breakfast ordinary, the dealers and drovers laid +down knife and fork to stare as I enter'd. After a while one or two +lounged out and brought in others to look: so that soon I was in a +ring of stupid faces, all gazing like so many cows. + +For a while I affected to eat undisturbed: but lost patience at last +and addressed a red-headed gazer---- + +"If you take me for a show, you ought to pay." + +"That's fair," said the fellow, and laid a groat on the board. This +came near to putting me in a passion, but his face was serious. +"'Tis a real pleasure," he added heartily, "to look on one so +gifted." + +"If any of you," I said, "could sell me a horse----" + +At once there was a clamor, all bidding in one breath for my custom. +So finishing my breakfast, I walked out with them to the tavern yard, +where I had my pick among the sorriest-looking dozen of nags in +England, and finally bought from the red-haired man, for five pounds, +bridle, saddle, and a flea-bitten grey that seem'd more honestly +raw-boned than the rest. And the owner wept tears at the parting +with his beast, and thereby added a pang to the fraud he had already +put upon me. And I rode from the tavern door suspecting laughter in +the eyes of every passer-by. + +The day ('twas drawing near noon as I started) was cold and clear, +with a coating of rime over the fields: and my horse's feet rang +cheerfully on the frozen road. His pace was of the soberest: but, as +I was no skilful rider, this suited me rather than not. Only it was +galling to be told so, as happened before I had gone three miles. + +'Twas my friend the pickpocket: and he sat before a fire of dry +sticks a little way back from the road. His scanty hair, stiff as a +badger's, now stood upright around his batter'd cap, and he look'd +at me over the bushes, with his hook'd nose thrust forward like a +bird's beak. + +"Bien lightmans, comrade--good day! 'Tis a good world; so stop and +dine." + +I pull'd up my grey. + +"Glad you find it so," I answered; "you had a nigh chance to compare +it with the next, last night." + +"Shan't do so well i' the next, I fear," he said with a twinkle: +"but I owe thee something, and here's a hedgehog that in five +minutes'll be baked to a turn. 'Tis a good world, and the better +that no man can count on it. Last night my dripping duds helped me +to a cant tale, and got me a silver penny from a man of religion. +Good's in the worst; and life's like hunting the squirrel--a man +gets much good exercise thereat, but seldom what he hunts for." + +"That's as good morality as Aristotle's," said I. + +"'Tis better for _me_, because 'tis mine." While I tether'd my +horse he blew at the embers, wherein lay a good-sized ball of clay, +baking. After a while he look'd up with red cheeks. "They were so +fast set on drowning me," he continued with a wink, "they couldn't +spare time to look i' my pocket--the ruffin cly them!" + +He pull'd the clay ball out of the fire, crack'd it, and lo! inside +was a hedgehog cook'd, the spikes sticking in the clay, and coming +away with it. So he divided the flesh with his knife, and upon a +slice of bread from his wallet it made very delicate eating: tho' I +doubt if I enjoyed it as much as did my comrade, who swore over and +over that the world was good, and as the wintry sun broke out, and +the hot ashes warm'd his knees, began to chatter at a great pace. + +"Why, sir, but for the pretty uncertainty of things I'd as lief die +here as I sit----" + +He broke off at the sound of wheels, and a coach with two +postillions spun past us on the road. + +I had just time to catch a glimpse of a figure huddled in the corner, +and a sweet pretty girl with chestnut curls seated beside it, behind +the glass. After the coach came a heavy broad-shoulder'd servant +riding on a stout grey; who flung us a sharp glance as he went by, +and at twenty yards' distance turn'd again to look. + +"That's luck," observed the pickpocket, as the travelers disappear'd +down the highway: "Tomorrow, with a slice of it, I might be riding +in such a coach as that, and have the hydropsy, to boot. Good lack! +when I was ta'en prisoner by the Turks a-sailing i' the _Mary_ of +London, and sold for a slave at Algiers, I escap'd, after two months, +with Eli Sprat, a Gravesend man, in a small open boat. Well, we sail'd +three days and nights, and all the time there was a small sea bird +following, flying round and round us, and calling two notes that +sounded for all the world like 'Wind'ard! Wind'ard!' So at last says +Eli, ''Tis heaven's voice bidding us ply to wind'ard.' And so we did, +and on the fourth day made Marseilles; and who should be first to meet +Eli on the quay but a Frenchwoman he had married five years before, +and left. And the jade had him clapp'd in the pillory, alongside of a +cheating fishmonger with a collar of stinking smelts, that turn'd poor +Eli's stomach completely. Now there's somewhat to set against the +story of Whittington next time 'tis told you." + +I was now for bidding the old rascal good-bye. But he offer'd to go +with me as far as Hungerford, where we should turn into the Bath +road. At first I was shy of accepting, by reason of his coat, +wherein patches of blue, orange-tawny and flame-color quite overlaid +the parent black: but closed with him upon his promise to teach me +the horsemanship that I so sadly lacked. And by time we enter'd +Hungerford town I was advanced so far, and bestrode my old grey so +easily, that in gratitude I offer'd him supper and bed at an inn, if +he would but buy a new coat: to which he agreed, saying that the +world was good. + +By this, the day was clouded over and the rain coming down apace. So +that as soon as my comrade was decently array'd at the first +slopshop we came to, 'twas high time to seek an inn. We found +quarters at "The Horn," and sought the travelers' room, and a fire +to dry ourselves. + +In this room, at the window, were two men who look'd lazily up at +our entrance. They were playing at a game, which was no other than +to race two snails up a pane of glass and wager which should prove +the faster. + +"A wet day!" said my comrade, cheerfully. + +The pair regarded him. "I'll lay you a crown it clears within the +hour!" said one. + +"And I another," put in the other; and with that they went back to +their sport. + +Drawing near, I myself was soon as eager as they in watching the +snails, when my companion drew my notice to a piece of writing on +the window over which they were crawling. 'Twas a set of verses +scribbled there, that must have been scratch'd with a diamond: and +to my surprise--for I had not guess'd him a scholar--he read them +out for my benefit. Thus the writing ran, for I copied it later: + +"_Master Ephraim Tucker_, his dying councell to wayfardingers; to seek +_The Splendid Spur_. + + "Not on the necks of prince or hound, + Nor on a woman's finger twin'd, + May gold from the deriding ground + Keep sacred that we sacred bind + Only the heel + Of splendid steel + Shall stand secure on sliding fate, + When golden navies weep their freight. + + "The scarlet hat, the laurell'd stave + Are measures, not the springs, of worth; + In a wife's lap, as in a grave, + Man's airy notions mix with earth. + Seek other spur + Bravely to stir + The dust in this loud world, and tread + Alp-high among the whisp'ring dead. + + "_Trust in thyself_,--then spur amain: + So shall Charybdis wear a grace, + Grim Aetna laugh, the Lybian plain + Take roses to her shrivell'd face. + This orb--this round + Of sight and sound-- + Count it the lists that God hath built + For haughty hearts to ride a-tilt. + +"FINIS-Master Tucker's Farewell." + +"And a very pretty moral on four gentlemen that pass their afternoon +a setting snails to race!" + +At these words, spoken in a delicate foreign voice we all started +round: and saw a young lady standing behind us. + +Now that she was the one who had passed us in the coach I saw at +once. But describe her--to be plain--I cannot, having tried a many +times. So let me say only that she was the prettiest creature on +God's earth (which, I hope, will satisfy her); that she had chestnut +curls and a mouth made for laughing; that she wore a kirtle and +bodice of grey silk taffety, with a gold pomander-box hung on a +chain about her neck; and held out a drinking glass toward us with +a Frenchified grace. + +"Gentlemen, my father is sick, and will taste no water but what is +freshly drawn. I ask you not to brave Charybdis or Aetna, but to step +out into the rainy yard and draw me a glassful from the pump there: +for our servant is abroad in the town." + +To my deep disgust, before I could find a word, that villainous old +pickpocket had caught the glass from her hand and reached the door. +But I ran after; and out into the yard we stepp'd together, where I +pump'd while he held the glass to the spout, flinging away the +contents time after time, till the bubbles on the brim, and the film +on the outside, were to his liking. + +'Twas he, too, that gain'd the thanks on our return. + +"Mistress," said he with a bow, "my young friend is raw, but has a +good will. Confess, now, for his edification--for he is bound on a +long journey westward, where, they tell me, the maidens grow +comeliest--that looks avail naught with womankind beside a dashing +manner." + +The young gentlewoman laughed, shaking her curls. + +"I'll give him in that case three better counsels yet: first (for by +his habit I see he is on the King's side), let him take a circuit +from this place to the south, for the road between Marlboro' and +Bristol is, they tell me, all held by the rebels; next, let him +avoid all women, even tho' they ask but an innocent cup of water; +and lastly, let him shun thee, unless thy face lie more than thy +tongue. Shall I say more?" + +"Why, no--perhaps better not," replied the old rogue hastily, but +laughing all the same. "That's a clever lass," he added, as the door +shut behind her. + +And, indeed, I was fain, next morning, to agree to this. For, +awaking, I found my friend (who had shar'd a room with me) already +up and gone, and discovered the reason in a sheet of writing pinn'd +to my clothes---- + +"Young Sir,--I convict myself of ingratitude: but habit is hard to +break. So I have made off with the half of thy guineas and thy horse. +The residue, and the letter thou bearest, I leave. 'Tis a good world, +and experience should be bought early. This golden lesson I leave in +return for the guineas. Believe me, 'tis of more worth. Read over +those verses on the windowpane before starting, digest them, and +trust me, thy obliged, + +"Peter, The Jackman. + +"Raise not thy hand so often to thy breast: 'tis a sure index of +hidden valuables." + +Be sure I was wroth enough: nor did the calm interest of the two +snail owners appease me, when at breakfast I told them a part of the +story. But I thought I read sympathy in the low price at which one +of them offer'd me his horse. 'Twas a tall black brute, very strong +in the loins, and I bought him at once out of my shrunken stock of +guineas. At ten o'clock, I set out, not along the Bath road, but +bearing to the south, as the young gentlewoman had counselled. I +began to hold a high opinion of her advice. + +By twelve o'clock I was back at the inn door, clamoring to see the +man that sold me the horse, which had gone dead lame after the +second mile. + +"Dear heart!" cried the landlord; "they are gone, the both, this +hour and a half. But they are coming again within the fortnight; and +I'm expressly to report if you return'd, as they had a wager about +it." + +I turn'd away, pondering. Two days on the road had put me sadly out +of conceit with myself. For mile upon mile I trudged, dragging the +horse after me by the bridle, till my arms felt as if coming from +their sockets. I would have turn'd the brute loose, and thought +myself well quit of him, had it not been for the saddle and bridle +he carried. + + * * * * * + +'Twas about five in the evening, and I still laboring along, when, +over the low hedge to my right, a man on a sorrel mare leap'd easily +as a swallow, and alighted some ten paces or less in front of me; +where he dismounted and stood barring my path. The muzzle of his +pistol was in my face before I could lay hand to my own. + +"Good evening!" said I. + +"You have money about you, doubtless," growled the man curtly, and +in a voice that made me start. For by his voice and figure in the +dusk I knew him for Captain Settle: and in the sorrel with the high +white stocking I recognized the mare, Molly, that poor Anthony +Killigrew had given me almost with his last breath. + +The bully did not know me, having but seen me for an instant at "The +Crown," and then in very different attire. + +"I have but a few poor coins," I answer'd. + +"Then hand 'em over." + +"Be shot if I do!" said I in a passion; and pulling out a handful +from my pocket, I dash'd them down in the road. + +For a moment the Captain took his pistol from my face, and stooped +to clutch at the golden coins as they trickled and ran to right and +left. The next, I had struck out with my right fist, and down he +went staggering. His pistol dropped out of his hand and exploded +between my feet. I rush'd to Molly, caught her bridle, and leap'd on +her back. 'Twas a near thing, for the Captain was rushing toward us. +But at the call of my voice the mare gave a bound and turn'd: and +down the road I was borne, light as a feather. + +A bullet whizz'd past my ear: I heard the Captain's curse mingle +with the report: and then was out of range, and galloping through +the dusk. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +MY ADVENTURE AT THE "THREE CUPS." + + +Secure of pursuit, and full of delight in the mare's easy motion, I +must have travelled a good six miles before the moon rose. In the +frosty sky her rays sparkled cheerfully, and by them I saw on the +holsters the silver demi-bear that I knew to be the crest of the +Killigrews, having the fellow to it engraved on my sword-hilt. So +now I was certain 'twas Molly that I bestrode: and took occasion of +the light to explore the holsters and saddle flap. + +Poor Anthony's pistols were gone--filched, no doubt, by the Captain: +but you may guess my satisfaction, when on thrusting my hand deeper, +I touched a heap of coins, and found them to be gold. + +'Twas certainly a rare bargain I had driven with Captain Settle. For +the five or six gold pieces I scatter'd on the road, I had won close +on thirty guineas, as I counted in the moonlight; not to speak of +this incomparable Molly. And I began to whistle gleefully, and taste +the joke over again and laugh to myself, as we cantered along with +the north wind at our backs. + +All the same, I had no relish for riding thus till morning. For the +night was chill enough to search my very bones after the heat of the +late gallop: and, moreover, I knew nothing of the road, which at +this hour was quite deserted. So that, coming at length to a tall +hill with a black ridge of pine wood standing up against the moon +like a fish's fin, I was glad enough to note below it, and at some +distance from the trees, a window brightly lit; and pushed forward +in hope of entertainment. + +The building was an inn, though a sorry one. Nor, save for the +lighted window, did it wear any grace of hospitality, but thrust out +a bare shoulder upon the road, and a sign that creaked overhead and +look'd for all the world like a gallows. Round this shoulder of the +house, and into the main yard (that turn'd churlishly toward the +hillside), the wind howled like a beast in pain. I climb'd off Molly, +and pressing my hat down on my head, struck a loud rat-tat on the +door. + +Curiously, it opened at once; and I saw a couple of men in the +lighted passage. + +"Heard the mare's heels on the road, Cap--. Hillo! What in the +fiend's name is this?" + +Said I: "If you are he that keeps this house, I want two things of +you--first, a civil tongue, and next a bed." + +"Ye'll get neither, then." + +"Your sign says that you keep an inn." + +"Aye--the 'Three Cups': but we're full." + +"Your manner of speech proves that to be a lie." + +I liked the fellow's voice so little that 'tis odds I would have +re-mounted Molly and ridden away; but at this instant there floated +down the stairs and out through the drink-smelling passage a sound +that made me jump. 'Twas a girl's voice singing---- + + "Hey nonni--nonni--no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is't not fine to laugh and sing + When the hells of death do ring----" + +There was no doubt upon it. The voice belonged to the young +gentlewoman I had met at Hungerford. I turned sharply toward the +landlord, and was met by another surprise. The second man, that till +now had stood well back in the shadow, was peering forward, and +devouring Molly with his gaze. 'Twas hard to read his features, but +then and there I would have wagered my life he was no other than +Luke Settle's comrade, Black Dick. + +My mind was made up. "I'll not ride a step further, to-night," said +I. + +"Then bide there and freeze," answer'd the landlord. + +He was for slamming the door in my face, when the other caught him +by the arm and, pulling him a little back, whisper'd a word or two. +I guess'd what this meant, but resolved not to draw back; and +presently the landlord's voice began again, betwixt surly and +polite---- + +"Have ye too high a stomach to lie on straw?" + +"Oho!" thought I to myself, "then I am to be kept for the mare's +sake, but not admitted to the house:" and said aloud that I could +put up with a straw bed. + +"Because there's the stable loft at your service. As ye hear" (and +in fact the singing still went on, only now I heard a man's voice +joining in the catch) "our house is full of company. But straw is +clean bedding, and the mare I'll help to put in stall." + +"Agreed," I said, "on one condition--that you send out a maid to me +with a cup of mulled sack: for this cold eats me alive." + +To this he consented: and stepping back into a side room with the +other fellow, returned in a minute alone, and carrying a lantern +which, in spite of the moon, was needed to guide a stranger across +that ruinous yard. The flare, as we pick'd our way along, fell for +a moment on an open cart shed and, within, on the gilt panels of a +coach that I recogniz'd. In the stable, that stood at the far end of +the court, I was surprised to find half a dozen horses standing, +ready saddled, and munching their fill of oats. They were ungroom'd, +and one or two in a lather of sweat that on such a night was hard to +account for. But I asked no questions, and my companion vouchsafed +no talk, though twice I caught him regarding me curiously as I +unbridled the mare in the only vacant stall. Not a word pass'd as he +took the lantern off the peg again, and led the way up a ramshackle +ladder to the loft above. He was a fat, lumbering fellow, and made +the old timbers creak. At the top he set down the light, and pointed +to a heap of straw in the corner. + +"Yon's your bed," he growled; and before I could answer, was picking +his way down the ladder again. + +I look'd about, and shiver'd. The eaves of my bedchamber were scarce +on speaking terms with the walls, and through a score of crannies at +least the wind poured and whistled, so that after shifting my truss +of straw a dozen times I found myself still the centre of a whirl of +draught. The candle-flame, too, was puffed this way and that inside +the horn sheath. I was losing patience when I heard footsteps below; +the ladder creak'd, and the red hair and broad shoulders of a +chambermaid rose into view. She carried a steaming mug in her hand, +and mutter'd all the while in no very choice talk. + +The wench had a kind face, tho'; and a pair of eyes that did her +more credit than her tongue. + +"And what's to be my reward for this, I want to know?" she panted +out, resting her left palm on her hip. + +"Why, a groat or two," said I, "when it comes to the reckoning." + +"Lud!" she cried, "what a dull young man!" + +"Dull?" + +"Aye--to make me ask for a kiss in so many words:" and with the back +of her left hand she wiped her mouth for it frankly, while she held +out the mug in her right. + +"Oh!" I said, "I beg your pardon, but my wits are frozen up, I think. +There's two, for interest: and another if you tell me whom your +master entertains to-night, that I must be content with this crib." + +She took the kisses with composure and said--- + +"Well--to begin, there's the gentlefolk that came this afternoon +with their own carriage and heathenish French servant: a cranky old +grandee and a daughter with more airs than a peacock: Sir Something- +or-other Killigew--Lord bless the boy!" + +For I had dropp'd the mug and split the hot sack all about the straw, +where it trickled away with a fragrance reproachfully delicious. + +"Now I beg your pardon a hundred times: but the chill is in my bones +worse than the ague;" and huddling my shoulders up, I counterfeited +a shivering fit with a truthfulness that surpris'd myself. + +"Poor lad!" + +"--And 'tis first hot and then cold all down my spine." + +"There, now!" + +"-And goose flesh and flushes all over my body." + +"Dear heart-and to pass the night in this grave of a place!" + +"--And by morning I shall be in a high fever: and oh! I feel I shall +die of it!" + +"Don't--don't!" The honest girl's eyes were full of tears. "I wonder, +now--" she began: and I waited, eager for her next words. "Sure, +master's at cards in the parlor, and 'll be drunk by midnight. Shalt +pass the night by the kitchen fire, if only thou make no noise." + +"But your mistress--what will she say?" + +"Is in heaven these two years: and out of master's speaking distance +forever. So blow out the light and follow me gently." + +Still feigning to shiver, I follow'd her down the ladder, and +through the stable into the open. The wind by this time had brought +up some heavy clouds, and mass'd them about the moon: but 'twas +freezing hard, nevertheless. The girl took me by the hand to guide +me: for, save from the one bright window in the upper floor, there +was no light at all in the yard. Clearly, she was in dread of her +master's anger, for we stole across like ghosts, and once or twice +she whisper'd a warning when my toe kick'd against a loose cobble. +But just as I seem'd to be walking into a stone wall, she put out +her hand, I heard the click of a latch, and stood in a dark, narrow +passage. + +The passage led to a second door that open'd on a wide, stone-pav'd +kitchen, lit by a cheerful fire, whereon a kettle hissed and bubbled +as the vapor lifted the cover. Close by the chimney corner was a +sort of trap, or buttery hatch, for pushing the hot dishes +conveniently into the parlor on the other side of the wall. Besides +this, for furniture, the room held a broad deal table, an oak +dresser, a linen press, a rack with hams and strings of onions +depending from it, a settle and a chair or two, with (for +decoration) a dozen or so of ballad sheets stuck among the dish +covers along the wall. + +"Sit," whisper'd the girl, "and make no noise, while I brew a rack- +punch for the men-folk in the parlor." She jerked her thumb toward +the buttery hatch, where I had already caught the mur-mer of voices. + +I took up a chair softly, and set it down between the hatch and the +fireplace, so that while warming my knees I could catch any word +spoken more than ordinary loud on the other side of the wall. The +chambermaid stirr'd the fire briskly, and moved about singing as she +fetch'd down bottles and glasses from the dresser---- + + "Lament ye maids an' darters + For constant Sarah Ann, + Who hang'd hersel' in her garters + All for the love o' man, + All for the--" + +She was pausing, bottle in hand, to take the high note: but hush'd +suddenly at the sound of the voices singing in the room upstairs--- + + "Vivre en tout cas + C'est le grand soulas + Des honnetes gens!" + +"That's the foreigners," said the chambermaid, and went on with her +ditty---- + + "All for the love of a souljer + Who christening name was Jan." + +A volley of oaths sounded through the buttery hatch. + +"--And that's the true-born Englishmen, as you may tell by their +speech. 'Tis pretty company the master keeps, these days." + +She was continuing her song, when I held up a finger for silence. In +fact, through the hatch my ear had caught a sentence that set me +listening for more with a still heart. + +"D--n the Captain," the landlord's gruff voice was saying; "I warn'd +'n agen this fancy business when sober, cool-handed work was +toward." + +"Settle's way from his cradle," growl'd another; "and times enough +I've told 'n: 'Cap'n,' says I, 'there's no sense o' proportions +about ye.' A master mind, sirs, but 'a 'll be hang'd for a hen-roost, +so sure as my name's Bill Widdicomb." + +"Ugly words-what a creeping influence has that same mention o' +hanging!" piped a thinner voice. + +"Hold thy complaints, Old Mortification," put in a speaker that I +recogniz'd for Black Dick; "sure the pretty maid upstairs is tender +game. Hark how they sing!" + +And indeed the threatened folk upstairs were singing their catch +very choicely, with a girl's clear voice to lead them--- + + "Comment dit papa + --Margoton, ma mie?" + +"Heathen language, to be sure," said the thin voice again, as the +chorus ceased: "thinks I to mysel' 'they be but Papisters,' an' my +doubting mind is mightily reconcil'd to manslaughter." + +"I don't like beginning 'ithout the Cap'n," observed Black Dick: +"though I doubt something has miscarried. Else, how did that young +spark ride in upon the mare?" + +"An' that's what thy question should ha' been, Dick, with a pistol +to his skull." + +"He'll keep till the morrow." + +"We'll give Settle half-an-hour more," said the landlord: "Mary!" he +push'd open the hatch, so that I had barely time to duck my head out +of view, "fetch in the punch, girl. How did'st leave the young man +i' the loft?' + +"Asleep, or nearly," answer'd Mary-- + + "Who hang'd hersel' in her gar-ters, + All for the love o' man--" + +"--Anon, anon, master: wait only till I get the kettle on the boil." + +The hatch was slipp'd to again. I stood up and made a step toward +the girl. + +"How many are they?" I ask'd, jerking a finger in the direction of +the parlor. + +"A dozen all but one." + +"Where is the foreign guests' room?" + +"Left hand, on the first landing." + +"The staircase?" + +"Just outside the door." + +"Then sing--go on singing for your life." + +"But--" + +"Sing!" + +"Dear heart, they'll murder thee! Oh! for pity's sake, let go my +wrist--- + + "'Lament, ye maids an' darters--'" + +I stole to the door and peep'd out. A lantern hung in the passage, +and showed the staircase directly in front of me. I stay'd for a +moment to pull off my boots, and, holding them in my left hand, +crept up the stairs. In the kitchen, the girl was singing and +clattering the glasses together. Behind the door, at the head of the +stairs, I heard voices talking. I slipp'd on my boots again and +tapp'd on the panel. + +"Come in!" + +Let me try to describe that on which my eyes rested as I push'd the +door wide. 'Twas a long room, wainscoted half up the wall in some +dark wood, and in daytime lit by one window only, which now was hung +with red curtains. By the fireplace, where a brisk wood fire was +crackling, lean'd the young gentlewoman I had met at Hungerford, who, +as she now turn'd her eyes upon me, ceas'd fingering the guitar or +mandoline that she held against her waist, and raised her pretty +head not without curiosity. + +But 'twas on the table in the centre of the chamber that my gaze +settled; and on two men beside it, of whom I must speak more +particularly. + +The elder, who sat in a high-back'd chair, was a little, frail, +deform'd gentleman of about fifty, dress'd very richly in dark +velvet and furs, and wore on his head a velvet skullcap, round which +his white hair stuck up like a ferret's. But the oddest thing about +him was a complexion that any maid of sixteen would give her ears +for--of a pink and white so transparent that it seem'd a soft light +must be glowing beneath his skin. On either cheek bone this delicate +coloring centred in a deeper flush. This is as much as I need say +about his appearance, except that his eyes were very bright and +sharp, and his chin stuck out like a vicious mule's. + +The table before him was cover'd with bottles and flasks, in the +middle of which stood a silver lamp burning, and over it a silver +saucepan that sent up a rare fragrance as the liquid within it +simmer'd and bubbled. So eager was the old gentleman in watching the +progress of his mixture, that he merely glanc'd up at my entrance, +and then, holding up a hand for silence, turn'd his eyes on the +saucepan again. + +The second man was the broad-shouldered lackey I had seen riding +behind the coach: and now stood over the saucepan with a twisted +flask in his hand, from which he pour'd a red syrup very gingerly, +drop by drop, with the tail of his eye turn'd on his master's face, +that he might know when to cease. + +Now it may be that my entrance upset this experiment in strong +drinks. At any rate, I had scarce come to a stand about three paces +inside the door, when the little old gentleman bounces up in a fury, +kicks over his chair, hurls the nearest bottles to right and left, +and sends the silver saucepan spinning across the table to my very +feet, where it scalded me clean through the boot, and made me hop +for pain. + +"Spoil'd--spoil'd!" he scream'd: "drench'd in filthy liquor, when it +should have breath'd but a taste!" + +And, to my amazement, he sprang on the strapping servant like a +wild-cat, and began to beat, cuff, and belabor him with all the +strength of his puny limbs. + +'Twas like a scene out of Bedlam. Yet all the while the girl lean'd +quietly against the mantelshelf, and softly touched the strings of +her instrument; while the servant took the rain of blows and slaps +as though 'twere a summer shower, grinning all over his face, and +making no resistance at all. + +Then, as I stood dumb with perplexity, the old gentleman let go his +hold of the fellow's hair, and, dropping on the floor, began to roll +about in a fit of coughing, the like of which no man can imagine. +'Twas hideous. He bark'd, and writhed, and bark'd again, till the +disorder seem'd to search and rack every innermost inch of his small +frame. And in the intervals of coughing his exclamations were +terrible to listen to. + +"He's dying!" I cried; and ran forward to help. + +The servant pick'd up the chair, and together we set him in it. By +degrees the violence of the cough abated, and he lay back, livid in +the face, with his eyes closed, and his hands clutching the knobs of +the chair. I turn'd to the girl. She had neither spoken nor stirr'd, +but now came forward, and calmly ask'd my business. + +"I think," said I, "that your name is Killigrew?" + +"I am Delia Killigrew, and this is my father, Sir Deakin." + +"Now on his way to visit his estates in Cornwall?" + +She nodded. + +"Then I have to warn you that your lives are in danger." And, gently +as possible, I told her what I had seen and heard downstairs. In the +middle of my tale, the servant stepp'd to the door, and return'd +quietly. There was no lock on the inside. After a minute he went +across, and drew the red curtains. The window had a grating within, +of iron bars as thick as a man's thumb, strongly clamp'd in the +stonework, and not four inches apart. Clearly, he was a man of few +words; for, returning, he merely pull'd out his sword, and waited +for the end of my tale. + +The girl, also, did not interrupt me, but listen'd in silence. As I +ceas'd, she said---- + +"Is this all you know?" + +"No," answer'd I, "it is not. But the rest I promise to tell you if +we escape from this place alive. Will this content you?" + +She turn'd to the servant, who nodded. Whereupon she held out her +hand very cordially. + +"Sir, listen: we are travelers bound for Cornwall, as you know, and +have some small possessions, that will poorly reward the greed of +these violent men. Nevertheless, we should be hurrying on our +journey did we not await my brother Anthony, who was to have ridden +from Oxford to join us here, but has been delayed, doubtless on the +King's business----" + +She broke off, as I started: for below I heard the main door open, +and Captain Settle's voice in the passage. The arch villain had +return'd. + +"Mistress Delia," I said hurriedly, "the twelfth man has enter'd the +house, and unless we consider our plans at once, all's up with us." + +"Tush!" said the old gentleman in the chair, who (it seems) had +heard all, and now sat up brisk as ever. "I, for my part shall mix +another glass, and leave it all to Jacques. Come, sit by me, sir, +and you shall see some pretty play. Why, Jacques is the neatest +rogue with a small sword in all France!" + +"Sir," I put in, "they are a round dozen in all, and your life at +present is not worth a penny's purchase." + +"That's a lie! 'Tis worth this bowl before me, that, with or without +you, I mean to empty. What a fool thing is youth! Sir, you must be +a dying man like myself to taste life properly." And, as I am a +truthful man, he struck up quavering merrily-- + + "Hey, nonni--nonni--no! + Men are fools that wish to die! + Is't not fine to laugh and sing + When the bells of death do ring? + Is't not fine to drown in wine, + And turn upon the toe, + And sing, hey--nonni--no? + Hey, nonni--nonni--" + +"--Come and sit, sir, nor spoil sport. You are too raw, I'll wager, +to be of any help; and boggling I detest." + +"Indeed, sir," I broke in, now thoroughly anger'd, "I can use the +small sword as well as another." + +"Tush! Try him, Jacques." + +Jacques, still wearing a stolid face, brought his weapon to the +guard. Stung to the quick, I wheel'd round, and made a lunge or two, +that he put aside as easily as though I were a babe. And then--I +know not how it happened, but my sword slipp'd like ice out of my +grasp, and went flying across the room. Jacques, sedately as on a +matter of business, stepp'd to pick it up, while the old gentleman +chuckled. + +I was hot and asham'd, and a score of bitter words sprang to my +tongue-tip, when the Frenchman, as he rose from stooping, caught my +eye, and beckon'd me across to him. + +He was white as death, and pointed to the hilt of my sword and the +demi-bear engrav'd thereon. + +"He is dead," I whisper'd: "hush!--turn your face aside--killed by +those same dogs that are now below." + +I heard a sob in the true fellow's throat. But on the instant it was +drown'd by the sound of a door opening and the tramp of feet on the +stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE FLIGHT IN THE PINE WOOD. + + +By the sound of their steps I guess'd one or two of these dozen +rascals to be pretty far gone in drink, and afterward found this to +be the case. I look'd round. Sir Deakin had pick'd up the lamp and +was mixing his bowl of punch, humming to himself without the least +concern---- + + "Vivre en tout cas + C'est le grand soulas"-- + +with a glance at his daughter's face, that was white to the lips, +but firmly set. + +"Hand me the nutmeg yonder," he said, and then, "why, daughter, +what's this?--a trembling hand?" + +And all the while the footsteps were coming up. + +There was a loud knock on the door. + +"Come in!" call'd Sir Deakin. + +At this, Jacques, who stood ready for battle by the entrance, +wheeled round, shot a look at his master, and dropping his point, +made a sign to me to do the same. The door was thrust rudely open, +and Captain Settle, his hat cock'd over one eye, and sham +drunkenness in his gait, lurched into the room, with the whole +villainous crew behind him, huddled on the threshold. Jacques and +I stepp'd quietly back, so as to cover the girl. + +[Illustration: The door was thrust rudely open.--Page 88.] + +"Would you mind waiting a moment?" inquir'd Sir Deakin, without +looking up, but rubbing the nutmeg calmly up and down the grater: "a +fraction too much, and the whole punch will be spoil'd." + +It took the Captain aback, and he came to a stand, eyeing us, who +look'd back at him without saying a word. And this discomposed him +still further. + +There was a minute during which the two parties could hear each +other's breathing. Sir Deakin set down the nutmeg, wiped his thin +white fingers on a napkin, and address'd the Captain sweetly-- + +"Before asking your business, sir, I would beg you and your company +to taste this liquor, which, in the court of France"--the old +gentleman took a sip from the mixing ladle--"has had the extreme +honor to be pronounced divine." He smack'd his lips, and rising to +his feet, let his right hand rest on the silver foot of the lamp as +he bowed to the Captain. + +Captain Settle's bravado was plainly oozing away before this polite +audacity: and seeing Sir Deakin taste the punch, he pull'd off his +cap in a shamefaced manner and sat down by the table with a word of +thanks. + +"Come in, sirs--come in!" call'd the old gentleman; "and follow your +friend's example. 'Twill be a compliment to make me mix another bowl +when this is finish'd." He stepped around the table to welcome them, +still resting his hand on the lamp, as if for steadiness. I saw his +eye twinkle as they shuffled in and stood around the chair where the +Captain was seated. + +"Jacques, bring glasses from the cupboard yonder! And, Delia, fetch +up some chairs for our guests--no, sirs, pray do not move!" + +He had waved his hand lightly to the door as he turned to us: and in +an instant the intention as well as the bright success of this +comedy flash'd upon me. There was now no one between us and the +stairs, and as for Sir Deakin himself, he had already taken the step +of putting the table's width between him and his guests. + +I touch'd the girl's arm, and we made as if to fetch a couple of +chairs that stood against the wainscot by the door. As we did so, +Sir Deakin push'd the punch bowl forward under the Captain's nose. + +"Smell, sir," he cried airily, "and report to your friends on the +foretaste." + +Settle's nose hung over the steaming compound. With a swift pass of +the hand, the old gentleman caught up the lamp and had shaken a drop +of burning oil into the bowl. A great blaze leap'd to the ceiling. +There was a howl--a scream of pain; and as I push'd Mistress Delia +through the doorway and out to the head of the stairs, I caught a +backward glimpse of Sir Deakin rushing after us, with one of the +stoutest among the robbers at his heels. + +"Downstairs, for your life!" I whisper'd to the girl, and turning, +as her father tumbled past me, let his pursuer run on my sword, as +on a spit. At the same instant, another blade pass'd through the +fellow transversely, and Jacques stood beside me, with his back to +the lintel. + +As we pull'd our swords out and the man dropp'd, I had a brief view +into the room, where now the blazing liquid ran off the table in a +stream. Settle, stamping with agony, had his palms press'd against +his scorch'd eyelids. The fat landlord, in trying to beat out the +flames, had increased them by upsetting two bottles of aqua vitae, +and was dancing about with three fingers in his mouth. The rest +stood for the most part dumbfounder'd: but Black Dick had his pistol +lifted. + +Jacques and I sprang out for the landing and round the doorway. +Between the flash and the report I felt a sudden scrape, as of a +red-hot wire, across my left thigh and just above the knee. + +"Tenez, camarade," said Jacques' voice in my ear; "a moi la porte--a +vous le maitre, la-bas:" and he pointed down the staircase, where, +by the glare of the conflagration that beat past us, I saw the +figures of Sir Deakin and his daughter standing. + +"But how can you keep the door against a dozen?" + +The Frenchman shrugg'd his shoulders with a smile--- + +"Mais-comme ca!" + +For at this moment came a rush of footsteps within the room. I saw +a fat paunch thrusting past us, a quiet pass of steel, and the +landlord was wallowing on his face across the threshold. Jacques' +teeth snapp'd together as he stood ready for another victim: and as +the fellows within the room tumbled back, he motion'd me to leave +him. + +I sprang from his side, and catching the rail of the staircase, +reach'd the foot in a couple of bounds. + +"Hurry!" I cried, and caught the old baronet by the hand. His +daughter took the other, and between us we hurried him across the +passage for the kitchen door. + +Within, the chambermaid was on her knees by the settle, her face and +apron of the same hue. I saw she was incapable of helping, and +hasten'd across the stone floor, and out toward the back entrance. + +A stream of icy wind blew in our faces as we stepp'd over the +threshold. The girl and I bent our heads to it, and stumbling, +tripping, and panting, pull'd Sir Deakin with us out into the cold +air. + +The yard was no longer dark. In the room above someone had push'd +the casement open, letting in the wind: and by this 'twas very +evident the room was on fire. Indeed, the curtains had caught, and +as we ran, a pennon of flame shot out over our heads, licking the +thatch. In the glare of it the outbuildings and the yard gate stood +clearly out from the night. I heard the trampling of feet, the sound +of Settle's voice shouting an order, and then a dismal yell and +clash of steel as we flung open the gate. + +"Jacques!" scream'd the old gentleman: "my poor Jacques! Those dogs +will mangle him with their cut and thrust--" + +'Twas very singular and sad, but as if in answer to Sir Deakin's cry, +we heard the brave fellow's voice; and a famous shout it must have +been to reach us over the roaring of the flames-- + +"Mon maitre-mon maitre!" he call'd twice, and then "Sauve toi!" in +a fainter voice, yet clear. And after that only a racket of shouts +and outcries reach'd us. Without doubt the villains had overpower'd +and slain this brave servant. In spite of our peril (for they would +be after us at once),'twas all we could do to drag the old man from +the gate and up the road: and as he went he wept like a child. + +After about fifty yards, we turn'd in at a gate, and began to cut +across a field: for I hop'd thus not only to baffle pursuit for a +while, but also to gain the wood that we saw dimly ahead. It reach'd +to the top of the hill, and I knew not how far beyond: and as I was +reflecting that there lay our chance of safety, I heard the inn door +below burst open with loud cries, and the sound of footsteps running +up the road after us. + +Moreover, to complete our fix, the clouds that had been scurrying +across the moon's face, now for a minute left a clear interval of +sky about her: so that right in our course there lay a great patch +brilliantly lit, whereon our figures could be spied at once by +anyone glancing into the field. Also, it grew evident that Sir +Deakin's late agility was but a short and sudden triumph of will +over body: for his poor crooked legs began to trail and lag sadly. +So turning sharp about, we struck for the hedge's shadow, and there +pull'd him down in a dry ditch, and lay with a hand on his mouth to +stifle his ejaculations, while we ourselves held our breathing. + +The runners came up the road, pausing for a moment by the gate. I +heard it creak, and saw two or three dark forms enter the field--the +remainder tearing on up the road with a great clatter of boots. + +"Alas, my poor Jacques!" moan'd Sir Deakin: "and to be butcher'd so, +that never in his days kill'd a man but as if he lov'd him!" + +"Sir," I whisper'd harshly, "if you keep this noise I must gag you." +And with that he was silent for awhile. + +There was a thick tangle of brambles in the ditch where we lay: and +to this we owe our lives. For one of the men, coming our way, pass'd +within two yards of us, with the flat of his sword beating the +growth over our heads. + +"Reu-ben! Reuben Gedges!" call'd a voice by the gate. + +The fellow turn'd; and peeping between the bramble twigs, I saw the +moonlight glittering on his blade. A narrow, light-hair'd man he was, +with a weak chin: and since then I have paid him out for the fright +he gave us. + +"What's the coil?" he shouted back. + +"The stable roofs ablaze--for the Lord's sake come and save the +hosses!" + +He strode back, and in a minute the field was clear. Creeping out +with caution, I grew aware of two mournful facts: first, that the +stable was indeed afire, as I perceiv'd by standing on tiptoe and +looking over the hedge; and second, that my knee was hurt by Black +Dick's bullet. The muscles had stiffened while we were crouching, +and now pain'd me badly. Yet I kept it to myself as we started off +again to run. + +But at the stile that, at the top of the field, led into the woods, +I pull'd up-- + +"Sorry I am to say it, but you must go on without me." + +"O--oh!" cried the girl. + +"'Tis for your safety. See, I leave a trail of blood behind me, so +that when day rises they will track us easily." + +And sure enough, even by the moon, 'twas easy to trace the dark +spots on the grass and earth beside the stile. My left boot, too, +was full of blood. + +She was silent for awhile. Down in the valley we could hear the +screams of the poor horses. The light of the flames lit up the pine +trunks about us to a bright scarlet. + +"Sir, you hold our gratitude cheaply." + +She unwound the kerchief from her neck, and making me sit on the +stile, bound up my knee skillfully, twisting a short stick in the +bandage to stop the bleeding. + +I thank'd her, and we hurried on into the depths of the wood, +treading silently on the deep carpet of pine needles. The ground +rose steeply all the way: and all the way, tho' the light grew +feebler, the roar and outcries in the valley follow'd us. + +Toward the hill's summit the trees were sparser. Looking upward, I +saw that the sky had grown thickly overcast. We cross'd the ridge, +and after a minute or so were in thick cover again. + +'Twas here that Sir Deakin's strength gave out. Almost without +warning, he sank down between our hands, and in a second was taken +with that hateful cough, that once already this night had frightened +me for his life. + +"Ah, ah!" he groaned, between the spasms, "I'm not fit--I'm not fit +for it!" and was taken again, and roll'd about barking, so that I +fear'd the sound would bring all Settle's gang on our heels. "I'm +not fit for it!" he repeated, as the cough left him, and he lay back +helpless, among the pine needles. + +Now, I understood his words to bear on his unfitness for death, and +judg'd them very decent and properly spoken: and took occasion to +hint this in my attempts to console him. + +"Why, bless the boy!" he cried, sitting up and staring, "for what +d'ye think I'm unsuited?" + +"Why, to die, sir--to be sure!" + +"Holy Mother!" he regarded me with surprise, contempt and pity, all +together: "was ever such a dunderhead! If ever man were fit to die, +I am he--and that's just my reasonable complaint. Heart alive! 'tis +unfit to _live_ I am, tied to this absurd body!" + +I suppose my attitude express'd my lack of comprehension, for he +lifted a finger and went on-- + +"Tell me--can you eat beef, and drink beer, and enjoy them?" + +"Why, yes." + +"And fight--hey? and kiss a pretty girl, and be glad you've done it? +Dear, dear, how I do hate a fool and a fool's pity! Lift me up and +carry me a step. This night's work has kill'd me: I feel it in my +lungs. 'Tis a pity, too; for I was just beginning to enjoy it." + +I lifted him as I would a babe, and off we set again, my teeth +shutting tight on the pain of my hurt. And presently, coming to a +little dingle, about half a mile down the hillside, well hid with +dead bracken and blackberry bushes, I consulted with the girl. The +place was well shelter'd from the wind that rock'd the treetops, and +I fear'd to go much further, for we might come on open country at +any moment and so double our peril. It seem'd best, therefore, to +lay the old gentleman snugly in the bottom of this dingle and wait +for day. And with my buff-coat, and a heap of dried leaves, I made +him fairly easy, reserving my cloak to wrap about Mistress Delia's +fair neck and shoulders. But against this at first she protested. + +"For how are you to manage?" she ask'd. + +"I shall tramp up and down, and keep watch," answer'd I, strewing a +couch for her beside her father: "and 'tis but fair exchange for the +kerchief you gave me from your own throat." + +At last I persuaded her, and she crept close to her father, and +under the edge of the buff-coat for warmth. There was abundance of +dry bracken in the dingle, and with this and some handfuls of pine +needles, I cover'd them over, and left them to find what sleep they +might. + +For two hours and more after this, I hobbled to and fro near them, +as well as my wound would allow, looking up at the sky through the +pine tops, and listening to the sobbing of the wind. Now and then I +would swing my arms for warmth, and breathe on my fingers, that were +sorely benumb'd; and all the while kept my ears on the alert, but +heard nothing. + +'Twas, as I said, something over two hours after, that I felt a soft +cold touch, and then another, like kisses on my forehead. I put up +my hand, and looked up again at the sky. As I did so, the girl gave +a long sigh, and awoke from her doze--- + +"Sure, I must have dropp'd asleep," she said, opening her eyes, and +spying my shadow above her: "has aught happened?" + +"Aye," replied I, "something is happening that will wipe out our +traces and my bloody track." + +"And what is that?" + +"Snow: see, 'tis falling fast." + +She bent over, and listen'd to her father's breathing. + +"'Twill kill him," she said simply. + +I pull'd some more fronds of the bracken to cover them both. She +thank'd me, and offer'd to relieve me in my watch: which I refus'd. +And indeed, by lying down I should have caught my death, very likely. + +The big flakes drifted down between the pines: till, as the moon +paled, the ground about me was carpeted all in white, with the +foliage black as ink above it. Time after time, as I tramp'd to and +fro, I paus'd to brush the fresh-forming heap from the sleepers' +coverlet, and shake it gently from the tresses of the girl's hair. +The old man's face was covered completely by the buff-coat: but his +breathing was calm and regular as any child's. + +Day dawn'd. Awaking Mistress Delia, I ask'd her to keep watch for a +time, while I went off to explore. She crept out from her bed with +a little shiver of disgust. + +"Run about," I advis'd, "and keep the blood stirring." + +She nodded: and looking back, as I strode down the hill, I saw her +moving about quickly, swinging her arms, and only pausing to wave a +hand to me for goodspeed. + +* * * * * + +'Twas an hour before I return'd: and plenty I had to tell. Only at +the entrance to the dingle the words failed from off my tongue. The +old gentleman lay as he had lain throughout the night. But the +bracken had been toss'd aside, and the girl was kneeling over him. +I drew near, my step not arousing her. Sir Deakin's face was pale and +calm: but on the snow that had gather'd by his head, lay a red +streak of blood. 'Twas from his lungs, and he was quite dead. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +I FIND A COMRADE. + +But I must go back a little and tell you what befell in my +expedition. + +I had scarce trudged out of sight of my friends, down the hill, when +it struck me that my footprints in the snow were in the last degree +dangerous to them, and might lead Settle and his crew straight to +the dingle. Here was a fix. I stood for some minutes nonpluss'd, +when above the stillness of the wood (for the wind had dropp'd) a +faint sound as of running water caught my ear, and help'd me to an +idea. + +The sound seem'd to come from my left. Turning aside I made across +the hill toward it, and after two hundred paces or so came on a tiny +brook, not two feet across, that gush'd down the slope with a quite +considerable chatter and impatience. The bed of it was mainly earth, +with here and there a large stone or root to catch the toe: so that, +as I stepped into the water and began to thread my way down between +the banks of snow, 'twas necessary to look carefully to my steps. + +Here and there the brook fetch'd a leap down a sharper declivity, or +shot over a hanging stone: but, save for the wetting I took in these +places, my progress was easy enough. I must have waded in this +manner for half a mile, keeping the least possible noise, when at an +angle ahead I spied a clearing among the pines, and to the right of +the stream, on the very verge, a hut of logs standing, with a wood +rick behind it. + +'Twas a low building, but somewhat long, and I guess'd it to be, in +summer time, a habitation for the woodcutters. But what surpris'd me +was to hear a dull, moaning noise, very regular and disquieting, +that sounded from the interior of the hut. I listen'd, and hit on +the explication. 'Twas the sound of snoring. + +Drawing nearer with caution, I noticed, in that end of the hut which +stood over the stream, a gap, or window hole. The sound issued +through this like the whirring of a dozen looms. "He must be an +astonishing fellow," thought I, "that can snore in this fashion. +I'll have a peep before I wake him." I waded down till I stood under +the sill, put both hands upon it, and pulling myself up quiet as a +mouse, stuck my face in at the window--and then very nearly sat back +into the brook for fright. + +For I had gazed straight down into the upturn'd faces of Captain +Settle and his gang. + +How long I stood there, with the water rushing past my ankles and my +body turning from cold to hot, and back again, I cannot tell you. +But 'twas until, hearing no pause in the sleepers' chorus, I found +courage for another peep: and that must have been some time. + +There were but six rascals beside the Captain (so that Jacques must +have died hard, thought I), and such a raffle of arms and legs and +swollen up-turn'd faces as they made I defy you to picture. For they +were pack'd close as herrings; and the hut was fill'd up with their +horses, ready saddled, and rubbing shoulder to loin, so narrow was +the room. It needed the open window to give them air: and even so, +'twas not over-fresh inside. + +I had no mind to stay: but before leaving found myself in the way of +playing these villains a pretty trick. To right and left of the +window, above their heads, extended two rude shelves that now were +heap'd with what I conjectured to be the spoils of the larder of the +"Three Cups." Holding my breath and thrusting my head and shoulders +into the room, I ran my hand along and was quickly possess'd of a +boil'd ham, two capons, a loaf, the half of a cold pie, and a basket +holding three dozen eggs. All these prizes I filched one by one, +with infinite caution. + +I was gently pulling the basket through the window hole, when I +heard one of the crew yawn and stretch himself in his sleep. So, +determining to risk no more, I quietly pack'd the basket, slung it +on my right arm, and with the ham grasp'd by the knuckle in my left, +made my way up the stream. + +'Twas thus laden that I enter'd the dingle, and came on the sad +sight therein. I set down the ham as a thing to be asham'd of, and +bar'd my head. The girl lifted her face, and turning, all white and +tragical, saw me. + +"My father is dead, sir." + +I stoop'd and pil'd a heap of fresh snow over the blood stains. +There was no intent in this but to hide the pity that chok'd me. She +had still to hear about her brother, Anthony. Turning, as by a +sudden thought, I took her hand. She look'd into my eyes, and her +own filled with tears. 'Twas the human touch that loosen'd their +flow, I think: and sinking down again beside her father, she wept +her fill. + +"Mistress Killigrew," I said, as soon as the first violence of her +tears was abated, "I have still some news that is ill hearing. Your +enemies are encamp'd in the woods, about a half mile below this"-- +and with that I told my story. + +"They have done their worst, sir." + +"No." + +She looked at me with a question on her lip. + +Said I, "you must believe me yet a short while without questioning." + +Considering for a moment, she nodded. "You have a right, sir, to be +trusted, tho' I know not so much as your name. Then we must stay +close in hiding?" she added very sensibly, tho' with the last word +her voice trail'd off, and she began again to weep. + +But in time, having cover'd the dead baronet's body with sprays of +the wither'd bracken, I drew her to a little distance and prevail'd +on her to nibble a crust of the loaf. Now, all this while, it must +be remembered, I was in my shirt sleeves, and the weather bitter +cold. Which at length her sorrow allow'd her to notice. + +"Why, you are shivering, sore!" she said, and running, drew my +buff-coat from her father's body, and held it out to me. + +"Indeed," I answer'd, "I was thinking of another expedition to warm +my blood." And promising to be back in half an hour, I follow'd down +my former tracks toward the stream. + +Within twenty minutes I was back, running and well-nigh shouting +with joy. + +"Come!" I cried to her, "come and see for yourself!" + +What had happen'd was this:--Wading cautiously down the brook, I had +cause suddenly to prick up my ears and come to a halt. 'Twas the +muffled tramp of hoofs that I heard, and creeping a bit further, I +caught a glimpse, beyond the hut, of a horse and rider disappearing +down the woods. He was the last of the party, as I guess'd from the +sound of voices and jingling of bits further down the slope. +Advancing on the hut with more boldness, I found it deserted. I +scrambled up on the bank and round to the entrance. The snow before +it was trampled and sullied by the footmarks of men and horses: and +as I noted this, came Settle's voice calling up the slope---- + +"Jerry--Jerry Toy!" + +A nearer voice hail'd in answer. + +"Where's Reuben?" + +"Coming, Captain--close behind!" + +"Curse him for a loitering idiot! We've wasted time enough, as +'tis," called back the Captain. "How in thunder is a man to find the +road out of this cursed wood?" + +"Straight on, Cap'n--you can't miss it," shouted another voice, not +two gunshots below. + +A volcano of oaths pour'd up from Settle. I did not wait for the end +of them: but ran back for Mistress Delia. + +Together we descended to the hut. By this time the voices had faded +away in distance. Yet to make sure that the rascals had really +departed, we follow'd their tracks for some way, beside the stream; +and suddenly came to a halt with cries of joyful surprise. + +The brook had led us to a point where, over a stony fall veil'd with +brown bracken, it plunged into a narrow ravine. Standing on the lip, +where the water took a smoother glide before leaping, we saw the +line of the ravine mark'd by a rift in the pines, and through this +a slice of the country that lay below. 'Twas a level plain, well +watered, and dotted here and there with houses. A range of wooded +hills clos'd the view, and toward them a broad road wound gently, +till the eye lost it at their base. All this was plain enough, in +spite of the snow that cover'd the landscape. For the sun had burst +out above, and the few flakes that still fell looked black against +his brilliance and the dazzling country below. + +But what caus'd our joy was to see, along the road, a small +cavalcade moving away from us, with many bright glances of light and +color, as their steel caps and sashes took the sunshine--a pretty +sight, and the prettier because it meant our present deliverance. + +The girl beside me gave a cry of delight, then sigh'd; and after a +minute began to walk back toward the hut: where I left her, and ran +up hill for the basket and ham. On my return, I found her examining +a heap of rusty tools that, it seem'd, she had found on a shelf of +the building. 'Twas no light help to the good fellowship that +afterward united us, that from the first I could read her thoughts +often without words; and for this reason, that her eyes were as +candid as the noonday. + +So now I answer'd her aloud--- + +"This afternoon we may venture down to the plain, where no doubt we +shall find a clergyman to sell us a patch of holy ground--" + +"Holy ground?" She look'd at me awhile and shook her head. "I am not +of your religion," she said. + +"And your father?" + +"I think no man ever discovered my father's religion. Perhaps there +was none to discover: but he was no bad father" she steadied her +voice and went on:--"He would prefer the hillside to your 'holy +ground.'" + +So, an hour later, I delv'd his grave in the frosty earth, close by +the spot where he lay. Somehow, I shiver'd all the while, and had a +cruel shooting pain in my wound that was like to have mastered me +before the task was ended. But I managed to lower the body softly +into the hole and to cover it reverently from sight: and afterward +stood leaning on my spade and feeling very light in the head, while +the girl knelt and pray'd for her father's soul. + +And the picture of her as she knelt is the last I remember, till I +open'd my eyes, and was amazed to find myself on my back, and +staring up at darkness. + +"What has happen'd?" + +"I think you are very ill," said a voice: "can you lean on me, and +reach the hut?" + +"Why, yes: that is, I think so. Why is everything dark?" + +"The sun has been down for hours. You have been in a swoon first, +and then talk'd--oh, such nonsense! Shame on me, to let you catch +this chill!" + +She help'd me to my feet and steadied me: and how we reached the hut +I cannot tell you. It took more than one weary hour, as I now know; +but, at the time, hours and minutes were one to me. + +In that hut I lay four nights and four days, between ague fit and +fever. And that is all the account I can give of the time, save that, +on the second day, the girl left me alone in the hut and descended +to the plain, where, after asking at many cottages for a physician, +she was forced to be content with an old woman reputed to be +amazingly well skill'd in herbs and medicines; whom, after a day's +trial, she turn'd out of doors. On the fourth day, fearing for my +life, she made another descent, and coming to a wayside tavern, +purchased a pint of aqua vitae, carried it back, and mix'd a potion +that threw me into a profuse sweat. The same evening I sat up, a +sound man. + +Indeed, so thoroughly was I recover'd that, waking early next +morning, and finding my sweet nurse asleep from sheer weariness, in +a corner of the hut, I stagger'd up from my bed of dried bracken, +and out into the pure air. Rare it was to stand and drink it in like +wine. A footstep arous'd me. 'Twas Mistress Delia: and turning, I +held out my hand. + +"Now this is famous," said she: "a day or two will see you as good +a man as ever." + +"A day or two? To-morrow at latest, I shall make trial to start." I +noted a sudden change on her face, and added: "Indeed, you must hear +my reasons before setting me down for an ingrate;" and told her of +the King's letter that I carried. "I hoped that for a while our ways +might lie together," said I; and broke off, for she was looking me +earnestly in the face. + +"Sir, as you know, my brother Anthony was to have met me--nay, for +pity's sake, turn not your face away! I have guess'd--the sword you +carry--I mark'd it. Sir, be merciful, and tell me!" + +I led her a little aside to the foot of a tall pine; and there, tho' +it rung my heart, told her all; and left her to wrestle with this +final sorrow. She was so tender a thing to be stricken thus, that I +who had dealt the blow crept back to the hut, covering my eyes. In +an hour's time I look'd out. She was gone. + +At nightfall she return'd, white with grief and fatigue; yet I was +glad to see her eyes red and swol'n with weeping. Throughout our +supper she kept silence; but when 'twas over, look'd up and spoke in +a steady tone---- + +"Sir, I have a favor to ask, and must risk being held importunate--" + +"From you to me," I put in, "all talk of favors had best be +dropp'd." + +"No--listen. If ever it befel you to lose father or mother or dearly +loved friend, you will know how the anguish stuns--Oh sir! to-day +the sun seem'd fallen out of heaven, and I a blind creature left +groping in the void. Indeed, sir, 'tis no wonder: I had a father, +brother, and servant ready to die for me--three hearts to love and +lean on: and to-day they are gone." + +I would have spoken, but she held up a hand. + +"Now when you spoke of Anthony--a dear lad!--I lay for some time +dazed with grief. By little and little, as the truth grew plainer, +the pain grew also past bearing. I stood up and stagger'd into the +woods to escape it. I went fast and straight, heeding nothing, for +at first my senses were all confus'd: but in a while the walking +clear'd my wits, and I could think: and thinking, I could weep: and +having wept, could fortify my heart. Here is the upshot, sir--tho' +'tis held immodest for a maid to ask even far less of a man. We are +both bound for Cornwall--you on an honorable mission, I for my +father's estate of Gleys, wherefrom (as your tale proves) some +unseen hands are thrusting me. Alike we carry our lives in our hands. +You must go forward: I may not go back. For from a King who cannot +right his own affairs there is little hope; and in Cornwall I have +surer friends than he. Therefore take me, sir--take me for a +comrade! Am I sad? Do you fear a weary journey? I will smile--laugh +--sing--put sorrow behind me. I will contrive a thousand ways to +cheat the milestones. At the first hint of tears, discard me, and go +your way with no prick of conscience. Only try me--oh, the shame of +speaking thus!" + +Her voice had grown more rapid toward the close: and now, breaking +off, she put both hands to cover her face, that was hot with blushes. +I went over and took them in mine: + +"You have made me the blithest man alive," said I. + +She drew back a pace with a frighten'd look, and would have pull'd +her hands away. + +"Because," I went on quickly, "you have paid me this high compliment, +to trust me. Proud was I to listen to you; and merrily will the +miles pass with you for comrade. And so I say--Mistress Killigrew, +take me for your servant." + +To my extreme discomposure, as I dropp'd her hands, her eyes were +twinkling with laughter. + +"Dear now; I see a dull prospect ahead if we use these long titles!" + +"But---" + +"Indeed, sir, please yourself. Only as I intend to call you 'Jack' +perhaps 'Delia' will be more of a piece than 'Mistress Killigrew.'" +She dropp'd me a mock curtsey. "And now, Jack, be a good boy, and +hitch me this quilt across the hut. I bought it yesterday at a +cottage below here----" + +She ended the sentence with the prettiest blush imaginable; and so, +having fix'd her screen, we shook hands on our comradeship, and +wish'd each other good night. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +I LOSE THE KING'S LETTER; AND AM CARRIED TO BRISTOL. + + +Almost before daylight we were afoot, and the first ray of cold +sunshine found us stepping from the woods into the plain, where now +the snow was vanished and a glistening coat of rime spread over all +things. Down here the pines gave way to bare elms and poplars, +thickly dotted, and among them the twisting smoke of farmstead and +cottage, here and there, and the morning stir of kitchen and stable +very musical in the crisp air. + +Delia stepped along beside me, humming an air or breaking off to +chatter. Meeting us, you would have said we had never a care. The +road went stretching away to the northwest and the hills against the +sky there; whither beyond, we neither knew nor (being both young, +and one, by this time, pretty deep in love) did greatly care. Yet +meeting with a waggoner and his team, we drew up to enquire. + +The waggoner had a shock of whitish hair and a face purple-red above, +by reason of the cold, and purple-black below, for lack of a barber. +He purs'd up his mouth and look'd us slowly up and down. + +"Come," said I, "you are not deaf, I hope, nor dumb." + +"Send I may niver!" the fellow ejaculated, slowly and with +contemplation: "'tis an unseemly sight, yet tickling to the +mirthfully minded. Haw--haw!" He check'd his laughter suddenly and +stood like a stone image beside his horses. + +"Good sir," said Delia, laying a hand on my arm (for I was growing +nettled), "your mirth is a riddle: but tell us our way and you are +free to laugh." + +"Oh, Scarlet--Scarlet!" answer'd he: "and to me, that am a man o' +blushes from my cradle!" + +Convinced by this that the fellow must be an idiot, I told him so, +and left him staring after us; nor heard the sound of his horses +moving on again for many minutes. + +After this we met about a dozen on the road, and all paus'd to stare. +But from one--an old woman--we learn'd we were walking toward +Marlboro', and about noon were over the hills and looking into the +valley beyond. + +'Twas very like the other vale; only a pleasant stream wound along +the bottom, by the banks of which the road took us. Here, by a +bridge, we came to an inn bearing the sign of "The Broad Face," and +entered: for Captain Settle's stock of victuals was now done. A +sour-fac'd woman met us at the door. + +"Do you stay here," Delia advis'd me, "and drink a mug of beer while +I bargain with the hostess for fresh food." She follow'd the sour- +fac'd woman into the house. + +But out she comes presently with her cheeks flaming and a pair of +bright eyes. "Come!" she commanded, "come at once!" Setting down my +half emptied mug, I went after her across the bridge and up the road, +wondering. In this way we must have walk'd for a mile or more before +she turn'd and stamp'd her little foot-- + +"Horrible!" she cried. "Horrible--wicked--shameful! Ugh!" There were +tears in her eyes. + +"What is shameful?" + +She made no reply, but walk'd on again quickly. + +"I am getting hungry, for my part," sigh'd I, after a little. + +"Then you must starve!" + +"Oh!" + +She wheel'd round again. + +"Jack, this will never do. If you are to have a comrade, let it be +a boy." + +"Now, I am very passably content as things are." + +"Nonsense: at Marlboro', I mean, you must buy me a suit of boy's +clothes. What are you hearkening to?" + +"I thought I heard the noise of guns--or is it thunder?" + +"Dear Jack, don't say 'tis thunder! I do mortally fear thunder--and +mice." + +"'Twouldn't be thunder at this time of year. No, 'tis guns firing." + +"Where?--not that I mind guns." + +"Ahead of us." + +On the far side of the valley we enter'd a wood, thinking by this to +shorten our way: for the road here took a long bend to eastward. Now, +at first this wood seem'd of no considerable size, but thicken'd and +spread as we advanced. 'Twas only, however, after passing the ridge, +and when daylight began to fail us, that I became alarm'd. For the +wood grew denser, with a tangle of paths criss-crossing amid the +undergrowth. And just then came the low mutter of cannon again, +shaking the earth. We began to run forward, tripping in the gloom +over brambles, and stumbling into holes. + +For a mile or so this lasted: and then, without warning, I heard a +sound behind me, and look'd back, to find Delia sunk upon the ground. + +"Jack, here's a to-do!" + +"What's amiss?" + +"Why, I am going to swoon!" + +The words were scarce out, when there sounded a crackling and +snapping of twigs ahead, and two figures came rushing toward us--a +man and a woman. The man carried an infant in his arms: and tho' I +call'd on them to stop, the pair ran by us with no more notice than +if we had been stones. Only the woman cried, "Dear Lord, save us!" +and wrung her hands as she pass'd out of sight. + +"This is strange conduct," thought I: but peering down, saw that +Delia's face was white and motionless. She had swoon'd, indeed, from +weariness and hunger. So I took her in my arms and stumbled forward, +hoping to find the end of the wood soon. For now the rattle of +artillery came louder and incessant through the trees, and mingling +with it, a multitude of dull shouts and outcries. At first I was +minded to run after the man and woman, but on second thought, +resolv'd to see the danger before hiding from it. + +The trees, in a short while, grew sparser, and between the stems I +mark'd a ruddy light glowing. And then I came out on an open space +upon the hillside, with a dip of earth in front; and beyond, a long +ridge of pines standing up black, because of a red glare behind +them; and saw that this came not from any setting sun, but was the +light of a conflagration. + +The glare danced and quiver'd in the sky, as I cross'd the hollow. +It made even Delia's white cheek seem rosy. Up amid the pines I +clamor'd, and along the ridge to where it broke off in a steep +declivity. And lo! in a minute I look'd down as 'twere into the +infernal pit. + +There was a whole town burning below. And in the streets men were +fighting, as could be told by their shouts and the rattle and blaze +of musketry. For a garment of smoke lay over all and hid them: only +the turmoil beat up as from a furnace, and the flames of burning +thatches, and quick jets of firearms like lightning in a +thundercloud. Great sparks floated past us, and over the trees at +our back. A hot blast breath'd on our cheeks. Now and then you might +hear a human shriek distinct amid the din, and this spoke terribly +to the heart. + +Now the town was Marlboro', and the attacking force a body of royal +troops sent from Oxford to oust the garrison of the Parliament, +which they did this same night, with great slaughter, driving the +rebels out of the place, and back on the road to Bristol. Had we +guess'd this, much ill luck had been spared us; but we knew nought +of it, nor whether friends or foes were getting the better. So +(Delia being by this time recover'd a little) we determined to pass +the night in the woods, and on the morrow to give the place a wide +berth. + +Retreating, then, to the hollow (that lay on the lee side of the +ridge, away from the north wind), I gather'd a pile of great stones, +and spread my cloak thereover for Delia. To sleep was impossible, +even with the will for it. For the tumult and fighting went on, and +only died out about an hour before dawn: and once or twice we were +troubled to hear the sound of people running on the ridge above. So +we sat and talked in low voices till dawn; and grew more desperately +hunger'd than ever. + +With the chill of daybreak we started, meaning to get quit of the +neighborhood before any espied us; and fetch'd a compass to the +south without another look at Marlboro'. At the end of two hours, +turning northwest again, we came to some water meadows beside a tiny +river (the Kennet, as I think), and saw, some way beyond, a high +road that cross'd to our side (only the bridge was now broken down), +and further yet, a thick smoke curling up; but whence this came I +could not see. Now we had been avoiding all roads this morning, and +hiding at every sound of footsteps. But hunger was making us bold. +I bade Delia crouch down by the stream's bank, where many alders grew, +and set off toward this column of smoke. + +By the spot where the road cross'd I noted that many men and horses +had lately pass'd hereby to westward, and, by their footmarks, at a +great speed. A little further, and I came on a broken musket flung +against the hedge, with a nauseous mess of blood and sandy hairs +about the stock of it; and just beyond was a dead horse, his legs +sticking up like bent poles across the road. 'Twas here that my +blood went cold on a sudden, to hear a dismal groaning not far ahead. +I stood still, holding my breath, and then ran forward again. + +The road took a twist that led me face to face with a small +whitewashed cottage, smear'd with black stains of burning. For +seemingly it had been fir'd in one or two places, only the flames +had died out: and from the back, where some out-building yet +smoulder'd, rose the smoke that I spied. But what brought me to a +stand was to see the doorway all crack'd and charr'd, and across it +a soldier stretch'd--a green-coated rebel--and quite dead. His face +lay among the burn'd ruins of the door, that had wofully singed his +beard and hair. A stain of blood ran across the door stone and into +the road. + +I was gazing upon him and shuddering, when again I heard the groans. +They issued from the upper chamber of the cottage. I stepped over +the dead soldier and mounted the ladder that led upstairs. + +The upper room was but a loft. In it were two beds, whereof one was +empty. On the edge of the other sat up a boy of sixteen or +thereabouts, stark naked and moaning miserably. With one hand he +seem'd trying to cover a big wound that gaped in his chest: the +other, as my head rose over the ladder, he stretch'd out with all +the fingers spread. And this was his last effort. As I stumbled up, +his fingers clos'd in a spasm of pain; his hands dropp'd, and the +body tumbled back on the bed, where it lay with the legs dangling. + +The poor lad must have been stabb'd as he lay asleep. For by the +bedside I found his clothes neatly folded and without a speck of +blood. They were clean, though coarse; so thinking they would +serve for Delia, I took them, albeit with some scruples at robbing +the dead, and covering the body with a sheet, made my way +downstairs. + +[Illustration: "Oh, Jack--they do not fit at all!"--Page 121.] + +Here, on a high shelf at the foot of the ladder, I discover'd a +couple of loaves and some milk, and also, lying hard by, a pair of +shepherd's shears, which I took also, having a purpose for them. By +this time, being sick enough of the place, I was glad to make all +speed back to Delia. + +She was still waiting among the leafless alders, and clapp'd her +hands to see the two loaves under my arm. + +Said I, flinging down the clothes, and munching at my share of the +bread--- + +"Here is the boy's suit that you wish'd for." + +"Oh, dear! 'tis not a very choice one." Her face fell. + +"All the better for escaping notice." + +"But--but I _like_ to be notic'd!" + +Nevertheless, when breakfast was done, she consented to try on the +clothes. I left her eyeing them doubtfully, and stroll'd away by the +river's bank. In a while her voice call'd to me--- + +"Oh, Jack--they do not fit at all!" + +"Why, 'tis admirable!" said I, returning, and scanning her. Now this +was a lie: but she took me more than ever, so pretty and comical she +look'd in the dress. + +"And I cannot walk a bit in them!" she pouted, strutting up and down. + +"Swing your arms more, and let them hang looser." + +"And my hair. Oh, Jack, I have such beautiful hair!" + +"It must come off," said I, pulling the shears out of my pocket. + +"And look at these huge boots!" + +Indeed, this was the main trouble, for I knew they would hurt her in +walking: yet she made more fuss about her hair, and only gave in +when I scolded her roundly. So I took the shears and clipp'd the +chestnut curls, one by one, while she cried for vexation; and took +occasion of her tears to smuggle the longest lock inside my doublet. + + * * * * * + +But, an hour after, she was laughing again, and had learned to cock +the poor country lad's cap rakishly over one eye: and by evening was +walking with a swagger and longing (I know) to meet with folks. For, +to spare her the sight of the ruin'd cottage, I had taken her round +through the fields, and by every bypath that seem'd to lead westward. +'Twas safer to journey thus; and all the way she practic'd a man's +carriage and airs, and how to wink and whistle and swing a stick. +And once, when she left one of her shoes in a wet ditch, she said +"d--n!" as natural as life: and then-- + +We jump'd over a hedge, plump into an outpost of rebels, as they sat +munching their supper. + +They were six in all, and must have been sitting like mice: for all +I know of it is this. I had climb'd the hedge first, and was helping +Delia over, when out of the ground, as it seem'd, a voice shriek'd, +"Run--run!--the King's men are on us!" and then, my foot slipping, +down I went on to the shoulders of a thick-set man, and well-nigh +broke his neck as he turn'd to look up at me. + +At first, the whole six were for running, I believe. But seeing only +a lad stretch'd on his face, and a second on the hedge, they thought +better of it. Before I could scramble up, one pair of hands was +screw'd about my neck, another at my heels, and in a trice there we +were pinion'd. + +"Fetch the lantern, Zacchaeus." + +'Twas quickly lit, and thrust into my face; and very foolish I must +have look'd. The fellows were all clad in green coats, much soil'd +with mud and powder. And they grinn'd in my face till I long'd to +kick them. + +"Search the malignant!" cried one. "Question him," call'd out +another; and forthwith began a long interrogatory concerning the +movements of his Majesty's troops, from which, indeed, I learn'd +much concerning the late encounter: but of course could answer +nought. 'Twas only natural they should interpret this silence for +obstinacy. + +"March 'em off to Captain Stubbs!" + +"Halloa!" shouted a pockmarked trooper, that had his hand thrust in +on my breast: "bring the lantern close here. What's this?" + +'Twas, alas! the King's letter: and I bit my lip while they +cluster'd round, turning the lantern's yellow glare upon the +superscription. + +"Lads, there's promotion in this!" shouted the thick-set man I had +tumbled on (who, it seem'd, was the sergeant in the troop): "hand me +the letter, there! Zacchaeus Martin and Tom Pine--you two bide here +on duty: t'other three fall in about the prisoners--quick march!' +The wicked have digged a pit--'" + +The rogue ended up with a tag from the Psalmist. + +We were march'd down the road for a mile or more, till we heard a +loud bawling, as of a man in much bodily pain, and soon came to a +small village, where, under a tavern lamp, by the door, was a man +perch'd up on a tub, and shouting forth portions of the Scripture to +some twenty or more green-coats assembled round. Our conductor +pushed past these, and enter'd the tavern. At a door to the left in +the passage he halted, and knocking once, thrust us inside. + +The room was bare and lit very dimly by two tallow candles, set in +bottles. Between these, on a deal table, lay a map outspread, and +over it a man was bending, who look'd up sharply at our entrance. + +He was thin, with a blue nose, and wore a green uniform like the +rest: only his carriage proved him a man of authority. + +This Captain Stubbs listened, you may be sure, with a bright'ning +eye to the sergeant's story; and at the close fix'd an inquisitive +gaze on the pair of us, turning the King's letter over and over in +his hands. + +"How came this in your possession?" he ask'd at length. + +"That," said I, "I must decline to tell." + +He hesitated a moment; then, re-seating himself, broke the seal, +spread the letter upon the map, and read it slowly through. For the +first time I began heartily to hope that the paper contain'd nothing +of moment. But the man's face was no index of this. He read it +through twice, folded it away in his breast, and turn'd to the +sergeant-- + + +"To-morrow at six in the morning we continue our march. Meanwhile +keep these fellows secure. I look to you for this." + +The sergeant saluted and we were led out. That night we pass'd in +handcuffs, huddled with fifty soldiers in a hayloft of the inn and +hearkening to their curious talk, that was half composed of Holy +Writ and half of gibes at our expense. They were beaten men and, +like all such, found comfort in deriding the greater misfortunes of +others. + +Before daylight the bugles began to sound, and we were led down to +the green before the tavern door, where already were close upon five +hundred gather'd, that had been billeted about the village and were +now forming in order of march--a soil'd, batter'd crew, with torn +ensigns and little heart in their movements. The sky began a cold +drizzle as we set out, and through this saddening whether we trudged +all day, Delia and I being kept well apart, she with the vanguard +and I in the rear, seeing only the winding column, the dejected +heads bobbing in front as they bent to the slanting rain, the +cottagers that came out to stare as we pass'd; and hearing but the +hoarse words of command, the low mutterings of the men, and always +the monotonous _tramp-tramp_ through the slush and mire of the roads. + +'Tis like a bad dream to me, and I will not dwell on it. That night +we pass'd at Chippenham--a small market town--and on the morrow went +tramping again through worse weather, but always amid the same +sights and sounds. There were moments when I thought to go mad, +wrenching at my cords till my wrists bled, yet with no hope to +escape. But in time, by good luck, my wits grew deaden'd to it all, +and I march'd on with the rest to a kind of lugubrious singsong that +my brain supplied. For hours I went thus, counting my steps, missing +my reckoning, and beginning again. + +Daylight was failing when the towers of Bristol grew clear out of +the leaden mist in front; and by five o'clock we halted outside the +walls and beside the ditch of the castle, waiting for the drawbridge +to be let down. Already a great crowd had gather'd about us, of +those who had come out to learn news of the defeat, which, the day +before some fugitives had carried to Bristol. To their questions, as +to all else, I listen'd like a man in a trance: and recall this +only--that first I was shivering out in the rain and soon after was +standing beside Delia, under guard of a dozen soldiers, and shaking +with cold, beneath a gateway that led between the two wards of the +castle. And there, for an hour at least, we kick'd our heels, until +from the inner ward Captain Stubbs came striding and commanded us to +follow. + +Across the court we went in the rain, through a vaulted passage, and +passing a screen of carved oak found ourselves suddenly in a great +hall, near forty yards long (as I reckon it), and rafter'd with oak. +At the far end, around a great marble table, were some ten or more +gentlemen seated, who all with one accord turn'd their eyes upon us, +as the captain brought us forward. + +The table before them was litter'd with maps, warrants, and papers; +and some of the gentlemen had pens in their hands. But the one on +whom my eyes fastened was a tall, fair soldier that sat in the +centre, and held his Majesty's letter, open, in his hand: who rose +and bow'd to me as I came near. + +"Sir," he said, "the fortune of war having given you into our hands, +you will not refuse, I hope, to answer our questions." + +"Sir, I have nought to tell," answer'd I, bowing in return. + +With a delicate white hand he wav'd my words aside. He had a +handsome, irresolute mouth, and was, I could tell, of very different +degree from the merchants and lawyers beside him. + +"You act under orders from the--the--" + +"Anti-Christ," put in a snappish little fellow on his right. + +"I do nothing of the sort," said I. + +"Well, then, sir, from King Charles." + +"I do not." + +"Tush!" exclaim'd the snappish man, and then straightening himself +up--"That boy with you--that fellow disguis'd as a countryman--look +at his boots!--he's a Papist spy!" + +"There, sir, you are wrong!" + +"I saw him--I'll be sworn to his face--I saw him, a year back, at +Douai, helping at the mass! I never forget faces." + +"Why, what nonsense!" cried I, and burst out laughing. + +"Don't mock at me, sir!" he thunder'd, bringing down his fist on the +table. "I tell you the boy is a Papist!" He pointed furiously at +Delia, who, now laughing also, answer'd him very demurely--- + +"Indeed, sir--" + +"I saw you, I say." + +"You are bold to make so certain of a Papist--" + +"I saw you!" + +"That cannot even tell maid from man!" + +"What is meant by that?" asks the tall soldier, opening his eyes. + +"Why, simply this, sir: I am no boy at all, but a girl!" + +There was a minute, during which the little man went purple in the +face, and the rest star'd at Delia in blank astonishment. + +"Oh, Jack," she whisper'd in my ear, "I am so very, very sorrow: but +I _cannot_ wear these hateful clothes much longer." + +She fac'd the company with a rosy blush. + +"What say you to this?" ask'd Colonel Essex--for 'twas he--turning +round on the little man. + +"Say? What do I say? That the fellow is a Papist, too. I knew it +from the first, and this proves it!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +I BREAK OUT OF PRISON. + + +You are now to be ask'd to pass over the next four weeks in as many +minutes: as would I had done at the time! For I spent them in a +bitter cold cell in the main tower of Bristol keep, with a chair and +a pallet of straw for all my furniture, and nothing to stay my fast +but the bread and water that the jailer--a sour man, if ever there +were one--brought me twice a day. + +This keep lies in the northwest corner of the outer ward of the +castle--a mighty tall pile and strongly built, the walls (as the +jailer told me) being a full twenty-five feet thick near the +foundations, tho' by time you ascended to the towers this thickness +had dwindled to six feet and no more. In shape 'twas a quadrilateral, +a little shorter from north to south than from east to west (in +which latter direction it measured sixty feet, about), and had four +towers standing at the four corners, whereof mine was five fathoms +higher than the rest. + +Guess, then, how little I thought of escape, having but one window, +a hundred feet (I do believe) above the ground, and that so narrow +that, even without the iron bar across it, 'twould barely let my +shoulders pass. What concern'd me more was the cold that gnaw'd me +continually these winter nights, as I lay thinking of Delia (whom I +had not seen since our examination), or gazing out on the patch of +frosty heaven that was all my view. 'Twas thus I had heard Bristol +bells ringing for Christmas in the town below. + +Colonel Essex had been thrice to visit me, and always offer'd many +excuses for my treatment; but when he came to question me, why of +course I had nothing to tell, so that each visit but served to vex +him more. Clearly I was suspected to know a great deal beyond what +appear'd in the letter: and no doubt poor Anthony Killigrew had +receiv'd some verbal message from His Majesty which he lived not +long enough to transmit to me. As 'twas, I kept silence; and the +Colonel in return would tell me nothing of what had befallen Delia. + +One fine, frosty morning, then, when I had lain in this distress +just four weeks, the door of my cell open'd, and there appear'd a +young woman, not uncomely, bringing in my bread and water. She was +the jailer's daughter, and wore a heavy bunch of keys at her girdle. + +"Oh, good morning!" said I: for till now her father only had visited +me, and this was a welcome change. + +Instead of answering cheerfully (as I look'd for), she gave a little +nod of the head, rather sorrowful, and answered:-- + +"Father's abed with the ague." + +"Now you cannot expect me to be sorry." + +"Nay," she said; and I caught her looking at me with something like +compassion in her blue eyes, which mov'd me to cry out suddenly--- + +"I think you are woman enough to like a pair of lovers." + +"Oh, aye: but where's t'other half of the pair?" + +"You're right. The young gentlewoman that was brought hither with +me--I know not if she loves me: but this I do know--I would give my +hand to learn her whereabouts, and how she fares." + +"Better eat thy loaf," put in the girl very suddenly, setting down +the plate and pitcher. + +'Twas odd, but I seem'd to hear a sob in her voice. However, her +back was toward me as I glanc'd up. And next moment she was gone, +locking the iron door behind her. + +I turn'd from my breakfast with a sigh, having for the moment tasted +the hope to hear something of Delia. But in a while, feeling hungry, +I pick'd up the loaf beside me, and broke it in two. + +To my amaze, out dropp'd something that jingled on the stone floor. + +'Twas a small file: and examining the loaf again, I found a clasp- +knife also, and a strip of paper, neatly folded, hidden in the bread. + +"Deare Jack, + +"Colonel Essex, finding no good come of his interrogatories, hath +set me at large; tho' I continue under his eye, to wit, with a +dowager of his acquaintance, a Mistress Finch. Wee dwell in a +private house midway down St. Thomas his street, in Redcliffe: and +she hath put a dismal dress upon me (Jack, 'tis _hideous_), but +otherwise uses me not ill. But take care of thyself, my deare +friend: for tho' the Colonel be a gentilman, he is press'd by them +about him, and at our last interview I noted a mischief in his eye. +Canst use this file?--(but take care: all the gates I saw guarded +with troopers to-day.) This by one who hath been my friend: for +whose sake tear the paper up. And beleeve your cordial, loving +comrade + +"D. K." + +After reading this a dozen times, till I had it by heart, I tore the +letter into small pieces and hid them in my pocket. This done, I +felt lighter-hearted than for many a day, and (rather for employment +than with any farther view) began lazily to rub away at my window +bar. The file work'd well. By noon the bar was half sever'd, and I +broke off to whistle a tune. 'Twas--- + + "Vivre en tout cas, + C'est le grand soulas--" + +and I broke off to hear the key turning in my lock. + +The jailer's daughter enter'd with my second meal. Her eyes were red +with weeping. + +Said I, "Does your father beat you?" + +"He has, before now," she replied: "but not to-day." + +"Then why do you weep?" + +"Not for that." + +"For what then?" + +"For you--oh, dear, dear! How shall I tell it? They are going to-- +to---" She sat down on the chair, and sobb'd in her apron. + +"What is't they are going to do?" + +"To--to--h-hang you." + +"The devil! When?" + +"Tut-tut-to-morrow mo-horning!" + +I went suddenly very cold all over. There was silence for a moment, +and then I heard the noise of some one dropping a plank in the +courtyard below. + +"What's that?" + +"The gug-gug---" + +"Gallows?" + +She nodded. + +"You are but a weak girl," said I, meditating. + +"Aye: but there's a dozen troopers on the landing below." + +"Then, my dear, you must lock me up," I decided gloomily, and fell +to whistling---- + + "Vivre en tout cas, + C'est le grand soulas--" + +A workman's hammer in the court below chim'd in, beating out the +tune, and driving the moral home. I heard a low sob behind me. The +jailer's daughter was going. + +"Lend me your bodkin, my dear, for a memento." + +She pull'd it out and gave it to me. + +"Thank you, and now good-bye! Stop: here's a kiss to take to my dear +mistress. They shan't hang me, my dear." + +The girl went out, sobbing, and lock'd the door after her. + +I sat down for a while, feeling doleful. For I found myself +extremely young to be hang'd. But soon the _whang--whang!_ of +the hammer below rous'd me. "Come," I thought, "I'll see what that +rascal is doing, at any rate," and pulling the file from my pocket, +began to attack the window bar with a will. I had no need for +silence, at this great height above the ground: and besides, the +hammering continued lustily. + +Daylight was closing as I finish'd my task and, pulling the two +pieces of the bar aside, thrust my head out at the window. + +Directly under me, and about twenty feet from the ground, I saw a +beam projecting, about six feet long, over a sort of doorway in the +wall. Under this beam, on a ladder, was a carpenter fellow at work, +fortifying it with two supporting timbers that rested on the sill of +the doorway. He was merry enough over the job, and paused every now +and again to fling a remark to a little group of soldiers that stood +idling below, where the fellow's workbag and a great coil of rope +rested by the ladder's foot. + +"Reckon, Sammy," said one, pulling a long tobacco pipe from his +mouth and spitting, "'tis a long while since thy last job o' the +sort." + +"Aye, lad: terrible disrepair this place has fall'n into. But send +us a cheerful heart, say I! Instead o' the viper an' owl, shall +henceforward be hangings of men an' all manner o' diversion." + +I kept my head out of sight and listen'd. + +"What time doth 'a swing?" ask'd another of the soldiers. + +"I heard the Colonel give orders for nine o'clock to-morrow," +answer'd the first soldier, spitting again. + +The clock over the barbican struck four: and in a minute was being +answer'd from tower after tower, down in the city. + +"Four o'clock!" cried the man on the ladder: "time to stop work, and +here goes for the last nail!" He drove it in and prepar'd to descend. + +"Hi!" shouted a soldier, "you've forgot the rope." + +"That'll wait till to-morrow. There's a staple to drive in, too. I +tell you I'm dry, and want my beer." + +He whipp'd his apron round his waist, and gathering up his nails, +went down the ladder. At the foot he pick'd up his bag, shoulder'd +the ladder, and loung'd away, leaving the coil of rope lying there. +Presently the soldiers saunter'd off also, and the court was empty. + +Now up to this moment I had but one idea of avoiding my fate, and +that was to kill myself. 'Twas to this end I had borrow'd the bodkin +of the maid. Afterward I had a notion of flinging myself from the +window as they came for me. But now, as I look'd down on that coil +of rope lying directly below, a prettier scheme struck me. I sat +down on the floor of my cell and pull'd off my boots and stockings. + +'Twas such a pretty plan that I got into a fever of impatience. +Drawing off a stocking and picking out the end of the yarn, I began +to unravel the knitting for dear life, until the whole lay, a heap +of thread, on the floor. I then serv'd the other in the same way: +and at the end had two lines, each pretty near four hundred yards in +length: which now I divided into eight lines of about a hundred +yards each. + +With these I set to work, and by the end of twenty minutes had +plaited a rope--if rope, indeed, it could be called--weak to be sure, +but long enough to reach the ground with plenty to spare. Then, +having bent my bodkin to the form of a hook, I tied it to the end of +my cord, weighted it with a crown from my pocket, and clamber'd up +to the window. I was going to angle for the hangman's rope. + +'Twas near dark by this; but I could just distinguish it on the +paving stones below, and looking about the court, saw that no one +was astir. I wriggled first my head, then a shoulder, through the +opening, and let the line run gently through my hand. There was +still many yards left, that could be paid out, when I heard my coin +tinkle softly on the pavement. + +Then began my difficulty. A dozen times I pull'd my hook across the +coil before it hitch'd; and then a full three score of times the +rope slipped away before I had rais'd it a dozen yards. My elbow was +raw, almost, with leaning on the sill, and I began to lose heart and +head, when, to my delight, the bodkin caught and held. It had +fasten'd on a kink in the rope, not far from the end. I began to +pull up, hand over hand, trembling all the while like a leaf. + +For I had two very reasonable fears. First, the rope might slip away +and tumble before it reach'd my grasp. Secondly, it might, after all, +prove a deal too short. It had look'd to me a new rope of many +fathoms, not yet cut for to-morrow's purpose; but eyesight might +well deceive at that distance, and surely enough I saw that the +whole was dangling off the ground long before it came to my hand. + +But at last I caught it, and slipping back into the room, pull'd it +after me, yard upon yard. My heart went loud and fast. There was +nothing to fasten it to but an iron staple in the door, that meant +losing the width of my cell, some six feet. This, however, must be +risk'd, and I made the end fast, lower'd the other out of window +again, and climbing to a sitting posture on the window sill, thrust +out my legs over the gulf. + +Thankful was I that darkness had fallen before this, and hidden the +giddy depths below me. I gripp'd the rope and push'd myself inch by +inch through the window, and out over the ledge. For a moment I +dangled, without courage to move a hand. Then, wreathing my legs +round the rope, I loosed my left hand, and caught with it again some +six inches lower. And so, down I went. + +Minute follow'd minute, and left me still descending, six inches at +a time, and looking neither above nor below, but always at the grey +wall that seem'd sliding up in front of me. The first dizziness was +over, but a horrible aching of the arms had taken the place of it. +'Twas growing intolerable, when suddenly my legs, that sought to +close round the rope, found space only. I had come to the end. + +I look'd down. A yard below my feet the beam of the gallows gleam'd +palely out of the darkness. Here was my chance. I let my hands slip +down the last foot or so of rope, hung for a moment, then dropp'd +for the beam. + +My feet miss'd it, as I intended they should; but I flung both arms +out and caught it, bringing myself up with a jerk. While yet I hung +clawing, I heard a footstep coming through the gateway between the +two wards. + +Here was a fix. With all speed and silence I drew myself up to the +beam, found a hold with one knee upon it, got astride, and lay down +at length, flattening my body down against the timber. Yet all the +while I felt sure I must have been heard. + +The footsteps drew nearer, and pass'd almost under the gallows. +'Twas an officer, for, as he pass'd, he called out--- + +"Sergeant Downs! Sergeant Downs!" + +A voice from the guardroom in the barbican answer'd him through the +darkness. + +"Why is not the watch set?" + +"In a minute, sir: it wants a minute to six." + +"I thought the Colonel order'd it at half past five?" + +In the silence that follow'd, the barbican clock began to strike, +and half a dozen troopers tumbled out from the guardroom, some +laughing, some grumbling at the coldness of the night. The officer +return'd to the inner ward as they dispersed to their posts: and +soon there was silence again, save for the _tramp-tramp_ of a sentry +crossing and recrossing the pavement below me. + +All this while I lay flatten'd along the beam, scarce daring to +breathe. But at length, when the man had pass'd below for the sixth +time, I found heart to wriggle myself toward the doorway over which +the gallows protruded. By slow degrees, and pausing whenever the +fellow drew near, I crept close up to the wall: then, waiting the +proper moment, cast my legs over, dangled for a second or two +swinging myself toward the sill, flung myself off, and, touching the +ledge with one toe, pitch'd forward in the room. + +The effect of this was to give me a sound crack as I struck the +flooring, which lay about a foot below the level of the sill. I +pick'd myself up and listen'd. Outside, the regular tramp of the +sentry prov'd he had not heard me; and I drew a long breath, for I +knew that without a lantern he would never spy, in the darkness, the +telltale rope dangling from the tower. + +In the room where I stood all was right. But the flooring was uneven +to the foot, and scatter'd with small pieces of masonry. 'Twas one +of the many chambers in the castle that had dropp'd into disrepair. +Groping my way with both hands, and barking my shins on the loose +stones, I found a low vaulted passage that led me into a second +chamber, empty as the first. To my delight, the door of this was +ajar, with a glimmer of light slanting through the crack. I made +straight toward it, and pull'd the door softly. It open'd, and +show'd a lantern dimly burning, and the staircase of the keep +winding past me, up into darkness. + +My chance was, of course, to descend: which I did on tiptoe, hearing +no sound. The stairs twisted down and down, and ended by a stout +door with another lamp shining above it. After listening a moment I +decided to be bold, and lifted the latch. A faint cry saluted me. + +I stood face to face with the jailer's daughter. + +The room was a small one, well lit, and lin'd about the walls with +cups and bottles. 'Twas, as I guess'd, a taproom for the soldiers: +and the girl had been scouring one of the pewter mugs when my +entrance startled her. She stood up, white as if painted, and +gasp'd-- + +"Quick--quick! Down here behind the counter for your life!" + +There was scarce time to drop on my knees before a couple of +troopers loung'd in, demanding mull'd beer. The girl bustled about +to serve them, while the pair lean'd their elbows on the counter, +and in this easy attitude began to chat. + +"A shrewd night!" + +"Aye, a very freezing frost! Lucky that soldiering is not all sentry +work, or I for one 'ud ensue my natural trade o' plumbing. But let's +be cheerful: for the voice o' the turtle is heard i' the land." + +"Hey?" + +The man took a pull at his hot beer before explaining. + +"The turtle signifieth the Earl o' Stamford, that is to-night +visiting Colonel Essex in secret: an' this is the import--war, +bloody war. Mark me." + +"Stirring, striving times!" + +"You may say so! 'A hath fifteen thousand men, the Earl, no farther +off than Taunton--why, my dear, how pale you look, to be sure!" + +"'Tis my head that aches," answer'd the girl. + +The men finish'd their drink, and saunter'd out. I crept from under +the counter, and look'd at her. + +"Father'll kill me for this!" + +"Then you shall say--Is it forward or back I must go?" + +"Neither." She pull'd up a trap close beside her feet, and pointed +out a ladder leading down to the darkness. "The courts are full of +troopers," she added. + +"The cellar?" + +She nodded. + +"Quick! There's a door at the far end. It leads to the crypt of St. +John's Chapel. You'll find the key beside it, and a lantern. Here is +flint and steel." She reach'd them down from a shelf beside her. +"Crouch down, or they'll spy you through the window. From the crypt +a passage takes you to the governor's house. How to escape then, God +knows! 'Tis the best I can think on." + +I thank'd her, and began to step down the ladder. She stood for a +moment to watch, leaving the trap open for better light. Between the +avenue of casks and bins I stumbled toward the door and lantern that +were just to be discern'd at the far end of the cellar. As I struck +steel on flint, I heard the trap close: and since then have never +set eyes on that kind-hearted girl. + +The lantern lit, I took the key and fitted it to the lock. It turned +noisily, and a cold whiff of air struck my face. Gazing round this +new chamber, I saw two lines of squat pillars, supporting a low +arch'd roof. 'Twas the crypt beneath the chapel, and smelt vilely. +A green moisture trickled down the pillars, and dripp'd on the tombs +beneath them. + +At the end of this dreary place was a broken door, consisting only +of a plank or two, that I easily pull'd away: and beyond, a narrow +passage, over which I heard the tread of troopers plainly, as they +pac'd to and fro; also the muffled note of the clock, sounding seven. + +The passage went fairly straight, but was block'd here and there +with fallen stones, over which I scrambled as best I could. And then, +suddenly I was near pitching down a short flight of steps. I held +the lantern aloft and look'd. + +At the steps' foot widen'd out a low room, whereof the ceiling, like +that of the crypt, rested on pillars. Between these, every inch of +space was pil'd with barrels, chests, and great pyramids of round +shot. In each corner lay a heap of rusty pikes. Of all this the +signification was clear. I stood in the munition room of the Castle. + +But what chiefly took my notice was a great door, studded with iron +nails, that barr'd all exit from the place. Over the barrels I crept +toward it, keeping the lantern high, in dread of firing any loose +powder. 'Twas fast lock'd. + +I think that, for a moment or two, I could have wept. But in a while +the thought struck me that with the knife in my pocket 'twas +possible to cut away the wood around the lock. "Courage!" said I: +and pulling it forth, knelt down to work. + +Luck in life has always used me better than my deserts. At an hour's +end there I was, hacking away steadily, yet had made but little +progress. And then, pressing the knife deep, I broke the blade off +short. The door upon the far side was cas'd with iron. + +_Tramp--tramp!_ + +'Twas the sound of man's footfall, and to the ear appear'd to be +descending a flight of steps on the other side of the door. I bent +my ear to the keyhole: then stepp'd to a cask of bullets that stood +handy by. I took out a dozen, felt in my pocket for Delia's kerchief +that she had given me, caught up a pike from the pile stack'd in the +corner, and softly blowing out my light, stood back to be conceal'd +by the door, when it open'd. + +The footsteps still descended. I heard an aged voice muttering-- + +"Shrivel my bones--ugh!--ugh! Wintry work--wintry work! Here's an +hour to send a grandfatherly man a-groping for a keg o' powder!" + +A wheezy cough clos'd the sentence, as a key was with difficulty +fitted in the lock. + +"Ugh--ugh! Sure, the lock an' I be a pair, for stiff joints." + +The door creak'd back against me, and a shaft of light pierc'd the +darkness. + +Within the threshold, with his back to me, stood a grey-bearded +servant, and totter'd so that the lantern shook in his hand. It +sham'd me to lift a pike against one so weak. Instead, I dropp'd it +with a clatter, and leap'd forward. The old fellow jumped like a boy, +turn'd, and fac'd me with dropp'd jaw, which gave me an opportunity +to thrust four or five bullets, not over roughly, into his mouth. +Then, having turn'd him on his back, I strapp'd Delia's kerchief +tight across his mouth, and took the lantern from his hand. + +Not a word was said. Sure, the poor old man's wits were shaken, for +he lay meek as a mouse, and star'd up at me, while I unstrapp'd his +belt and bound his feet with it. His hands I truss'd up behind him +with his own neckcloth; and catching up the lantern, left him there. +I lock'd the door after me, and slip'd the key into my pocket as I +sprang up the stairs beyond. + +But here a light was shining, so once more I extinguish'd my lantern. +The steps ended in a long passage, with a handsome lamp hanging at +the uttermost end, and beneath this lamp I stepp'd into a place that +fill'd me with astonishment. + +'Twas, I could not doubt, the entrance hall of the governor's house. +An oak door, very massive, fronted me; to left and right were two +smaller doors, that plainly led into apartments of the house. Also +to my left, and nigher than the door on that side, ran up a broad +staircase, carpeted and brightly lit all the way, so that a very +blaze fell on me as I stood. Under the first flight, close to my +left shoulder, was a line of pegs with many cloaks and hats +depending therefrom. Underfoot, I remember, the hall was richly +tiled in squares of red and white marble. + +Now clearly, this was a certain place wherein to be caught. "But," +thought I, "behind one of the two doors, to left or to right, must +lie the governor's room of business; and in that room--as likely as +not--his keys." Which door, then, should I choose? For to stay here +was madness. + +While I stood pondering, the doubt was answer'd for me. From behind +the right-hand door came a burst of laughter and clinking of glasses, +on top of which a man's voice--the voice of Colonel Essex--call'd +out for more wine. + +I took a step to the door on the left, paus'd for a second or two +with my hand on the latch, and then cautiously push'd it open. The +chamber was empty. + +'Twas a long room, with a light burning on a square centre table, +and around it a mass of books, loose papers and documents strewn, +seemingly without order. The floor too was litter'd with them. +Clearly this was the Colonel's office. + +I gave a rapid glance around. The lamp's rays scarce illumin'd the +far corners; but in one of these stood a great leathern screen, and +over the fireplace near it a rack was hanging, full of swords, +pistols, and walking canes. Stepping toward it I caught sight of +Anthony's sword, suspended there amongst the rest (they had taken it +from me on the day of my examination); which now I took down and +strapp'd at my side. I then chose out a pistol or two, slipped them +into my sash, and advanced to the centre table. + +Under the lamplight lay His Majesty's letter, open. + +My hand was stretch'd out to catch it up, when I heard across the +hall a door open'd, and the sound of men's voices. They were coming +toward the office. + +There was scarce time to slip back, and hide behind the screen, +before the door latch was lifted, and two men enter'd, laughing yet. + +"Business, my lord--business," said the first ('twas Colonel Essex): +"I have much to do to-night." + +"Sure," the other answer'd, "I thought we had settled it. You are to +lend me a thousand out of your garrison--" + +"Which, on my own part, I would willingly do. Only I beg you to +consider, my lord, that my position here hangs on a thread. The +extreme men are already against me: they talk of replacing me by +Fiennes--" + +"Nat Fiennes is no soldier." + +"No: but he's a bigot--a stronger recommendation. Should this plan +miscarry, and I lose a thousand men---" + +"Heavens alive, man! It _cannot_ miscarry. Hark ye: there's Ruthen of +Plymouth will take the south road with all his forces. A day's march +behind I shall follow--along roads to northward--parallel for a way, +but afterward converging. The Cornishmen are all in Bodmin. We shall +come on them with double their number, aye, almost treble. Can you +doubt the issue?" + +"Scarcely, with the Earl of Stamford for General." + +The Earl was too far occupied to notice this compliment. + +"'Twill be swift and secret," he said, "as Death himself--and as +sure. Let be the fact that Hopton is all at sixes and sevens since +the Marquis shipp'd for Wales: and at daggers drawn with Mohun." + +Said the Colonel slowly--"Aye, the notion is good enough. Were I not +in this corner, I would not think twice. Listen now: only this +morning they forc'd me to order a young man's hanging, who might if +kept alive be forc'd in time to give us news of value. I dar'd not +refuse." + +"He that you caught with the King's letter?" + +"Aye--a trumpery missive, dealing with naught but summoning of the +sheriff's posse and the like. There is more behind, could we but +wait to get at it." + +"The gallows may loosen his tongue. And how of the girl that was +taken too?" + +"I have her in safe keeping. This very evening I shall visit her, +and make another trial to get some speech. Which puts me in mind--" + +The Colonel tinkled a small hand bell that lay on the table. + +The pause that followed was broken by the Earl. + +"May I see the letter?" + +The Colonel handed it, and tinkled the bell again, more impatiently. +At length steps were heard in the hall, and a servant open'd the +door. + +"Where is Giles?" ask'd the Colonel. "Why are you taking his place?" + +"Giles can't be found, your honor." + +"Hey?" + +"He's a queer oldster, your honor, an' maybe gone to bed wi' his +aches and pains." + +(I knew pretty well that Giles had done no such thing: but be sure +I kept the knowledge safe behind my screen.) + +"Then go seek him, and say--No, stop: I can't wait. Order the coach +around at the barbican in twenty minutes from now--twenty minutes, +mind, without fail. And say--'twill save time--the fellow's to drive +me to Mistress Finch's house in St. Thomas' Street--sharp!" + +As the man departed on his errand, the Earl laid down His Majesty's +letter. + +"Hang the fellow," he said, "if they want it: the blame, if any, +will be theirs. But, in the name of Heaven, Colonel, don't fail in +lending me this thousand men! 'Twill finish the war out of hand." + +"I'll do it," answered the Colonel slowly. + +"And I'll remember it," said the Earl. "To-morrow, at six o'clock, +I set out." + +The two men shook hands on their bargain and left the room, shutting +the door after them. + +I crept forth from behind the screen, my heart thumping on my ribs. +Thus far it had been all fear and trembling with me; but now this +was chang'd to a kind of panting joy. 'Twas not that I had spied the +prison keys hanging near the fireplace, nor that behind the screen +lay a heap of the Colonel's riding boots, whereof a pair, ready +spurr'd, fitted me choicely well; but that my ears tingled with news +that turn'd my escape to a matter of public welfare: and also that +the way to escape lay plann'd in my head. + +Shod in the Colonel's boots, I advanc'd again to the table. With +sealing-wax and the Governor's seal, that lay handy, I clos'd up the +King's letter, and sticking it in my breast, caught down the bunch +of keys and made for the door. + +The hall was void. I snatch'd down a cloak and heavy broad-brimm'd +hat from one of the pegs, and donning them, slipp'd back the bolts +of the heavy door. It opened without noise. Then, with a last hitch +of the cloak, to bring it well about me, I stepp'd forth into the +night, shutting the door quietly on my heels. + +My feet were on the pavement of the inner ward. Above, one star only +broke the blackness of the night. Across the court was a sentry +tramping. As I walk'd boldly up, he stopped short by the gate +between the wards and regarded me. + +Now was my danger. I knew not the right key for the wicket: and if +I fumbled, the fellow would detect me for certain. I chose one and +drew nearer; the fellow look'd, saluted, stepp'd to the wicket, and +open'd it himself. + +"Good night, Colonel!" + +I did not trust myself to answer: but passed rapidly through to the +outer ward. Here, to my joy, in the arch'd passage of the barbican +gate, was the carriage waiting, the porter standing beside the door; +and here also, to my dismay, was a torch alight, and under it half +a dozen soldiers chatting. A whisper pass'd on my approach-- + +"The Colonel!" and they hurried into the guardroom. + +"Good evening, Colonel!" The porter bow'd low, holding the door wide. + +I pass'd him rapidly, climb'd into the shadow of the coach, and drew +a long breath. + +Then ensued a hateful pause, as the great gates were unbarr'd. I +gripp'd ray knees for impatience. + +The driver spoke a word to the porter, who came round to the coach +door again. + +"To Mistress Finch's, is it not?" + +"Ay," I muttered; "and quickly." + +The coachman touched up his pair. The wheels mov'd; went quicker. We +were outside the Castle. + +With what relief I lean'd back as the Castle gates clos'd behind us! +And with what impatience at our slow pace I sat upright again next +minute! The wheels rumbled over the bridge, and immediately we were +rolling easily down hill, through a street of some importance: but +by this time the shutters were up along the shop fronts and very few +people abroad. At the bottom we turn'd sharp to the left along a +broader thoroughfare: and then suddenly drew up. + +"Are we come?" I wonder'd. But no: 'twas the city gate, and here we +had to wait for three minutes at least, till the sentries recogniz'd +the Colonel's coach and open'd the doors to us. They stood on this +side and that, presenting arms, as we rattled through; and next +moment I was crossing a broad bridge, with the dark Avon on either +side of me, and the vessels thick thereon, their lanterns casting +long lines of yellow on the jetty water, their masts and cordage +looming up against the dull glare of the city. + +Soon we were between lines of building once more, shops, private +dwellings and warehouses intermix'd; then pass'd a tall church; and +in about two minutes more drew up again. I look'd out. + +Facing me was a narrow gateway leading to a house that stood +somewhat back from the street, as if slipping away from between the +lines of shops that wedg'd it in on either hand. Over the grill a +link was burning. I stepp'd from the coach, open'd the gate, and +crossing the small court, rang at the house bell. + +At first there was no answer. I rang again: and now had the +satisfaction to hear a light footfall coming. A bolt was pull'd and +a girl appear'd holding a candle high in her hand. Quick as thought, +I stepped past her into the passage. + +"Delia!" + +"Jack!" + +"Hist! Close the door. Where is Mistress Finch?" + +"Upstairs, expecting Colonel Essex. Oh, the happy day! Come--" she +led me into a narrow back room and setting down the light regarded +me--"Jack, my eyes are red for thee!" + +"I see they are. To-morrow I was to be hang'd." + +She put her hands together, catching her breath: and very lovely I +thought her, in her straight grey gown and Puritan cap. + +"They have been questioning me. Didst get my letter?" + +The answer was on my lip when there came a sound that made us both +start. + +'Twas the dull echo of a gun firing, up at the Castle. + +"Delia, what lies at the back here?" + +"A garden and a garden door: after these a lane leading to Redcliff +Street." + +"I must go, this moment." + +"And I?" + +She did not wait my answer, but running out into the passage, she +came swiftly back with a heavy key. I open'd the window. + +"Delia! De-lia!" 'Twas a woman's voice calling her, at the head of +the stairs. + +"Aye, Mistress Finch." + +"Who was that at the door?" + +I sprang into the garden and held forth a hand to Delia. "In one +moment, mistress!" call'd she, and in one moment was hurrying with +me across the dark garden beds. As she fitted the key to the garden +gate, I heard the voice again. + +"De-lia!" + +'Twas drown'd in a--wild _rat-a-tat!_ on the street door, and the +shouts of many voices. We were close press'd. + +"Now, Jack--to the right for our lives! Ah, these clumsy skirts!" + +We turn'd into the lane and rac'd down it. For my part, I swore to +drown myself in Avon rather than let those troopers retake me. I +heard their outcries about the house behind us, as we stumbled over +the frozen rubbish heaps with which the lane was bestrewn. + +"What's our direction?" panted I, catching Delia's hand to help her +along. + +"To the left now--for the river." + +We struck into a narrow side street; and with that heard a watchman +bawl--- + +"_Past nine o' the night, an' a--!_" + +The shock of our collision sent him to finish his say in the gutter. + +"Thieves!" he yell'd. + +But already we were twenty yards away, and now in a broader street, +whereof one side was wholly lin'd with warehouses. And here, to our +dismay, we heard shouts behind, and the noise of feet running. + +About halfway down the street I spied a gateway standing ajar, and +pull'd Delia aside, into a courtyard litter'd with barrels and +timbers, and across it to a black empty barn of a place, where a +flight of wooden steps glimmer'd, that led to an upper story. We +climb'd these stairs at a run, + +"Faugh! What a vile smell!" + +The loft was pil'd high with great bales of wool, as I found by the +touch, and their odor enough to satisfy an army. Nevertheless, I was +groping about for a place to hide, when Delia touch'd me by the arm, +and pointed. + +Looking, I descried in the gloom a tall quadrilateral of purple, not +five steps away, with a speck of light shining near the top of it, +and three dark streaks running down the middle, whereof one was much +thicker than the rest. 'Twas an open doorway; the speck, a star +fram'd within it; the broad streak, a ship's mast reaching up; and +the lesser ones two ends of a rope, working over a pulley above my +head, and used for lowering the bales of wool on shipboard. + +Advancing, I stood on the sill and look'd down. On the black water, +twenty feet below, lay a three-masted trader, close against the +warehouse. My toes stuck out over her deck, almost. + +At first glance I could see no sign of life on board: but presently +was aware of a dark figure leaning over the bulwarks, near the bows. +He was quite motionless. His back was toward us, blotted against the +black shadow; and the man engag'd only, it seem'd, in watching the +bright splash of light flung by the ship's lantern on the water +beneath him. + +I resolv'd to throw myself on the mercy of this silent figure; and +put out a hand to test the rope. One end of it was fix'd to a bale +of wool that lay, as it had been lower'd, on the deck. Flinging +myself on the other, I found it sink gently from the pulley, as the +weight below moved slowly upward: and sinking with it, I held on +till my feet touch'd the deck. + +Still the figure in the bows was motionless. + +I paid out my end of the rope softly, lowering back the bale of +wool: and, as soon as it rested again on deck, signalled to Delia to +let herself down. + +She did so. As she alighted, and stood beside me, our hands bungled. +The rope slipp'd up quickly, letting down the bale with a run. + +We caught at the rope, and stopp'd it just in time: but the pulley +above creak'd vociferously. I turn'd my head. + +The man in the bows had not mov'd. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +CAPTAIN POTTERY AND CAPTAIN SETTLE. + + +"Now either I am mad or dreaming," thought I: for that the fellow +had not heard our noise was to me starkly incredible. I stepp'd +along the deck toward him: not an inch did he budge. I touch'd him +on the shoulder. + +He fac'd round with a quick start. + +"Sir," said I, quick and low, before he could get a word out--"Sir, +we are in your hands. I will be plain. To-night I have broke out of +Bristol Keep, and the Colonel's men are after me. Give me up to them, +and they hang me to-morrow: give my comrade up, and they persecute +her vilely. Now, sir, I know not which side you be, but there's our +case in a nutshell." + +The man bent forward, displaying a huge, rounded face, very kindly +about the eyes, and set atop of the oddest body in the world: for +under a trunk extraordinary broad and strong, straddled & pair of +legs that a baby would have disown'd--so thin and stunted were they, +and (to make it the queerer) ended in feet the most prodigious you +ever saw. + +As I said, this man lean'd forward, and shouted into my ear so that +I fairly leap'd in the air-- + +"My name's Pottery--Bill Pottery, cap'n o' the _Godsend_--an' you +can't make me hear, not if you bust yoursel'!" + +You may think this put me in a fine quandary. + +"I be deaf as nails!" bawl'd he. + +'Twas horrible: for the troopers (I thought) if anywhere near, could +not miss hearing him. His voice shook the very rigging. + +"... An' o' my crew the half ashore gettin' drunk, an' the half +below in a very accomplished state o' liquor: so there's no chance +for 'ee to speak!" + +He paus'd a moment, then roared again--- + +"What a pity! 'Cos you make me very curious--that you do!" + +Luckily, at this moment, Delia had the sense to put a finger to her +lip. The man wheel'd round without another word, led us aft over the +blocks, cordage, and all manner of loose gear that encumber'd the +deck, to a ladder that, toward the stern, led down into darkness. +Here he sign'd to us to follow; and, descending first, threw open a +door, letting out a faint stream of light in our faces. 'Twas the +captain's cabin, lin'd with cupboards and lockers: and the light +came from an oil lamp hanging over a narrow deal table. By this +light Captain Billy scrutiniz'd us for an instant: then, from one of +his lockers, brought out pen, paper, and ink, and set them on the +table before me. + +[Illustration: "Master Pottery shaking us both by the hand."] + +I caught up the pen, dipp'd it, and began to write-- + +"I am John Marvel, a servant of King Charles; and this night am +escap'd out of Bristol Castle. If you be--" + +Thus far I had written without glancing up, in fear to read the +disappointment of my hopes. But now the pen was caught suddenly from +my fingers, the paper torn in shreds, and there was Master Pottery +shaking us both by the hand, nodding and becking, and smiling the +while all over his big red face. + +But he ceas'd at last: and opening another of his lockers, drew +forth a horn lantern, a mallet, and a chisel. Not a word was spoken +as he lit the lantern and pass'd out of the cabin, Delia and I +following at his heels. + +Just outside, at the foot of the steps, he stoop'd, pull'd up a trap +in the flooring, and disclos'd another ladder stretching, as it +seem'd, down into the bowels of the ship. This we descended +carefully; and found ourselves in the hold, pinching our noses +'twixt finger and thumb. + +For indeed the smell here was searching to a very painful degree: +for the room was narrow, and every inch of it contested by two +puissant essences, the one of raw wood, the other of bilge water. +With wool the place was pil'd: but also I notic'd, not far from the +ladder, several casks set on their ends; and to these the captain +led us. + +They were about a dozen in all, stacked close together: and Master +Pottery, rolling two apart from the rest, dragg'd them to another +trap and tugg'd out the bungs. A stream of fresh water gush'd from +each and splash'd down the trap into the bilge below. Then, having +drained them, he stay'd in their heads with a few blows of his +mallet. + +His plan for us was clear. And in a very few minutes Delia and I +were crouching on the timbers, each with a cask inverted over us, +our noses at the bungholes and our ears listening to Master +Pottery's footsteps as they climb'd heavily back to deck. The rest +of the casks were stack'd close round us, so that even had the gloom +allow'd, we could see nothing at all. + +"Jack!" + +"Delia!" + +"Dost feel heroical at all?" + +"Not one whit. There's a trickle of water running down my back, to +begin with." + +"And my nose it itches; and oh, what a hateful smell! Say something +to me, Jack." + +"My dear," said I, "there is one thing I've been longing these weeks +to say: but this seems an odd place for it." + +"What is't?" + +I purs'd up my lips to the bunghole, and--- + +"I love you," said I. + +There was silence for a moment: and then, within Delia's cask, the +sound of muffled laughter. + +"Delia," I urg'd, "I mean it, upon my oath. Wilt marry me, +sweetheart?" + +"Must get out of this cask first. Oh, Jack, what a dear goose thou +art!" And the laughter began again. + +I was going to answer, when I heard a loud shouting overhead. 'Twas +the sound of someone hailing the ship, and thought I, "the troopers +are on us!" + +They were, in truth. Soon I heard the noise of feet above and a +string of voices speaking one after another, louder and louder. And +next Master Pottery began to answer up and drown'd all speech but +his own. When he ceas'd, there was silence for some minutes: after +which we heard a party descend to the cabin, and the trampling of +their feet on the boards above us. They remain'd there some while +discussing: and then came footsteps down the second ladder, and a +twinkle of light reach'd me through the bunghole of my cask. + +"Quick!" said a husky voice; "overhaul the cargo here!" + +I heard some half dozen troopers bustling about the hold and tugging +out the bales of wool. + +"Hi!" call'd Master Pottery: "an' when you've done rummaging my ship, +put everything back as you found it." + +"Poke about with your swords," commanded the husky voice. "What's in +those barrels yonder?" + +"Water, sergeant," answers a trooper, rolling out a couple. + +"Nothing behind them?" + +"No; they're right against the side." + +"Drop 'em then. Plague on this business! 'Tis my notion they're a +mile a-way, and Cap'n Stubbs no better than a fool to send us back +here. He's grudging promotion, that's what he is! Hurry, there-- +hurry!" + +Ten minutes later, the searchers were gone; and we in our casks +drawing long breaths of thankfulness and strong odors. And so we +crouch'd till, about midnight, Captain Billy brought us down a +supper of ship's biscuit: which we crept forth to eat, being sorely +cramp'd. + +He could not hear our thanks: but guess'd them. + +"Now say not a word! To-morrow we sail for Plymouth Sound: thence +for Brittany. Hist! We be all King's men aboard the _Godsend_, tho' +hearing nought I says little. Yet I have my reasoning heresies, +holding the Lord's Anointed to be an anointed rogue, but nevertheless +to be serv'd: just as aboard the _Godsend_ I be Cap'n Billy an' you +plain Jack, be your virtues what they may. An' the conclusion is--damn +all mutineers an' rebels! Tho', to be sure, the words be a bit lusty +for a young gentlewoman's ears." + +We went back to our casks with lighter hearts. Howbeit 'twas near +five in the morning, I dare say, before my narrow bedchamber allow'd +me to drop asleep. + +I woke to spy through my bunghole the faint light of day struggling +down the hatches. Above, I heard a clanking noise, and the voices of +the men hiccoughing a dismal chant. They were lifting anchor. I +crawl'd forth and woke Delia, who was yet sleeping: and together we +ate the breakfast that lay ready set for us on the head of a barrel. + +Presently the sailors broke off their song, and we heard their feet +shuffling to and fro on deck. + +"Sure," cried Delia, "we are moving!" + +And surely we were, as could be told by the alter'd sound of the +water beneath us, and the many creakings that the _Godsend_ began to +keep. Once more I tasted freedom again, and the joy of living, and +could have sung for the mirth that lifted my heart. "Let us but gain +open sea," said I, "and I'll have tit-for-tat with these rebels!" + +But alas! before we had left Avon mouth twenty minutes, 'twas +another tale. For I lay on my side in that dark hold and long'd to +die: and Delia sat up beside me, her hands in her lap, and her great +eyes fix'd most dolefully. And when Captain Billy came down with +news that we were safe and free to go on deck, we turn'd our faces +from him, and said we thank'd him kindly, but had no longer any wish +that way--too wretched, even, to remember his deafness. + +Let me avoid, then, some miserable hours, and come to the evening, +when, faint with fasting and nausea, we struggled up to the deck for +air, and look'd about us. + +'Twas grey--grey everywhere: the sky lead-colored, with deeper +shades toward the east, where a bank of cloud blotted the coast +line: the thick rain descending straight, with hardly wind enough to +set the sails flapping; the sea spread like a plate of lead, save +only where, to leeward, a streak of curded white crawled away from +under the _Godsend's_ keel. + +On deck, a few sailors mov'd about, red eyed and heavy. They show'd +no surprise to see us, but nodded very friendly, with a smile for +our strange complexions. Here again, as ever, did adversity mock her +own image. + +But what more took our attention was to see a row of men stretch'd +on the starboard side, like corpses, their heads in the scuppers, +their legs pointed inboard, and very orderly arranged. They were a +dozen and two in all, and over them bent Captain Billy with a mop in +his hand, and a bucket by his side: who beckon'd that we should +approach. + +"Array'd in order o' merit," said he, pointing with his mop like a +showman to the line of figures before him. + +We drew near. + +"This here is Matt. Soames, master o' this vessel--an' he's dead." + +"Dead?" + +"Dead-drunk, that is. O the gifted man! Come up!" He thrust the mop +in the fellow's heavy face. "There now! Did he move, did he wink? +'No,' says you. O an accomplished drunkard!" + +He paus'd a moment; then stirr'd up No. 2, who open'd one eye lazily, +and shut it again in slumber. + +"You saw? Open'd one eye, hey? That's Benjamin Halliday. The next is +a black man, as you see: a man of dismal color, and hath other +drawbacks natural to such. Can the Aethiop shift his skin? No, but +he'll open both eyes. See there--a perfect Christian, in so far as +drink can make him." + +With like comments he ran down the line till he came to the last man, +in front of whom he stepp'd back. + +"About this last--he's a puzzler. Times I put him top o' the list, +an' times at the tail. That's Ned Masters, an' was once the Reverend +Edward Masters, Bachelor o' Divinity in Cambridge College; but in a +tavern there fell a-talking with a certain Pelagian about Adam an' +Eve, an' because the fellow turn'd stubborn, put a knife into his +waistband, an' had to run away to sea: a middling drinker only, but +after a quart or so to hear him tackle Predestination! So there be +times after all when I sets'n apart, and says, 'Drunk, you'm no +good, but half-drunk, you'm priceless.' Now there's a man--" He +dropp'd his mop, and, leading us aft, pointed with admiring finger +to the helmsman--a thin, wizen'd fellow, with a face like a crab +apple, and a pair of piercing grey eyes half hidden by the droop of +his wrinkled lids. "Gabriel Hutchins, how old be you?" + +"Sixty-four, come next Martinmas," pip'd the helmsman. + +"In what state o' life?" + +"Drunk." + +"How drunk?" + +"As a lord!" + +"Canst stand upright?" + +"Hee-hee! Now could I iver do other?--a miserable ould worms to whom +the sweet effects o' quantums be denied. When was I iver wholesomely +maz'd? Or when did I lay my grey hairs on the floor, saying, 'Tis +enough, an' 'tis good'? Answer me that, Cap'n Bill." + +"But you hopes for the best, Gabriel." + +"Aye, I hopes--I hopes." + +The old man sigh'd as he brought the _Godsend_ a point nearer the +wind; and, as we turn'd away with the Captain, was still muttering, +his sharp grey eyes fix'd on the vessel's prow. + +"He's my best," said Captain Billy Pottery. + +With this crew we pass'd four days; and I write this much of them +because they afterward, when sober, did me a notable good turn, as +you shall read toward the end of this history. But lest you should +judge them hardly, let me say here that when they recovered of their +stupor--as happen'd to the worst after thirty-six hours--there was +no brisker, handier set of fellows on the seas. And this Captain +Billy well understood: "but" (said he) "I be a collector an' a man +o' conscience both, which is uncommon. Doubtless there be good sots +that are not good seamen, but from such I turn my face, drink they +never so prettily." + +'Twas necessary I should impart some notion of my errand to Captain +Billy, tho' I confin'd myself to hints, telling him only 'twas +urgent I should be put ashore somewhere on the Cornish coast, for +that I carried intelligence which would not keep till we reached +Plymouth, a town that, besides, was held by the rebels. And he +agreed readily to land me in Bude Bay: "and also thy comrade, if (as +I guess) she be so minded," he added, glancing up at Delia from the +paper whereon I had written my request. + +She had been silent of late, beyond her wont, avoiding (I thought) +to meet my eye: but answer'd simply, + +"I go with Jack." + +Captain Billy, whose eyes rested on her as she spoke, beckon'd me, +very mysterious, outside the cabin, and winking slily, whisper'd +loud enough to stun one---- + +"Ply her, Jack"--he had call'd me "Jack" from the first--"ply her +briskly! Womankind is but yielding flesh: 'am an amorous man mysel', +an' speak but that I have prov'd." + +On this--for the whole ship could hear it--there certainly came the +sound of a stifled laugh from the other side of the cabin door: but +it did not mend my comrade's shy humor, that lasted throughout the +voyage. + +To be brief, 'twas not till the fourth afternoon (by reason of +baffling head winds) that we stepped out of the _Godsend's_ boat upon +a small beach of shingle, whence, between a rift in the black cliffs, +wound up the road that was to lead us inland. The _Godsend_, as we +turn'd to wave our hands, lay at half a mile's distance, and made a +pretty sight: for the day, that had begun with a white frost, was now +turn'd sunny and still, so that looking north we saw the sea all +spread with pink and lilac and hyacinth, and upon it the ship lit up, +her masts and sails glowing like a gold piece. And there was Billy, +leaning over the bulwarks and waving his trumpet for "Good-bye!" +Thought I, for I little dream'd to see these good fellows again, "what +a witless game is this life! to seek ever in fresh conjunctions what +we leave behind in a hand shake." 'Twas a cheap reflection, yet it +vex'd me that as we turn'd to mount the road Delia should break out +singing--- + +"Hey! nonni--nonni--no! Is't not fine to laugh and sing When the +hells of death do ring!--" + +"Why, no," said I, "I don't think it": and capp'd her verse with +another-- + +"Silly man, the cost to find Is to leave as good behind--" + +"Jack, for pity's sake, stop!" She put her fingers to her ears. +"What a nasty, creaking voice thou hast, to be sure!" + +"That's as a man may hold," said I, nettled. + +"No, indeed: yours is a very poor voice, but mine is beautiful. So +listen." + +She went on to sing as she went, "Green as grass is my kirtle," +"Tire me in tiffany," "Come ye bearded men-at-arms," and "The +Bending Rush." All these she sang, as I must confess, most +delicately well, and then fac'd me, with a happy smile--- + +"Now, have not I a sweet voice? Why, Jack--art still glum?" + +"Delia," answer'd I, "you have first to give me a reply to what, +four days agone, I ask'd you. Dear girl--nay then, dear comrade--" + +I broke off, for she had come to a stop, wringing her hands and +looking in my face most dolefully. + +"Oh, dear--oh, dear! Jack, we have had such merry times: and you are +spoiling all the fun!" + +We follow'd the road after this very moodily; for Delia, whom I had +made sharer of the rebels' secret, agreed that no time was to be +lost in reaching Bodmin, that lay a good thirty miles to the +southwest. Night fell and the young moon rose, with a brisk breeze +at our backs that kept us still walking without any feeling of +weariness. Captain Billy had given me at parting a small compass, of +new invention, that a man could carry easily in his pocket; and this +from time to time I examin'd in the moonlight, guiding our way +almost due south, in hopes of striking into the main road westward. +I doubt not we lost a deal of time among the byways; but at length +happen'd on a good road bearing south, and follow'd it till daybreak, +when to our satisfaction we spied a hill in front, topp'd with a +stout castle, and under it a town of importance, that we guess'd to +be Launceston. + +By this, my comrade and I were on the best of terms again; and now +drew up to consider if we should enter the town or avoid it to the +west, trusting to find a breakfast in some tavern on the way. +Because we knew not with certainty the temper of the country, it +seem'd best to choose this second course: so we fetch'd around by +certain barren meadows, and thought ourselves lucky to hit on a road +that, by the size, must be the one we sought, and a tavern with a +wide yard before it and a carter's van standing at the entrance, not +three gunshots from the town walls. + +"Now Providence hath surely led us to breakfast," said Delia, and +stepped before me into the yard, toward the door. + +I was following her when, inside of a gate to the right of the house, +I caught the gleam of steel, and turn'd aside to look. + +To my dismay there stood near a score of chargers in this second +court, saddled and dripping with sweat. My first thought was to run +after Delia; but a quick surprise made me rub my eyes with wonder--- + +'Twas the sight of a sorrel mare among them--a mare with one high +white stocking. In a thousand I could have told her for Molly. + +Three seconds after I was at the tavern door, and in my ears a voice +sounding that stopp'd me short and told me in one instant that +without God's help all was lost. + +'Twas the voice of Captain Settle speaking in the taproom; and +already Delia stood, past concealment, by the open door. + +"... And therefore, master carter, it grieves me to disappoint thee; +but no man goeth this day toward Bodmin. Such be my Lord of +Stamford's orders, whose servant I am, and as captain of this troop +I am sent to exact them. As they displease you, his lordship is but +twenty-four hours behind: you can abide him and complain. Doubtless +he will hear--_ten million devils!_" + +I heard his shout as he caught sight of Delia. I saw his crimson +face as he darted out and gripp'd her. I saw, or half saw, the +troopers crowding out after him. For a moment I hesitated. Then came +my pretty comrade's voice, shrill above the hubbub--- + +"Jack--they have horses outside! Leave me--I am ta'en--and ride, +dear lad--ride!" + +In a flash my decision was taken, for better or worse. I dash'd out +around the house, vaulted the gate, and catching at Molly's mane, +leap'd into the saddle. + +A dozen troopers were at the gate, and two had their pistols +levell'd. + +"Surrender!" + +"Be hang'd if I do!" + +I set my teeth and put Molly at the low wall. As she rose like a +bird in air the two pistols rang out together, and a burning pain +seem'd to tear open my left shoulder. In a moment the mare alighted +safe on the other side, flinging me forward on her neck. But I +scrambled back, and with a shout that frighten'd my own ears, dug my +heels into her flanks. + +Half a minute more and I was on the hard road, galloping westward +for dear life. So also were a score of rebel troopers. Twenty miles +and more lay before me; and a bare hundred yards was all my start. + +[Illustration: The two pistols rang out together.] + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND AM WELL TREATED THERE. + + +And now I did indeed abandon myself to despair. Few would have given +a groat for my life, with that crew at my heels; and I least of all, +now that my dear comrade was lost. The wound in my shoulder was +bleeding sore--I could feel the warm stream welling--yet not so sore +as my heart. And I pressed my knees into the saddle flap, and +wondered what the end would be. + +The sorrel mare was galloping, free and strong, her delicate ears +laid back, and the network of veins under her soft skin working with +the heave and fall of her withers: yet--by the mud and sweat about +her--I knew she must have travelled far before I mounted. I heard a +shot or two fired, far up the road: tho' their bullets must have +fallen short: at least, I heard none whiz past. But the rebels' +shouting was clear enough, and the thud of their gallop behind. + +I think that, for a mile or two, I must have ridden in a sort of +swoon. 'Tis certain, not an inch of the road comes back to me: nor +did I once turn my head to look back, but sat with my eyes fastened +stupidly on the mare's neck. And by-and-bye, as we galloped, the +smart of my wound, the heartache, hurry, pounding of hoofs--all +dropp'd to an enchanting lull. I rode, and that was all. + +For, swoon or no, I was lifted off earth, as it seemed, and on easy +wings to an incredible height, where were no longer hedges, nor road, +nor country round; but a great stillness, and only the mare and I +running languidly through it. + +"Ride!" + +Now, at first, I thought 'twas someone speaking this in my ear, and +turn'd my head. But 'twas really the last word I had heard from Delia, +now after half an hour repeated in my brain. And as I grew aware of +this, the dullness fell off me, and all became very distinct. And +the muscles about my wound had stiffen'd--which was vilely painful: +and the country, I saw, was a brown, barren moor, dotted with peat- +ricks: and I cursed it. + +This did me good: for it woke the fighting-man in me, and I set my +teeth. Now for the first time looking back, I saw, with a great gulp +of joy, I had gained on the troopers. A long dip of the road lay +between me and the foremost, now topping the crest. The sun had +broke through at last, and sparkled on his cap and gorget. I +whistled to Molly (I could not pat her), and spoke to her softly: +the sweet thing prick'd up her ears, laid them back again, and +mended her pace. Her stride was beautiful to feel. + +I had yet no clear idea how to escape. In front the moors rose +gradually, swelling to the horizon line, and there broken into steep, +jagged heights. The road under me was sound white granite and +stretch'd away till lost among these fastnesses--in all of it no +sign of man's habitation. Be sure I look'd along it, and to right +and left, dreading to spy more troopers. But for mile on mile, all +was desolate. + +Now and then I caught the cry of a pewit, or saw a snipe glance up +from his bed; but mainly I was busied about the mare. "Let us but +gain the ridge ahead," thought I, "and there is a chance." So I rode +as light as I could, husbanding her powers. + +She was going her best, but the best was near spent. The sweat was +oozing, her satin coat losing the gloss, the spume flying back from +her nostrils--"Soh!" I called to her: "Soh! my beauty; we ride to +save an army!" The loose stones flew right and left, as she reach'd +out her neck, and her breath came shorter and shorter. + +A mile, and another mile, we passed in this trim, and by the end of +it must have spent three-quarters of an hour at the work. Glancing +back, I saw the troopers scattered; far behind, but following. The +heights were still a weary way ahead: but I could mark their steep +sides ribb'd with boulders. Till these were passed, there was no +chance to hide. The parties in this race could see each other all +the way, and must ride it out. + +And all the way the ground kept rising. I had no means to ease the +mare, even by pulling off my heavy jack-boots, with one arm (and +that my right) dangling useless. Once she flung up her head and I +caught sight of her nostril, red as fire, and her poor eyes starting. +I felt her strength ebbing between my knees. Here and there she +blundered in her stride. And somewhere, over the ridge yonder, lay +the Army of the West, and we alone could save it. + +The road, for half a mile, now fetched a sudden loop, though the +country on either side was level enough. Had my head been cool, I +must have guessed a reason for this: but, you must remember, I had +long been giddy with pain and loss of blood--so, thinking to save +time, I turned Molly off the granite, and began to cut across. + +The short grass and heath being still frozen, we went fairly for the +first minute or so. But away behind us, I heard a shout--and it must +have been loud to reach me. I learn'd the meaning when, about two +hundred yards before we came on the road again, the mare's forelegs +went deep, and next minute we were plunging in a black peat-quag. + +Heaven can tell how we won through. It must have been still partly +frozen, and perhaps we were only on the edge of it. I only know that +as we scrambled up on solid ground, plastered and breathless, I +looked at the wintry sun, the waste, and the tall hill tow'ring to +the right of us, and thought it a strange place to die in. + +For the struggle had burst open my wound again, and the blood was +running down my arm and off my fingers in a stream. And now I could +count every gorsebush, every stone--and now I saw nothing at all. +And I heard the tinkling of bells: and then found a tune running in +my head--'twas "Tire me in tiffany," and I tried to think where last +I heard it. + +But sweet gallant Molly must have held on: for the next thing I woke +up to was a four-hol'd cross beside the road: and soon after we were +over the ridge and clattering down hill. + +A rough tor had risen full in front, but the road swerved to the +left and took us down among the spurs of it. Now was my last lookout. +I tried to sway less heavily in the saddle, and with my eyes +searched the plain at our feet. + +Alas! Beneath us the waste land was spread, mile upon mile: and I +groaned aloud. For just below I noted a clump of roofless cabins, +and beyond, upon the moors, the dotted walls of sheep-cotes, ruined +also: but in all the sad-color'd leagues no living man, nor the sign +of one. It was done with us. I reined up the mare--and then, in the +same motion, wheeled her sharp to the right. + +High above, on the hillside, a voice was calling. + +I look'd up. Below the steeper ridge of the tor a patch of land had +been cleared for tillage: and here a yoke of oxen was moving +leisurely before a plough ('twas their tinkling bells I had heard, +just now); while behind followed the wildest shape--by the voice, a +woman. + +She was not calling to me, but to her team: and as I put Molly at +the slope, her chant rose and fell in the mournfullest singsong. + +"So-hoa! Oop Comely Vean! oop, then--o-oop!" + +I rose in my stirrups and shouted. + +At this and the sound of hoofs, she stay'd the plough and, hand on +hip, looked down the slope. The oxen, softly rattling the chains on +their yoke, turn'd their necks and gazed. With sunk head Molly +heaved herself up the last few yards and came to a halt with a +stagger. I slipp'd out of the saddle and stood, with a hand on it, +swaying. + +"What's thy need, young man--that comest down to Temple wi' sword a- +danglin'?" + +The girl was a half-naked savage, dress'd only in a strip of sacking +that barely reach'd her knees, and a scant bodice of the same, lac'd +in front with pack thread, that left her bosom and brown arms free. +Yet she appear'd no whit abash'd, but lean'd on the plough-tail and +regarded me, easy and frank, as a man would. + +"Sell me a horse," I blurted out: "Twenty guineas will I give for +one within five minutes, and more if he be good! I ride on the +King's errand." + +"Then get thee back to thy master, an' say, no horse shall he have +o' me--nor any man that uses horseflesh so." She pointed to Molly's +knees, that were bow'd and shaking, and the bloody froth dripping +from her mouth. + +"Girl, for God's sake sell me a horse! They are after me, and I am +hurt." I pointed up the road. "Better than I are concerned in this." + +"God nor King know I, young man. But what's on thy saddle cloth, +there?" + +'Twas the smear where my blood had soak'd: and looking and seeing +the purple mess cak'd with mud and foam on the sorrel's flank, I +felt suddenly very sick. The girl made a step to me. + +"Sell thee a horse? Hire thee a bedman, more like. Nay, then, lad--" + +But I saw her no longer: only called "oh-oh!" twice, like a little +child, and slipping my hold of the saddle, dropp'd forward on her +breast. + + * * * * * * * + +Waking, I found myself in darkness--not like that of night, but of +a room where the lights have gone out: and felt that I was dying. But +this hardly seem'd a thing to be minded. There was a smell of peat +and bracken about. Presently I heard the tramp of feet somewhere +overhead, and a dull sound of voices that appear'd to be cursing. + +The footsteps went to and fro, the voices muttering most of the time. +After a bit I caught a word--"Witchcraft": and then a voice speaking +quite close--"There's blood 'pon her hands, an' there's blood yonder +by the plough." Said another voice, higher and squeaky, "there's +scent behind a fox, but you don't dig it up an' take it home." The +tramp passed on, and the voices died away. + +By this I knew the troopers were close, and seeking me. A foolish +thought came that I was buried, and they must be rummaging over my +grave: but indeed I had no wish to enquire into it; no wish to move +even, but just to lie and enjoy the lightness of my limbs. The blood +was still running. I felt the warmth of it against my back: and +thought it very pleasant. So I shut my eyes and dropp'd off again. + +Then I heard the noise of shouting, far away: and a long while after +that, was rous'd by the touch of a hand, thrust in against my naked +breast, over my heart. + +"Who is it?" I whispered. + +"Joan," answered a voice, and the hand was withdrawn. + +The darkness had lifted somewhat, and though something stood between +me and the light, I mark'd a number of small specks, like points of +gold dotted around me-- + +"Joan--what besides?" + +"Joan's enough, I reckon: lucky for thee 'tis none else. Joan o' the +Tor folks call me, but may jet be Joan i' Good Time. So hold thy +peace, lad, an' cry out so little as may be." + +I felt a ripping of my jacket sleeve and shirt, now clotted and +stuck to the flesh. It pain'd cruelly, but I shut my teeth: and +after that came the smart and delicious ache of water, as she rinsed +the wound. + +"Clean through the flesh, lad:--in an' out, like country dancin'. No +bullet to probe nor bone to set. Heart up, soce! Thy mother shall +kiss thee yet. What's thy name?" + +"Marvel, Joan--Jack Marvel." + +"An' marvel 'tis thou'rt Marvel yet. Good blood there's in thee, but +little enow." + +She bandaged the sore with linen torn from my shirt, and tied it +round with sackcloth from her own dress. 'Twas all most gently done: +and then I found her arms under me, and myself lifted as easy as a +baby. + +"Left arm round my neck, Jack: an' sing out if 'tis hurtin' thee." + +It seemed but six steps and we were out on the bright hillside, not +fifty paces from where the plough yet stood in the furrow. I caught +a glimpse of a brown neck and a pair of firm red lips, of the grey +tor stretching above us and, further aloft, a flock of field fare +hanging in the pale sky; and then shut my eyes for the dazzle: but +could still feel the beat of Joan's heart as she held me close, and +the touch of her breath on my forehead. + +Down the hill she carried me, picking the softest turf, and moving +with an easeful swing that rather lull'd my hurt than jolted it. I +was dozing, even, when a strange noise awoke me. + +'Twas a high protracted note, that seem'd at first to swell up +toward us, and then broke off in half a dozen or more sharp yells. +Joan took no heed of them, but seeing my eyes unclose, and hearing +me moan, stopped short. + +"Hurts thee, lad?" + +"No." 'Twas not my pain but the sight of the sinking sun that wrung +the exclamation from me--"I was thinking," I muttered. + +"Don't: 'tis bad for health. But bide thee still a-while, and shalt +lie 'pon a soft bed." + +By this time, we had come down to the road: and the yells were still +going on, louder than ever. We cross'd the road, descended another +slope, and came all at once on a low pile of buildings that a moment +before had been hid. 'Twas but three hovels of mud, stuck together +in the shape of a headless cross, the main arm pointing out toward +the moor. Around the whole ran a battered wall, patched with furs; +and from this dwelling the screams were issuing-- + +"Joan!" the voice began, "Joan--Jan Tergagle's a-clawin' my legs-- +Gar-rout, thou hell cat--Blast thee, let me zog! Pull'n off Joan-- +Jo-an!" + +The voice died away into a wail; then broke out in a racket of +curses. Joan stepped to the door and flung it wide. As my eyes grew +used to the gloom inside, they saw this:-- + +A rude kitchen--the furniture but two rickety chairs, now toss'd on +their faces, an oak table, with legs sunk into the earth, a keg of +strong waters, tilted over and draining upon the mud floor, a ladder +leading up to a loft, and in two of the corners a few bundles of +bracken strewn for bedding. To the left, as one entered, was an open +hearth; but the glowing peat-turves were now pitch'd to right and +left over the hearthstone and about the floor, where they rested, +filling the den with smoke. Under one of the chairs a black cat spat +and bristled: while in the middle of the room, barefooted in the +embers, crouched a man. He was half naked, old and bent, with matted +grey hair and beard hanging almost to his waist. His chest and legs +were bleeding from a score of scratches; and he pointed at the cat, +opening and shutting his mouth like a dog, and barking out curse +upon curse. + +No way upset, Joan stepped across the kitchen, laid me on one of the +bracken beds, and explain'd-- + +"That's feyther: he's drunk." + +With which she turn'd, dealt the old man a cuff that stretch'd him +senseless, and gathering up the turves, piled them afresh on the +hearth. This done, she took the keg and gave me a drink of it. The +stuff scalded me, but I thanked her. And then, when she had shifted +my bed a bit, to ease the pain of lying, she righted a chair, drew +it up and sat beside me. The old man lay like a log where he had +fallen, and was now snoring. Presently, the fumes of the liquor, or +mere faintness, mastered me, and my eyes closed. But the picture they +closed upon was that of Joan, as she lean'd forward, chin on hand, +with the glow of the fire on her brown skin and in the depths of her +dark eyes. + +[Illustration: Joan] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HOW JOAN SAVED THE ARMY OF THE WEST; AND SAW THE FIGHT ON BRADDOCK +DOWN. + + +But the pain of my hurt followed into my dreams. I woke with a start, +and tried to sit up. + +Within the kitchen all was quiet. The old savage was still stretch'd +on the floor: the cat curled upon the hearth. The girl had not +stirr'd: but looking toward the window hole, I saw night out side, +and a frosty star sparkling far down in the west. + +"Joan, what's the hour?" + +"Sun's been down these four hours." She turned her face to look at +me. + +"I've no business lying here." + +"Chose to come, lad: none axed thee, that _I_ knows by." + +"Where's the mare? Must set me across her back, Joan, and let me +ride on." + +"Mare's in stable, wi' fetlocks swelled like puddens. Chose to come, +lad; an' choose or no, must bide." + +"'Tis for the General Hopton, at Bodmin, I am bound, Joan; and wound +or no, must win there this night." + +"And that's seven mile away: wi' a bullet in thy skull, and a peat +quag thy burial. For _they_ went south, and thy road lieth more south +than west." + +"The troopers?" + +"Aye, Jack: an' work I had this day wi' those same bloody warriors: +but take a sup at the keg, and bite this manchet of oat cake while +I tell thee." + +And so, having fed me, and set my bed straight, she sat on the floor +beside me (for the better hearing), and in her uncouth tongue, told +how I had been saved. I cannot write her language; but the tale, in +sum, was this:-- + +When I dropp'd forward into her arms, Joan for a moment was taken +aback, thinking me dead. But (to quote her) "'no good,' said I, 'in +cuddlin' a lad 'pon the hillside, for folks to see, tho' he _have_ +a-got curls like a wench: an' dead or 'live, no use to wait for others +to make sure.'" + +So she lifted and carried me to a spot hard by, that she called the +"Jew's Kitchen;" and where that was, even with such bearings as I +had, she defied me to discover. There was no time to tend me, whilst +Molly stood near to show my whereabouts: so she let me lie, and went +to lead the sorrel down to stable. + +Her hand was on the bridle when she heard a _Whoop!_ up the road; and +there were half a dozen riders on the crest, and tearing down hill +toward her. Joan had nothing left but to feign coolness, and went on +leading the mare down the slope. + +In a while, up comes the foremost trooper, draws rein, and pants out +"Where's he to?" + +"Who?" asks Joan, making out to be surprised. + +"Why, the lad whose mare thou'rt leadin'?" + +"Mile an' half away by now." + +"How's that?" + +"Freshly horsed," explains Joan. + +The troopers--they were all around her by this--swore 'twas a lie; +but luckily, being down in the hollow, could not see over the next +ridge. They began a string of questions all together: but at last a +little tun bellied sergeant call'd "Silence!" and asked the girl, +"did she loan the fellow a horse?" + +Here I will quote her again:-- + +"'Sir, to thee,' I answer'd, 'no loan at all, but fair swap for our +Grey Robin.' + +"'That's a lie,' he says; 'an' I won't believe thee.' + +"'Might so well,' says I; 'but go to stable, an' see for thysel' +(Never had grey horse to my name, Jack; but, thinks I, that's +_his'n_ lookout.)" + +They went, did these simple troopers, to look at the stable, and +sure enough, there was no Grey Robin. Nevertheless, some amongst +them had logic enough to take this as something less than proof +convincing, and spent three hours and more ransacking the house and +barn, and searching the tor and the moors below it. I learn'd too, +that Joan had come in for some rough talk--to which she put a stop, +as she told me, by offering to fight any man Jack of them for the +buttons on his buffcoat. And at length, about sundown, they gave up +the hunt, and road away over the moors toward Warleggan, having (as +the girl heard them say) to be at Braddock before night. + +"Where is this Braddock?" + +"Nigh to Lord Mohun's house at Boconnoc: seven mile away to the +south, and seven mile or so from Bodmin, as a crow flies." + +"Then go I must," cried I: and hereupon I broke out with all the +trouble that was on my mind, and the instant need to save these +gallant gentlemen of Cornwall, ere two armies should combine against +them. I told of the King's letter in my breast, and how I found the +Lord Stamford's men at Launceston; how that Ruthen, with the +vanguard of the rebels, was now at Liskeard, with but a bare day's +march between the two, and none but I to carry the warning. And "Oh, +Joan!" I cried, "my comrade I left upon the road. Brighter courage +and truer heart never man proved, and yet left by me in the rebels' +hands. Alas! that I could neither save nor help, but must still ride +on: and here is the issue--to lie struck down within ten mile of my +goal--I, that have traveled two hundred. And if the Cornishmen be +not warned to give fight before Lord Stamford come up, all's lost. +Even now they be outnumber'd. So lift me, Joan, and set me astride +Molly, and I'll win to Bodmin yet." + +"Reckon, Jack, thou'd best hand _me_ thy letter." + +Now, I did not at once catch the intent of these words, so simply +spoken; but stared at her like an owl. + +"There's horse in stall, lad," she went on, "tho' no Grey Robin. +Tearaway's the name, and strawberry the color." + +"But, Joan, Joan, if you do this--feel inside my coat here, to the +left--you will save an army, girl, maybe a throne! Here 'tis, Joan, +see--no, not that--here! Say the seal is that of the Governor of +Bristol, who stole it from me for a while: but the handwriting will +be known for the King's: and no hand but yours must touch it till +you stand before Sir Ralph Hopton. The King shall thank you, Joan; +and God will bless you for't." + +"Hope so, I'm sure. But larn me what to say, lad: for I be main +thick witted." + +So I told her the message over and over, till she had it by heart. + +"Shan't forgit, now," she said, at length; "an' so hearken to me for +a change. Bide still, nor fret thysel'. Here's pasty an' oat cake, +an' a keg o' water that I'll stow beside thee. Pay no heed to +feyther, an' if he wills to get drunk an' fight wi' Jan Tergagle-- +that's the cat--why let'n. Drunk or sober, he's no 'count." + +She hid the letter in her bosom, and stepp'd to the door. On the +threshold she turned-- + +"Jack--forgot to ax: what be all this bloodshed about?" + +"For Church and King, Joan." + +"H'm: same knowledge ha' I o' both--an' that's naught. But I dearly +loves fair play." + +She was gone. In a minute or so I heard the trampling of a horse: +and then, with a scurry of hoofs, Joan was off on the King's errand, +and riding into the darkness. + +Little rest had I that night; but lay awake on my bracken bed and +watched the burning peat-turves turn to grey, and drop, flake by +flake, till only a glowing point remained. The door rattled now and +then on the hinge: out on the moor the light winds kept a noise +persistent as town dogs at midnight: and all the while my wound was +stabbing, and the bracken pricking me till I groaned aloud. + +As day began to break, the old man picked himself up, yawned and +lounged out, returning after a time with fresh turves for the hearth. +He noticed me no more than a stone, but when the fire was restack'd, +drew up his chair to the warmth, and breakfasted on oat cake and a +liberal deal of liquor. Observing him, the black cat uncoil'd, +stretch'd himself, and climbing to his master's knee, sat there +purring, and the best of friends. I also judged it time to +breakfast: found my store:* took a bite or two, and a pull at the +keg, and lay back--this time to sleep. + +When I woke, 'twas high noon. The door stood open, and outside on +the wall the winter sunshine was lying, very bright and clear. +Indoors, the old savage had been drinking steadily; and still sat +before the fire, with the cat on one knee, and his keg on the other. +I sat up and strain'd my ears. Surely, if Joan had not failed, the +royal generals would march out and give battle at once: and surely, +if they were fighting, not ten miles away, some sound of it would +reach me. But beyond the purring of the cat, I heard nothing. + +I crawl'd to my feet, rested a moment to stay the giddiness, and +totter'd across to the door, where I lean'd, listening and gazing +south. No strip of vapor lay on the moors that stretch'd--all bathed +in the most wonderful bright colors--to the lip of the horizon. The +air was like a sounding board. I heard the bleat of an old wether, +a mile off, upon the tors; and was turning away dejected, when, far +down in the south, there ran a sound that set my heart leaping. + +'Twas the crackling of musketry. + +There was no mistaking it. The noise ran like wildfire along the +hills: before echo could overtake it, a low rumbling followed, and +then the brisker crackling again. I caught at the door post and +cried, faint with the sudden joy--- + +"Thou angel, Joan!--thou angel!" + +And then, as something took me by the throat--"Joan, Joan--to see +what thou seest!" + +A long time I lean'd by the door post there, drinking in the sound +that now was renewed at quicker intervals. Yet, for as far as I +could see, 'twas the peacefullest scene, though dreary--quiet +sunshine on the hills, and the sheep dotted here and there, cropping. +But down yonder, over the edge of the moors, men were fighting and +murdering each other: and I yearn'd to see how the day went. + +Being both weak and loth to miss a sound of it, I sank down on the +threshold, and there lay, with my eyes turned southward, through a +gap in the stone fence. In a while the musketry died away, and I +wondered: but thought I could still at times mark a low sound as of +men shouting, and this, as I learn'd after, was the true battle. + +It must have been an hour or more before I saw a number of black +specks coming over the ridge of hills, and swarming down into the +plain toward me: and then a denser body following. 'Twas a company +of horse, moving at a great pace: and I guessed that the battle was +done, and these were the first fugitives of the beaten army. + +On they came, in great disorder, scattering as they advanced: and +now, in parts, the hill behind was black with footmen, running. +'Twas a rout, sure enough. Once or twice, on the heights, I beard a +bugle blown, as if to rally the crowd: but saw nothing come of it, +and presently the notes ceased, or I forgot to listen. + +The foremost company of horse was heading rather to the eastward of +me, to gain the high road; and the gross pass'd me by at half a +mile's distance. But some came nearer, and to my extreme joy, I +learn'd from their arms and shouting, what till now I had been +eagerly hoping, that 'twas the rebel army thus running in rout: and +tho' now without strength to kneel, I had enough left to thank God +heartily. + +'Twas so curious to see the plain thus suddenly fill'd with rabble, +all running from the south, and the silly startled sheep rushing +helter-skelter, and huddling together on the tors above, that I +forgot my own likely danger if any of this revengeful crew should +come upon me lying there: and was satisfied to watch them as they +straggled over the moors toward the road. Some pass'd close to the +cottage; but none seem'd anxious to pause there. 'Twas a glad and a +sorry sight. I saw a troop of dragoons with a standard in their +midst; and a drummer running behind, too far distracted even to cast +his drum away, so that it dangled against his back, with a great +rent where the music had been; and then two troopers running +together; and one that was wounded lay down for a while within a +stone's throw of me, and would not go further, till at last his +comrade persuaded him; and after them a larger company, in midst of +whom was a man crying, "We are sold, I tell ye, and I can point to +the man!" and so passed by. There were some, too, that were +galloping three stout horses in a carriage, and upon it a brass +twelve pounder. But the carriage stuck fast in a quag, and so they +cut the traces and left it there, where, two days after, Sir John +Berkeley's dragoons found and pulled it out. And this was the fourth, +I had heard, that the King's troops took in that victory. + +Yet there were not above five or six hundred in all that I saw; and +I guessed (as was the case) that this must be but an off-shoot, so +to say, of the bigger rout that pass'd eastward through Liskeard. I +was thinking of this when I heard footsteps near, and a man came +panting through a gap in the wall, into the yard. + +He was a big, bareheaded fellow, exceedingly flush'd with running, +but unhurt, as far as I could see. Indeed, he might easily have +kill'd me, and for a moment I thought sure he would. But catching +sight of me, he nodded very friendly, and sitting on a heap of +stones a yard or two away, began to draw off his boot, and search +for a prickle, that it seem'd had got into it. + +"'Tis a mess of it, yonder," said he, quietly, and jerk'd his thumb +over his shoulder. + +By the look of me, he could tell I was on the other side; but this +did not appear to concern him. + +"How has it gone?" asked I. + +"Well," says he, with his nose in the boot; "we had a pretty rising +ground, and the Cornishmen march'd up and whipp'd us out--that's +all--and took a mort o' prisoners." He found the prickle, drew on +his boot again, and asked--- + +"T'other side?" + +I nodded. + +"That's the laughing side, this day. Good evening." + +And with that he went off as fast as he came. + +'Twas, may be, an hour after, that another came in through the same +gap: this time a lean, hawk-eyed man, with a pinch'd face and two +ugly gashes--one across the brow from left eye to the roots of his +hair, the other in his leg below the knee, that had sliced through +boot and flesh like a scythe-cut. His face was smear'd with blood, +and he carried a musket. + +"Water!" he bark'd out as he came trailing into the yard. "Give me +water--I'm a dead man!" + +He was stepping over me to enter the kitchen, when he halted and +said--- + +"Art a malignant, for certain!" + +And before I had a chance to reply, his musket was swung up, and I +felt my time was come to die. + +But now the old savage, that had been sitting all day before his +fire, without so much as a sign to show if he noticed aught that was +passing, jump'd up with a yell and leap'd toward us. He and the cat +were on the poor wretch together, tearing and clawing. I can hear +their hellish outcries to this day: but at the moment they turn'd me +faint. And the next thing I recall is being dragged inside by the +old man, who shut the door after me and slipp'd the bolt, leaving +the wounded trooper on the other side. He beat against it for some +time, sobbing piteously for water: and then I heard him groaning at +intervals, till he died. At least, the groans ceased; and next day +he was found with his back against the cottage wall, stark and dead. + +Having pulled me inside, Joan's father must have thought he had done +enough: for on the floor I lay for hours, and passed from one swoon +into another. He and the cat had gone back to the fire again, and +long before evening both were sound asleep. + +So there I lay helpless, till, at nightfall, there came the +trampling of a horse outside, and then a rap on the door. The old +man started up and opened it: and in rushed Joan, her eyes lit up, +her breast heaving, and in her hand a naked sword. + +"Church and King, Jack!" she cried, and flung the blade with a clang +on to the table. "Church and King! O brave day's work, lad--O bloody +work this day!" + +And I swooned again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +I BUY A LOOKING GLASS AT BODMIN FAIR: AND MEET WITH MR. HANNIBAL +TINGCOMB. + + +There had, indeed, been brave work on Braddock Down that 19th of +January. For Sir Ralph Hopton with the Cornish grandees had made +short business of Ruthen's army--driving it headlong back on +Liskeard at the first charge, chasing it through that town, and +taking 1,200 prisoners (including Sir Shilston Calmady), together +with many colors, all the rebel ordnance and ammunition, and most of +their arms. At Liskeard, after refreshing their men, and holding +next day a solemn thanksgiving to God, they divided--the Lord Mohun +with Sir Ralph Hopton and Colonel Godolphin marching with the +greater part of the army upon Saltash, whither Ruthen had fled and +was entrenching himself; while Sir John Berkeley and Colonel +Ashburnham, with a small party of horse and dragoons and the +voluntary regiments of Sir Bevill Grenville, Sir Nich. Slanning, and +Colonel Trevanion, turned to the northeast, toward Launceston and +Tavistock, to see what account they might render of the Earl of +Stamford's army; that, however, had no stomach to await them, but +posted out of the county into Plymouth and Exeter. + +'Twas on this expedition that two or three of the captains I have +mentioned halted for an hour or more at Temple, as well to recognize +Joan's extreme meritorious service, as to thank me for the part I +had in bringing news of the Earl of Stamford's advance. For 'twas +this, they own'd, had saved them--the King's message being but an +exhortation and an advertisement upon some lesser matters, the most +of which were already taken out of human hands by the turn of events. + +But though, as I learn'd, these gentlemen were full of compliments +and professions of esteem, I neither saw nor heard them, being by +this time delirious of a high fever that followed my wound. And not +till three good weeks after, was I recover'd enough to leave my bed, +nor, for many more, did my full strength return to me. No mother +could have made a tenderer nurse than was Joan throughout this time. +'Tis to her I owe it that I am alive to write these words: and if +the tears scald my eyes as I do so, you will pardon them, I promise, +before the end of my tail is reach'd. + +In the first days of my recovery, news came to us (I forget how) +that a solemn sacrament had been taken between the parties in Devon +and Cornwall, and the country was a peace. Little I cared, at the +time: but was content--now spring was come--to loiter about the tors, +and while watching Joan at her work, to think upon Delia. For, +albeit I had little hope to see her again, my late pretty comrade +held my thoughts the day long. I shared them with nobody: for tho' +'tis probable I had let some words fall in my delirium, Joan never +hinted at this, and I never found out. + +To Joan's company I was left: for her father, after saving my life +that afternoon, took no further notice of me by word or deed; and +the cat, Jan Tergagle (nam'd after a spirit that was said to haunt +the moors hereabouts), was as indifferent. So with Joan I passed the +days idly, tending the sheep, or waiting on her as she ploughed, or +lying full length on the hillside and talking with her of war and +battles. 'Twas the one topic on which she was curious (scoffing at +me when I offered to teach her to read print), and for hours she +would listen to stories of Alexander and Hannibal, Caesar and Joan +of Arc, and other great commanders whose history I remember'd. + +One evening--'twas early in May--we had climb'd to the top of the +grey tor above Temple, whence we could spy the white sails of the +two Channels moving, and, stretch'd upon the short turf there, I was +telling my usual tale. Joan lay beside me, her chin propp'd on one +earth-stain'd hand, her great solemn eyes wide open as she listened. +Till that moment I had regarded her rather as a man comrade than a +girl, but now some feminine trick of gesture awoke me perhaps, for +my fancy began to contrast her with Delia, and I broke off my story +and sigh'd. + +"Art longing to be hence?" she asked. + +I felt ashamed to be thus caught, and was silent. She look'd at me +and went on-- + +"Speak out, lad." + +"Loth would I be to leave you, Joan." + +"And why?" + +"Why, we are good friends, I hope: and I am grateful." + +"Oh, aye--wish thee'd learn to speak the truth, Jack. Art longing to +be hence, and shalt--soon." + +"Why, Joan, you would not have me dwell here always?" + +She made no answer for a while, and then with a change of tone-- + +"Shalt ride wi' me to Bodmin Fair to-morrow for a treat, an' see the +Great Turk and the Fat 'Ooman and hocus-pocus. So tell me more 'bout +Joan the Frenchwoman." + +On the morrow, about nine in the morning, we set off--Joan on the +strawberry, balanced easily on an old sack, which was all her +saddle; and I on Molly, that now was sound again and chafing to be +so idle. As we set out, Joan's father for the first time took some +notice of me, standing at the door to see us off and shouting after +us to bring home some account of the wrestling. Looking back at a +quarter mile's distance I saw him still fram'd in the doorway, with +the cat perch'd on his shoulder. + +Bodmin town is naught but a narrow street, near on a mile long, and +widening toward the western end. It lies mainly along the south side +of a steep vale, and this May morning as Joan and I left the moors +and rode down to it from northward, already we could hear trumpets +blowing, the big drum sounding, and all the bawling voices and +hubbub of the fair. Descending, we found the long street lin'd with +booths and shows, and nigh blocked with the crowd: for the revel +began early and was now in full swing. And the crew of gipsies, +whifflers, mountebanks, fortune tellers, cut-purses and quacks, +mix'd up with honest country faces, beat even the rabble I had seen +at Wantage. + +Now my own first business was with a tailor: for the clothes I wore +when I rode into Temple, four months back, had been so sadly messed +with blood, and afterward cut, to free them from my wound, that now +all the tunic I wore was of sackcloth, contrived and stitch'd +together by Joan. So I made at once for a decent shop, where luckily +I found a suit to fit me, one taken (the tailor said) off a very +promising young gentleman that had the misfortune to be kill'd on +Braddock Down. Arrayed in this, I felt myself again, and offered to +take Joan to see the Fat Woman. + +We saw her, and the Aethiop, and the Rhinoceros (which put me in +mind of poor Anthony Killigrew), and the Pig-fac'd Baby, and the +Cudgel play; and presently halted before a Cheap Jack, that was +crying his wares in a prodigious loud voice, near the town wall. + +'Twas a meagre, sharp-visag'd fellow with a grey chin beard like a +billy goat's; and (as fortune would have it) spying our approach, he +picked out a mirror from his stock and holding it aloft, addressed +us straight-- + +"What have we here," cries he, "but a pair o' lovers coming? and +what i' my hand but a lover's hourglass? Sure the stars of heav'n +must have a hand in this conjuncture--and only thirteen pence, my +pretty fellow, for a glass that will tell the weather i' your +sweetheart's face, and help make it fine." + +There were many country fellows with their maids in the crowd, that +turned their heads at this address; and as usual the women began. + +"Tis Joan o' the Tor!" + +"Joan's picked up wi' a sweetheart--tee-hee!--an' us reckoned her'd +forsworn mankind!" + +"Who is he?" + +"Some furriner, sure: that likes garlic." + +"He's bought her no ribbons yet." + +"How should he, poor lad; that can find no garments upon her to +fasten 'em to?" + +And so on, with a deal of spiteful laughter. Some of these sayings +were half truth, no doubt: but the truthfullest word may be infelix. +So noting a dark flush on Joan's cheek, I thought to end the scene +by taking the Cheap Jack's mirror on the spot, to stop his tongue, +and then drawing her away. + +But in this I was a moment too late; for just as I reached up my +hand with the thirteen pence, and the grinning fellow on the +platform bent forward with his mirror, I heard a coarser jest, a +rush in the crowd, and two heads go _crack!_ together like eggs. +'Twas two of Joan's tormentors she had taken by the hair and served +so: and dropping them the next instant had caught the Cheap Jack's +beard, as you might a bell rope, and wrench'd him head-foremost off +his stand, my thirteen pence flying far and wide. Plump he fell into +the crowd, that scatter'd on all hands as Joan pummelled him: and +_whack, whack!_ fell the blows on the poor idiot's face, who +scream'd for mercy, as though Judgment Day were come. + +No one, for the minute, dared to step between them: and presently +Joan looking up, with arm raised for another buffet, spied a poor +Astrologer close by, in a red and yellow gown, that had been reading +fortunes in a tub of black water beside him, but was now broken off, +dismayed at the hubbub. To this tub she dragged the Cheap Jack and +sent him into it with a round souse. The black water splashed right +and left over the crowd. Then, her wrath sated, Joan faced the rest, +with hands on hips, and waited for them to come on. + +Not a word had she spoken, from first to last: but stood now with +hot cheeks and bosom heaving. Then, finding none to take up her +challenge, she strode out through the folk, and I after her, with +the mirror in my hand; while the Cheap Jack picked himself out of +the tub, whining, and the Astrologer wip'd his long white beard and +soil'd robe. + +Outside the throng was a carriage, stopp'd for a minute by this +tumult, and a servant at the horses' heads. By the look of it, 'twas +the coach of some person of quality; and glancing at it I saw inside +an old gentleman with a grave venerable face, seated. For the moment +it flash'd on me I had seen him before, somewhere: and cudgell'd my +wits to think where it had been. But a second and longer gaze +assured me I was mistaken, and I went on down the street after Joan. + +She was walking fast and angry; nor when I caught her up and tried +to soothe, would she answer me but in the shortest words. Woman's +justice, as I had just learn'd, has this small defect--it goes +straight enough, but mainly for the wrong object. Which now I proved +in my own case. + +"Where are you going, Joan?" + +"To 'Fifteen Balls'' stable, for my horse." + +"Art not leaving the fair yet, surely!" + +"That I be, tho'. Have had fairing enow--wi' a man!" + +Nor for a great part of the way home would she speak to me. But +meeting, by Pound Scawens (a hamlet close to the road), with some +friends going to the fair, she stopp'd for a while to chat with them, +whilst I rode forward: and when she overtook me, her brow was clear +again. + +"Am a hot headed fool, Jack, and have spoil'd thy day for thee." + +"Nay, that you have not," said I, heartily glad to see her humble, +for the first time in our acquaintance: "but if you have forgiven me +that which I could not help, you shall take this that I bought for +you, in proof." + +And pulling out the mirror, I lean'd over and handed it to her. + +"What i' the world be this?" she ask'd, taking and looking at it +doubtfully. + +"Why, a mirror." + +"What's that?" + +"A glass to see your face in," I explained. + +"Be this my face?" She rode forward, holding up the glass in front +of her. "Why, what a handsome looking gal I be, to be sure! Jack, +art certain 'tis my very own face?" + +"To be sure," said I amazed. + +"Well!" There was silence for a full minute, save for our horses' +tread on the high road. And then-- + +"Jack, I be powerful dirty!" + +This was true enough, and it made me laugh. She looked up solemnly +at my mirth (having no sense of a joke, then or ever) and bent +forward to the glass again. + +"By the way," said I, "did you mark a carriage just outside the +crowd, by the Cheap Jack's booth?--with a white-hair'd gentleman +seated inside?" + +Joan nodded. "Master Hannibal Tingcomb: steward o' Gleys." + +"What!" + +I jumped in my saddle, and with a pull at the bridle brought Molly +to a standstill. + +"Of Gleys?" I cried. "Steward of Sir Deakin Killigrew that was?" + +"Right, lad, except the last word. 'That _is_,' should'st rather say." + +"Then you are wrong, Joan: for he's dead and buried, these five +months. Where is this house of Gleys? for to-morrow I must ride +there." + +"'Tis easy found, then: for it stands on the south coast yonder, and +no house near it: five mile from anywhere, and sixteen from Temple, +due south. Shall want thee afore thou startest, Jack. Dear, now! +who'd ha' thought I was so dirty?" + +The cottage door stood open as we rode into the yard, and from it a +faint smoke came curling, with a smell of peat. Within I found the +smould'ring turves scattered about as on the day of my first arrival, +and among them Joan's father stretch'd, flat on his face: only this +time the eat was curl'd up quietly, and lying between the old man's +shoulder blades. + +"Drunk again," said Joan shortly. + +But looking more narrowly, I marked a purplish stain on the ground +by the old man's mouth, and turned him softly over. + +"Joan," said I, "he's not drunk--he's dead!" + +She stood above us and looked down, first at the corpse, then at me, +without speaking for a time: at last--- + +"Then I reckon he may so well be buried." + +"Girl," I call'd out, being shocked at this callousness, "'tis your +father--and he is dead!" + +"Why that's so, lad. An he were alive, shouldn't trouble thee to +bury 'n." + +And so, before night, we carried him up to the bleak tor side, and +dug his grave there; the black cat following us to look. Five feet +deep we laid him, having dug down to solid rock; and having covered +him over, went silently back to the hovel. Joan had not shed a +single tear. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +I DO NO GOOD IN THE HOUSE OF GLEYS. + + +Very early next morning I awoke, and hearing no sound in the loft +above (whither, since my coming, Joan had carried her bed), +concluded her to be still asleep. But in this I was mistaken: for +going to the well at the back to wash, I found her there, studying +her face in the mirror. + +"Luckily met, Jack," she said, when I was cleansed and freshly +glowing: "Now fill another bucket and sarve me the same." + +"Cannot you wash yourself?" I ask'd, as I did so. + +"Lost the knack, I reckon. Stand thee so, an' slush the water over +me." + +"But your clothes!" I cried out, "they'll be soaking wet!" + +"Clothes won't be worse for a wash, neither. So slush away." + +Therefore, standing at three paces' distance, I sent a bucketful +over her, and then another and another. Six times I filled and +emptied the bucket in all: and at the end she was satisfied, and +went, dripping, back to the kitchen to get me my breakfast. + +"Art early abroad," she said, as we sat together over the meal. + +"Yes, for I must ride to Gleys this morning." + +"Shan't be sorry to miss thee for a while. Makes me feel so shy-- +this cleanliness." So, promising to be back by nightfall, I went +presently to saddle Molly: and following Joan's directions and her +warnings against quags and pitfalls, was soon riding south across +the moor and well on my road to the House of Gleys. + +My way leading me by Braddock Down, I turned aside for a while to +examine the ground of the late fight (tho' by now little was to be +seen but a piece of earthwork left unfinish'd by the rebels, and the +fresh mounds where the dead were laid); and so 'twas high noon--and +a dull, cheerless day--before the hills broke and let me have sight +of the sea. Nor, till the noise of the surf was in my ears, did I +mark the chimneys and naked grey walls of the house I was bound for. + +'Twas a gloomy, savage pile of granite, perch'd at the extremity of +a narrow neck of land, where every wind might sweep it, and the +waves beat on three sides the cliff below. The tide was now at the +full, almost, and the spray flying in my face, as we crossed the +head of a small beach, forded a stream, and scrambled up the rough +road to the entrance gate. + +A thin line of smoke blown level from one chimney was all the sign +of life in the building: for the narrow lights of the upper story +were mostly shuttered, and the lower floor was hid from me by a high +wall enclosing a courtlage in front. One stunted ash, with boughs +tortured and bent toward the mainland, stood by the gate, which was +lock'd. A smaller door, also lock'd, was let into the gate, and in +this again a shuttered iron grating. Hard by, dangled a rusty bell- +pull, at which I tugg'd sturdily. + +On this, a crack'd bell sounded, far in the house, and scared a +flock of starlings out of a disused chimney. Their cries died away +presently, and left no sound but that of the gulls wailing about the +cliff at my feet. This was all the answer I won. + +I rang again, and a third time: and now at last came the sound of +footsteps shuffling across the court within. The shutter of the +grating was slipp'd back, and a voice, crack'd as the bell, asked my +business. + +"To see Master Hannibal Tingcomb," answered I. + +"Thy name?" + +"He shall hear it in time. Say that I come on business concerning +the estate." + +The voice mutter'd something, and the footsteps went back. I had +been kicking my heels there for twenty minutes or more when they +returned, and the voice repeated the question--- + +"Thy name?" + +Being by this time angered, I did a foolish thing; which was, to +clap the muzzle of my pistol against the grating, close to the +fellow's nose. Singular to say, the trick serv'd me. A bolt was +slipp'd hastily back and the wicket door opened stealthily. + +"I want," said I, "room for my horse to pass." + +Thereupon more grumbling follow'd, and a prodigious creaking of +bolts and chains; after which the big gate swung stiffly back. + +"Sure, you must be worth a deal," I said, "that shut yourselves in +so careful." + +Before me stood a strange fellow--extraordinary old and bent, with +a wizen'd face, one eye only, and a chin that almost touched his nose. +He wore a dirty suit of livery, that once had been canary-yellow; +and shook with the palsy. + +"Master Tingcomb will see the young man," he squeak'd, nodding his +head; "but is a-reading just now in his Bible." + +"A pretty habit," answered I, leading in Molly--"if unseasonable. +But why not have said so?" + +He seem'd to consider this for a while, and then said abruptly-- + +"Have some pasty and some good cider?" + +"Why yes," I said, "with all my heart, when I have stabled the +sorrel here." + +He led the way across the court, well paved but chok'd with weeds, +toward the stable. I found it a spacious building, and counted +sixteen stalls there; but all were empty save two, where stood the +horses I had seen in Bodmin the day before. Having stabled Molly, I +left the place (which was thick with cobwebs) and follow'd the old +servant into the house. + +He took me into a great stone kitchen, and brought out the pasty and +cider, but poured out half a glass only. + +"Have a care, young man: 'tis a luscious, thick, seductive drink," +and he chuckled. + +"'Twould turn the edge of a knife," said I, tasting it and looking +at him: but his one blear'd eye was inscrutable. The pasty also was +mouldy, and I soon laid it down. + +"Hast a proud stomach that cometh of faring sumptuously: the beef +therein is our own killing," said he. "Young sir, art a man of blood, +I greatly fear, by thy long sword and handiness with the firearms." + +"Shall be presently," answered I, "if you lead me not to Master +Tingcomb." + +He scrambled up briskly and totter'd out of the kitchen into a stone +corridor, I after him. Along this he hurried, muttering all the way, +and halted before a door at the end. Without knocking he pushed it +open, and motioning me to enter, hasten'd back as he had come. + +"Come in," said a voice that seem'd familiar to me. + +Though, as you know, 'twas still high day, in the room where now I +found myself was every appearance of night: the shutters being +closed, and six lighted candles standing on the table. Behind them +sat the venerable gentleman whom I had seen in the coach, now +wearing a plain suit of black, and reading in a great book that lay +open on the table. I guess'd it to be the Bible; but noted that the +candles had shades about them, so disposed as to throw the light, +not on the page, but on the doorway where I stood. + +Yet the old gentleman, having bid me enter, went on reading for a +while as though wholly unaware of me: which I found somewhat +nettling, so began--- + +"I speak, I believe, to Master Hannibal Tingcomb, steward to Sir +Deakin Killigrew." + +He went on, as if ending his sentence aloud: "... And my darling +from the power of the dog." Here he paused with finger on the place +and looked up. "Yes, young sir, that is my name--steward to the late +Sir Deakin Killigrew." + +"The late?" cried I: "Then you know--" + +"Surely I know that Sir Deakin is dead: else should I be but an +unworthy steward." He open'd his grave eyes as if in wonder. + +"And his son, also?" + +"Also his son Anthony, a headstrong boy, I fear me, a consorter with +vile characters. Alas? that I should say it." + +"And his daughter, Mistress Delia?" + +"Alas!" and he fetched a deep sigh. + +"Do you mean, sir, that she too is dead!" + +"Why, to be sure-but let us talk on less painful matters." + +"In one moment, sir: but first tell me--where did she die, and when? +" + +For my heart stood still, and I was fain to clutch the table between +us to keep me from falling. I think this did not escape him, for he +gave me a sharp look, and then spoke very quiet and hush'd, + +"She was cruelly kill'd by highwaymen, at the 'Three Cups' inn, some +miles out of Hungerford. The date given me is the 3d of December +last." + +With this a great rush of joy came over me, and I blurted out, +delighted-- + +"There, sir, you are wrong! Her father was kill'd on the night of +which you speak--cruelly enough, as you say: but Mistress Delia +Killigrew escaped, and after the most incredible adventures--" + +I was expecting him to start up with joy at my announcement; but +instead of this, he gaz'd at me very sorrowfully and shook his head; +which brought me to a stand. + +"Sir," I said, changing my tone, "I speak but what I know: for 'twas +I had the happy fortune to help her to escape, and, under God's hand, +to bring her safe to Cornwall." + +"Then, where is she now?" + +Now this was just what I could not tell. So, standing before him, I +gave him my name and a history of all my adventures in my dear +comrade's company, from the hour when I saw her first in the inn at +Hungerford. Still keeping his finger on the page, he heard me to the +end attentively, but with a curling of the lips toward the close, +such as I did not like. And when I had done, to my amaze he spoke +out sharply, and as if to a whipp'd schoolboy. + +"'Tis a cock-and-bull story, sir, of which I could hope to make you +ashamed. Six weeks in your company? and in boy's habit? Surely 'twas +enough the pure unhappy maid should be dead--without such vile +slander on her fame, and from you, that were known, sir, to have +been at that inn, and on that night, with her murderers. Boy, I have +evidence that, taken with your confession, would weave you a halter; +and am a Justice of the Peace. Be thankful, then, that I am a +merciful man; yet be abash'd." + +Abash'd, indeed, I was; or at least taken aback, to see his holy +indignation and the flush on his waxen cheek. Like a fool I stood +staggered, and wondered dimly where I had heard that thin voice +before. In the confusion of my senses I heard it say solemnly--- + +"The sins of her fathers have overtaken her, as the Book of Exodus +proclaim'd: therefore is her inheritance wasted, and given to the +satyr and the wild ass." + +[Illustration: "What did you in Oxford last November?"--Page 219.] + +"And which of the twain be you, sir?" + +I cannot tell what forced this violent rudeness from me, for he +seem'd an honest, good man; but my heart was boiling that any should +put so ill a construction on my Delia. As for him, he had risen, and +was moving with dignity to the door--to show me out, as I guess. +When suddenly I, that had been staring stupidly, leap'd upon him and +hurled him back into his chair. + +For I had marked his left foot trailing, and, by the token, knew him +for the white hair'd man of the bowling-green. + +"Master Hannibal Tingcomb," I spoke in his ear, "--dog and murderer! +What did you in Oxford last November? And how of Captain Lucius +Higgs, otherwise Captain Luke Settle, otherwise Mr. X.? Speak, +before I serve you as the dog was served that night!" + +I dream yet, in my sick nights, of the change that came over the +vile, hypocritical knave at these words of mine. To see his pale +venerable face turn green and livid, his eyeball start, his hands +clutch at air--it frighten'd me. + +"Brandy!" he gasped. "Brandy! there--quick--for God's sake!" + +And the next moment he had slipp'd from my grasp, and was wallowing +in a fit on the floor. I ran to the cupboard at which he had pointed, +and finding there a bottle of strong waters, forced some drops +between his teeth; and hard work it was, he gnashing at me all the +time and foaming at the mouth. + +Presently he ceased to writhe and bite: and lifting, I set him in +his chair, where he lay, a mere limp bundle, staring and blinking. +So I sat down facing him, and waited his recovery. + +"Dear young sir," he began at length feebly, his fingers searching +the Bible before him, from force of habit. "Kind young sir--I am an +old, dying man, and my sins have found me out. Only yesterday, the +physician at Bodmin told me that my days are numbered. This is the +second attack, and the third will kill me." + +"Well?" said I. + +"If--if Mistress Delia be alive (as indeed I did not think), I will +make restitution--I will confess--only tell me what to do, that I +may die in peace." + +Indeed, he look'd pitiable, sitting there and stammering: but I +harden'd my heart to say--- + +"I must have a confession, then, written before I leave the room." + +"But, dear young friend, you will not use it if I give up all? You +will not seek my life? that already is worthless, as you see." + +"Why, 'tis what you deserve. But Delia shall say when I find her--as +I shall go straight to seek her. If she be lost, I shall use it-- +never fear: if she be found, it shall be hers to say what mercy she +can discover in her heart; but I promise you I shall advise none." + +The tears by this were coursing down his shrunken cheeks, but I +observ'd him watch me narrowly, as though to find out how much I +knew. So I pull'd out my pistol, and setting pen and paper before +him, obtained at the end of an hour a very pretty confession of his +sins, which lies among my papers to this day. When 'twas written and +sign'd, in a weak, rambling hand, I read it through, folded it, +placed it inside my coat, and prepared to take my leave. + +But he called out an order to the old servant to saddle my mare, and +stood softly praying and beseeching me in the courtyard till the +last moment. Nor when I was mounted would anything serve but he must +follow at my stirrup to the gate. But when I had briefly taken leave, +and the heavy doors had creaked behind me, I heard a voice calling +after me down the road--- + +"Dear young sir! Dear friend!--I had forgotten somewhat." + +Returning, I found the gate fastened, and the iron shutter slipp'd +back. + +"Well?" I asked, leaning toward it. + +"Dear young friend, I pity thee, for thy paper is worthless. To-day, +by my advices, the army of our most Christian Parliament, more than +twenty thousand strong, under the Earl of Stamford, have overtaken +thy friends, the malignant gentry, near Stratton Heath, in the +northeast. They are more than two to one. By this hour to-morrow, +the Papists all will be running like conies to their burrows, and +little chance wilt thou have to seek Delia Killigrew, much less to +find her. And remember, I know enough of thy late services to hang +thee: mercy then will lie in my friends' hands; but be sure I shall +advise none." + +And with a mocking laugh he clapp'd--to the grating in my face. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +I LEAVE JOAN AND RIDE TO THE WARS. + + +You may guess how I felt at being thus properly fooled. And the +worst was I could see no way to mend it; for against the barricade +between us I might have beat myself for hours, yet only hurt my +fists: and the wall was so smooth and high, that even by standing on +Molly's back I could not--by a foot or more--reach the top to pull +myself over. + +There was nothing for it but to turn homewards, down the hill: which +I did, chewing the cud of my folly, and finding it bitter as gall. +What consoled me somewhat was the reflection that his threats were, +likely enough, mere vaporing: for of any breach of the late compact +between the parties I had heard nothing, and never seem'd a country +more wholly given up to peace than that through which I had ridden +in the morning. So recalling Master Tingcomb's late face of terror, +and the confession in my pocket, I felt more cheerful. "England has +grown a strange place, if I cannot get justice on this villain," +thought I; and rode forward, planning a return-match and a sweet +revenge. + +There is no more soothing game, I believe, in the world than this of +holding imaginary triumphant discourse with your enemy. Yet (oddly) +it brought me but cold comfort on this occasion, my wound being too +recent and galling. The sky, so long clouded, was bright'ning now, +and growing serener every minute: the hills were thick with fox- +gloves, the vales white with hawthorn, smelling very sweetly in the +cool of the day: but I, with the bridle flung on Molly's neck, +pass'd them by, thinking only of my discomfiture, and barely rousing +myself to give back a "Good-day" to those that met me on the road. +Nor, till we were on the downs and Joan's cottage came in sight, did +I shake the brooding off. + +Joan was not in the kitchen when I arrived, nor about the buildings; +nor yet could I spy her anywhere moving on the hills. So, after +calling to her once or twice, I stabled the mare, and set off up the +tor side to seek her. + +Now I must tell you that since the day of my coming I had made many +attempts to find the place where Joan had then hidden me, and always +fruitlessly: though I knew well whereabouts it must be. Indeed, I +had thought at first I had only to walk straight to the hole: yet +found after repeated trials but solid earth and boulders for my +pains. + +But to-day as I climb'd past the spot, something very bright flashed +in my eyes and dazzled me, and rubbing them and looking, I saw a +great hole in the hill--facing to the sou'-west--in the very place +I had search'd for it; and out of this a beam of light glancing. + +Creeping near on tiptoe, I found one huge block of granite that +before had seemed bedded, among a dozen fellow-boulders, against the +turf--the base resting on another well-nigh as big--was now rolled +back; having been fixed to work smoothly on a pivot, yet so like +nature that no eye, but by chance, could detect it. Now, who in the +beginning designed this hiding place I leave you to consider; and +whether it was the Jews or Phoenicians--nations, I am told, that +once work'd the hills around for tin. But inside 'twas curiously +paved and lined with slabs of granite, the specks of ore in which, +I noted, were the points of light that had once puzzled me. And here +was Joan's bower, and Joan herself inside it. + +She was sitting with her back to me, in her left hand holding up the +mirror, that caught the rays of the now sinking sun (and thus had +dazzled me), while with her right she tried to twist into some form +of knot her tresses--black, and coarse as a horse's mane--that +already she had roughly braided. A pail of water stood beside her; +and around lay scatter'd a score or more of long thorns, cut to the +shape of hair pins. + +'Tis probable that after a minute's watching I let some laughter +escape me. At any rate Joan turned, spied me, and scrambled up, with +an angry red on her cheek. Then I saw that her bodice was neater +lac'd than usual, and a bow of yellow ribbon (fish'd up heaven knows +whence) stuck in the bosom. But the strangest thing was to note the +effect of this new tidiness upon her: for she took a step forward as +if to cuff me by the ear (as, a day agone, she would have done), and +then stopp'd, very shy and hesitating. + +"Why, Joan," said I, "don't be anger'd. It suits you choicely--it +does indeed." + +"Art scoffing, I doubt." She stood looking heavily and askance at me. + +"On my faith, no: and what a rare tiring-bower the Jew's Kitchen +makes! Come, Joan, be debonair and talk to me, for I am out of luck +to-day." + +"Forgit it, then" (and she pointed to the sun), "whiles yet some o't +is left. Tell me a tale, an thou'rt minded." + +"Of what?" + +"O' the bloodiest battle thou'st ever heard tell on." + +So, sitting by the mouth of the Jew's Kitchen, I told her as much as +I could remember out of Homer's Iliad, wondering the while what my +tutor, Mr. Josias How, of Trinity College, would think to hear me so +use his teaching. By-and-bye, as I warm'd to the tale, Joan forgot +her new smartness; and at length, when Hector was running from +Achilles round the walls, clapp'd her hands for excitement, crying, +"Church an' King, lad! Oh, brave work!" + +"Why, no," answered I, "'twas not for that they were fighting;" and +looking at her, broke off with, "Joan, art certainly a handsome +girl: give me a kiss for the mirror." + +Instead of flying out, as I look'd for, she fac'd round, and +answered me gravely--- + +"That I will not: not to any but my master." + +"And who is that?" + +"No man yet; nor shall be till one has beat me sore: him will I love, +an' follow like a dog--if so be he whack me often enow'." + +"A strange way to love," laughed I. + +She look'd at me straight, albeit with an odd gloomy light in her +eyes. + +"Think so, Jack? then I give thee leave to try." + +I think there is always a brutality lurking in a man to leap out +unawares. Yet why do I seek excuses, that have never yet found one? +To be plain, I sprang fiercely up and after Joan, who had already +started, and was racing along the slope. + +Twice around the tor she led me: and though I strain'd my best, not +a yard could I gain upon her, for her bare feet carried her light +and free. Indeed, I was losing ground, when coming to the Jew's +Kitchen a second time, she tried to slip inside and shut the stone +in my face. + +Then should I have been prettily bemock'd, had I not, with a great +effort, contrived to thrust my boot against the door just as it was +closing. Wrenching it open, I laid hand on her shoulder; and in a +moment she had gripp'd me, and was wrestling like a wild-cat. + +Now being Cumberland-bred I knew only the wrestling of my own county, +and nothing of the Cornish style. For in the north they stand well +apart, and try to wear down one another's strength: whereas the +Cornish is a brisker lighter play--and (as I must confess) prettier +to watch. So when Joan rush'd in and closed with me, I was within an +ace of being thrown, pat. + +But recovering, I got her at arm's length, and held her so, while my +heart ach'd to see my fingers gripping her shoulders and sinking +into the flesh. I begg'd off; but she only fought and panted, and +struggled to lock me by the ankles again. I could not have dream'd +to find such fierce strength in a girl. Once or twice she nearly +overmastered me: but at length my stubborn play wore her out. Her +breath came short and fast, then fainter: and in the end, still +holding her off, I turned her by the shoulders, and let her drop +quietly on the turf. No thought had I any longer of kissing her; but +stood back, heartily sick and ashamed of myself. + +For awhile she lay, turn'd over on her side, with hands guarding her +head, as if expecting me to strike her. Then gathering herself up, +she came and put her hand in mine, very meekly. + +"Had lik'd it better had'st thou stamped the life out o' me, a'most. +But there, lad--am thine forever!" + +'Twas like a buffet in the face to me. "What!" I cried. + +She look'd up in my face--dear Heaven, that I should have to write +it!--with eyes brimful, sick with love; tried to speak, but could +only nod: and broke into a wild fit of tears. + +I was standing there with her hand in mine, and a burning remorse in +my heart, when I heard the clear notes of a bugle blown, away on the +road to Launceston. + +Looking that way, I saw a great company of horse coming down over +the crest, the sun shining level on their arms and a green standard +that they bore in their midst. + +Joan spied them the same instant, and check'd her sobs. Without a +word we flung ourselves down full length on the turf to watch. + +They were more than a thousand, as I guess'd, and came winding down +the road very orderly, till, being full of them, it seem'd a long +serpent writhing with shiny scales. The tramp of hoofs and jingling +of bits were pretty to hear. + +"Rebels!" whisper'd I. + +Joan nodded. + +There were three regiments in all, whereof the first (and biggest) +was of dragoons. So clear was the air, I could almost read the +legend on their standard, and the calls of their captains were borne +up to us extremely distinct. + +As they rode leisurely past, I thought of Master Tingcomb's threat, +and wonder'd what this array could intend. Nor, turning it over, +could I find any explanation: for the Earl of Stamford's gathering, +he had said, was in the northeast, and I knew such troops as the +Cornish generals had to be quarter'd at Launceston. Yet here, on the +near side of Launceston, was a large body of rebel horse marching +quietly to the sou'-west. Where was the head or tail to it? + +Turning my head as the last rider disappear'd on the way to Bodmin, +I spied a squat oddly shap'd man striding down the hill very +briskly: yet he look'd about him often and kept to the hollows of +the ground; and was crossing below us, as it appeared, straight for +Joan's cottage. + +Cried I: "There is but one man in the world with such a gait--and +that's Billy Pottery!" + +And jumping to my feet (for he was come directly beneath us) I +caught up a great stone and sent it bowling down the slope. + +Bounce it went past him, missing his legs by a foot or less. The man +turn'd, and catching sight of me as I stood waving, made his way up +the hill. 'Twas indeed Captain Bilty: and coming up, the honest +fellow almost hugg'd me for joy. + +"Was seeking thee, Jack," he bawled: "learn'd from Sir Bevill where +belike I might find thee. Left his lodging at Launceston this +mornin', and trudged ivery foot o' the way. A thirsty land, Jack-- +neither horse's meat nor man's meat therein, nor a chair to sit down +on: an' three women only have I kiss'd this day!" He broke off and +look'd at Joan. "Beggin' the lady's pardon for sea manners and way +o' speech." + +"Joan," said I, "this is Billy Pottery, a good mariner and friend of +mine: and as deaf as a haddock." + +Billy made a leg; and as I pointed to the road where the cavalry had +just disappeared, went on with a nod--- + +"That's so: old Sir G'arge Chudleigh's troop o' horse sent off to +Bodmin to seize the High Sheriff and his _posse_ there. Two +hour agone I spied 'em, and ha' been ever since playin' spy." + +"Then where be the King's forces?" I made shift to enquire by signs. + +"March'd out o' Launceston to-day, lad--an' but a biscuit a man +between 'em, poor dears--for Stratton Heath, i' the nor'-east, where +the rebels be encamp'd. Heard by scouts o' these gentry bein' sent +to Bodmin, and were minded to fight th' Earl o' Stamford whiles his +dragooners was away. An' here's the long an' short o't: thou'rt +wanted, lad, to bear a hand wi' us up yonder--an the good lady here +can spare thee." + +And here we both look'd at Joan--I shamefacedly enough, and Billy +with a puzzled air, which he tried very delicately to hide. + +She put her hand in mine. + +"To fight, lad?" + +I nodded my head. + +"Then go," she said without a shade in her voice; and as I made no +answer, went on--"Shall a woman hinder when there's fightin' +toward? Only come back when thy wars be over, for I shall miss thee, +Jack." + +And dropping my hand she led the way down to the cottage. + +Now Billy, of course, had not heard a word of this: but perhaps he +gathered some import. Any way, he pull'd up short midway on the +slope, scratched his head, and thunder'd--- + +"What a good lass!" + +Joan, some paces ahead, turn'd at this and smil'd: whereat, having +no idea he'd spoken above a whisper, Billy blush'd red as any peony. + +'Twas but a short half hour when, the mare being saddled and Billy +fed, we took our leave of Joan. Billy walked beside one stirrup, and +the girl on the other side, to see us a few yards on our way. At +length she halted--- + +"No leave-takin's, Jack, but 'Church and King!' Only do thy best and +not disgrace me." + +And "Church and King!" she call'd thrice after us, standing in the +road. For me, as I rode up out of that valley, the drums seem'd +beating and the bugles calling to a new life ahead. The last light +of day was on the tors, the air blowing fresher as we mounted: and +with Molly's every step the past five months appear'd to dissolve +and fall away from me as a dream. + +On the crest, I turn'd in the saddle. Joan was yet standing there, +a black speck on the road. She waved her hand once. + +Billy had turn'd too, and, uncovering, shouted so that the hilltops +echoed. + +"A good lass--a good lass! But what's become o' t'other one?" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH. + + +Night came, and found us but midway between Temple and Lannceston: +for tho' my comrade stepp'd briskly beside me, 'twas useless to put +Molly beyond a walk; and besides, the mare was new from her day's +journey. This troubled me the less by reason of the moon (now almost +at the full), and the extreme whiteness of the road underfoot, so +that there was no fear of going astray. And Billy engaged that by +sunrise we should be in sight of the King's troops. + +"Nay, Jack," he said, when by signs I offered him to ride and tie: +"never rode o' horseback but once, and then 'pon Parson Spinks his +red mare at Bideford. Parson i' those days was courtin' the Widow +Hambly, over to Torrington: an' I, that wanted to fare to Barnstaple, +spent that mornin' an' better part o' th' afternoon, clawin' off +Torrington. And th' end was the larboard halyards broke, an' the +mare gybed, an' to Torrington I went before the wind, wi' an +unseemly bloody nose. 'Lud!' cries the widow, ''tis the wrong man +'pon the right horse!' 'Pardon, mistress,' says I, 'the man is well +enow, but 'pon the wrong horse, for sure.'" + +Now and then, as we went, I would dismount and lead Molly by the +bridle for a mile or so: and all the way to Launceston Billy was +recounting his adventures since our parting. It appeared that, after +leaving me, they had come to Plymouth with a fair passage: but +before they could unlade, had advertisement of the Governor's design +to seize all vessels then riding in the Sound, for purposes of war; +and so made a quick escape by night into Looe Haven, where they had +the fortune to part with the best part of their cargo at a high +profit. 'Twas while unlading here that Billy had a mind to pay a +debt he ow'd to a cousin of his at Altarnun, and, leaving Matt +Soames in charge, had tramped northward through Liskeard to +Launceston, where he found the Cornish forces, and was met by the +news of the Earl of Stamford's advance in the northeast. Further, +meeting, in Sir Bevill's troop, with some north coast men of his +acquaintance, he fell to talking, and so learn'd about me and my +ride toward Braddock, which (it seem'd) was now become common +knowledge. This led him to seek Sir Bevill, with the result that you +know: "for," as he wound up, "'tis a desirable an' rare delight to +pay a debt an' see some fun, together." + +We had some trouble at Launceston gate, where were a few burghers +posted for sentries, and, as I could see, ready to take fright at +their own shadows. But Billy gave the watchword ("One and All"), and +presently they let us through. As we pass'd along the street we +marked a light in every window almost, tho' 'twas near midnight; and +the people moving about behind their curtains. There were groups too +in the dark doorways, gather'd there discussing, that eyed us as we +went by, and answered Billy's _Good-night, honest men!_ very hoarse +and doubtfully. + +But when we were beyond the town, and between hedges again, I think +I must have dozed off in my saddle. For, though this was a road full +of sharp memories, being the last I had traveled with Delia, I have +no remembrance to have felt them; or, indeed, of noting aught but +the fresh night air, and the constellation of the Bear blazing ahead, +and Billy's voice resonant beside me. + +And after this I can recall passing the tower of Marham Church, with +the paling sky behind it, and some birds chattering in the carved +courses: and soon (it seem'd) felt Billy's grip on my knee, and +open'd my eyes to see his finger pointing. + +We stood on a ridge above a hollow vale into which the sun, though +now bright, did not yet pierce, but passing over to a high, conical +hill beyond, smote level on line after line of white tents--the +prettiest sight! 'Twas the enemy there encamped on the top and some +way down the sides, the smoke of their trampled watch fires still +curling among the gorsebushes. I heard their trumpets calling and +drums beating to arms; for though, glancing back at the sun, I +judged it to be hardly past four in the morning, yet already the +slopes were moving like an ant-hill--the regiments gathering, arms +flashing, horsemen galloping to and fro, and the captains shouting +their commands. In the distance this had a sweet and cheerful sound, +no more disquieting than a ploughboy calling to his team. + +Looking down into the valley at our feet, at first I saw no sign of +our own troops--only the roofs of a little town, with overmuch smoke +spread above it, like a morning mist. But here also I heard the +church bells clashing and a drum beating, and presently spied a +gleam of arms down among the trees, and then a regiment of foot +moving westward along the base of the hill. 'Twas evident the battle +was at hand, and we quicken'd our pace down into the street. + +It lay on the slope, and midway down we pass'd some watch fires +burn'd out; and then a soldier or two running and fastening their +straps; and last a little child, that seem'd wild with the joy of +living amid great events, but led us pretty straight to the sign of +"The Tree," which indeed was the only tavern. + +It stood some way back from the street, with a great elm before the +porch: where by a table sat two men, with tankards beside them, and +a small company of grooms and soldiers standing round. Both men were +more than ordinary tall and soldier like: only the bigger wore a +scarlet cloak very richly lac'd, and was shouting orders to his men; +while the other, dress'd in plain buff suit and jack boots, had a +map spread before him, which he studied very attentively, writing +therein with a quill pen. + +"What a plague have we here?" cries the big man, as we drew up. + +"Recruits if it please you, sir," said I, dismounting and pulling +off my hat, tho' his insolent tone offended me. + +"S'lid! The boy speaks as if he were a regiment," growls he, half +aloud: "Can'st fight?" + +"That, with your leave, sir, is what I am come to try." + +"And this rascal?" He turned on Billy. + +Billy heard not a word, of course, yet answered readily-- + +"Why, since your honor is so pleasantly minded--let it be cider." + +Now the first effect of this, deliver'd with all force of lung, was +to make the big man sit bolt upright and staring: recovering speech, +however, he broke into a volley of blasphemous curses. + +All this while the man in buff had scarce lifted his eyes off the +map. But now he looks up--and I saw at the first glance that the two +men hated each other. + +"I think," said he quietly, "my Lord Mohun has forgot to ask the +_gentleman's_ name." + +"My name is Marvel, sir--John Marvel." I answer'd him with a bow. + +"Hey!"--and dropping his pen he starts up and grasps my hand--"Then +'tis you I have never thanked for His Gracious Majesty's letter." + +"The General Hopton?" cried I. + +"Even so, sir. My lord," he went on, still holding my hand and +turning to his companion, "let me present to you the gentleman that +in January sav'd your house of Bocconnoc from burning at the hands +of the rebels--whom God confound this day!" He lifted his hat. + +"Amen," said I, as his lordship bowed, exceedingly sulky. But I did +not value his rage, being hot with joy to be so beprais'd by the +first captain (as I yet hold) on the royal side. Who now, not +without a sly triumph, flung the price of Billy's cider on the table +and, folding up his map, address'd me again-- + +"Master Marvel, the fight to-day will lie but little with the horse +--or so I hope. You will do well, if your wish be to serve us best, +to leave your mare behind. The troop which my Lord Mohun and I +command together is below. But Sir Bevill Grenville, who has seen +and is interested in you, has the first claim: and I would not deny +you the delight to fight your first battle under so good a master. +His men are, with Sir John Berkeley's troop, a little to the +westward: and if you are ready I will go some distance with you, and +put you in the way to find him. My lord, may we look for you +presently?" + +The Lord Mohun nodded, surly enough: so, Billy's cider being now +drunk and Molly given over to an ostler, we set out down the hill +together, Billy shouldering a pipe and walking after with the groom +that led Sir Ralph's horse. Be sure the General's courtly manner of +speech set my blood tingling. I seem'd to grow a full two inches +taller; and when, in the vale, we parted, he directing me to the +left, where through a gap I could see Sir Bevill's troop forming at +some five hundred paces' distance, I felt a very desperate warrior +indeed; and set off at a run, with Billy behind me. + +'Twas an open space we had to cross, dotted with gorsebushes; and +the enemy's regiments, plain to see, drawn up in battalia on the +slope above, which here was gentler than to the south and west. But +hardly had we gone ten yards than I saw a puff of white smoke above, +then another, and then the summit ring'd with flame; and heard the +noise of it roaring in the hills around. At the first sound I pull'd +up, and then began running again at full speed: for I saw our +division already in motion, and advancing up the hill at a quick +pace. + +The curve of the slope hid all but the nearest: but above them I saw +a steep earthwork, and thereon three or four brass pieces of +ordnance glittering whenever the smoke lifted. For here the +artillery was plying the briskest, pouring down volley on volley; +and four regiments at least stood mass'd behind, ready to fall on +the Cornish-men; who, answering with a small discharge of musketry, +now ran forward more nimbly. + +To catch up with them, I must now turn my course obliquely up the +hill, where running was pretty toilsome. We were panting along when +suddenly a shower of sand and earth was dash'd in my face, +spattering me all over. Half-blinded, I look'd and saw a great round +shot had ploughed a trench in the ground at my feet, and lay there +buried. + +At the same moment, Billy, who was running at my shoulder, plumps +down on his knees and begins to whine and moan most pitiably. + +"Art hurt, dear fellow?" asked I, turning. + +"Oh, Jack, Jack--I have no stomach for this! A cool, wet death at +sea I do not fear; only to have the great hot shot burning in a +man's belly--'tis terrifying. I _hate_ a swift death! Jack, I +be a sinner--I will confess: I lied to thee yesterday--never kiss'd +the three maids I spoke of--never kiss'd but one i' my life, an' her +a tap-wench, that slapp'd my face for 't, an' so don't properly +count. I be a very boastful man!" + +Now I myself had felt somewhat cold inside when the guns began +roaring: but this set me right in a trice. I whipp'd a pistol out of +my sash and put the cold ring to his ear: and he scrambled up; and +was a very lion all the rest of the day. + +But now we had again to change our course, for to my dismay I saw a +line of sharpshooters moving down among the gorsebushes, to take the +Cornishmen in flank. And 'twas lucky we had but a little way further +to go; for these skirmishers, thinking perhaps from my dress and our +running thus that we bore some message open'd fire on us: and tho' +they were bad marksmen, 'twas ugly to see their bullets pattering +into the turf, to right and left. + +We caught up the very last line of the ascending troop--lean, hungry +looking men, with wan faces, but shouting lustily. I think they were +about three hundred in all. "Come on, lad," called out a bearded +fellow with a bandage over one eye, making room for me at his side; +"there's work for plenty more!"--and a minute after, a shot took him +in the ribs, and he scream'd out "Oh, my God!" and flinging up his +arms, leap'd a foot in air and fell on his face. + +Pressing up, I noted that the first line was now at the foot of the +earthwork; and, in a minute, saw their steel caps and crimson sashes +swarming up the face of it, and their pikes shining. But now came a +shock, and the fellow in front was thrust back into my arms. I +reeled down a pace or two and then, finding foothold, stood pushing. +And next, the whole body came tumbling back on me, and down the hill +we went flying, with oaths and cries. Three of the rebel regiments +had been flung on us and by sheer weight bore us before them. At the +same time the sharpshooters pour'd in a volley: and I began to see +how a man may go through a battle, and be beat, without striking a +blow. + +But in the midst of this scurry I heard the sound of cheering. 'Twas +Sir John Berkeley's troop (till now posted under cover of the hedges +below) that had come to our support; and the rebels, fearing to +advance too far, must have withdrawn again behind their earthwork, +for after a while the pressure eas'd a bit, and, to my amaze, the +troop which but a minute since was a mere huddled crowd, formed in +some order afresh, and once more began to climb. This time, I had a +thick-set pikeman in front of me, with a big wen at the back of his +neck that seem'd to fix all my attention. And up we went, I counting +the beat of my heart that was already going hard and short with the +work; and then, amid the rattle and thunder of their guns, we +stopp'd again. + +I had taken no notice of it, but in the confusion of the first +repulse the greater part of our men had been thrust past me, so that +now I found myself no further back than the fourth rank, and at the +very foot of the earthwork, up the which our leaders were flung like +a wave; and soon I was scrambling after them, ankle deep in the +sandy earth, the man with the wen just ahead, grinding my instep +with his heel and poking his pike staff between my knees as he +slipp'd. + +And just at the moment when the top of our wave was cleaving a small +breach above us, he fell on the flat of his pike, with his nose +buried in the gravel and his hands clutching. Looking up I saw a +tall rebel straddling above him with musket clubb'd to beat his +brains out: whom with an effort I caught by the boot; and, the bank +slipping at that instant, down we all slid in a heap, a jumble of +arms and legs, to the very bottom. + +Before I had the sand well out of my eyes, my comrade was up and had +his pike loose; and in a twinkling, the rebel was spitted through +the middle and writhing. 'Twas sickening: but before I could pull +out my pistol and end his pain (as I was minded), back came our +front rank a-top of us again, and down they were driven like sheep, +my companion catching up the dead man's musket and ammunition bag, +and I followed down the slope with three stout rebels at my heels. +"What will be the end of _this?_" thought I. + +The end was, that after forty yards or so, finding the foremost +close upon me, I turn'd about and let fly with my pistol at him. He +spun round twice and dropp'd: which I was wondering at (the pistol +being but a poor weapon for aim) when I was caught by the arm and +pull'd behind a clump of bushes handy by. 'Twas the man with the wen, +and by his smoking musket I knew that 'twas he had fired the shot +that killed my pursuer. + +"Good turn for good turn," says he: "quick with thy other pistol!" + +The other two had stopped doubtfully, but at the next discharge of +my pistol they turn'd tail and went up the hill again, and we were +left alone. And suddenly I grew aware that my head was aching fit to +split, and lay down on the turf, very sick and ill. + +My comrade took no notice of this, but, going for the dead man's +musket, kept loading and firing, pausing now and then for his +artillery to cool, and whistling a tune that runs in my head to this +day. And all the time I heard shouts and cries and the noise of +musketry all around, which made me judge that the attack was going +on in many places at once. When I came to myself 'twas to hear a +bugle below calling again to the charge, and once more came the two +troops ascending. At their head was a slight built man, bare-headed, +with the sun (that was by this, high over the hill) smiting on his +brown curls, and the wind blowing them. He carried a naked sword in +his hand, and waved his men forward as cheerfully as though 'twere +a dance and he leading out his partner. + +"Who is that yonder?" asked I, sitting up and pointing. + +"Bless thy innocent heart!" said my comrade, "dostn't thee know? Tis +Sir Bevill." + + * * * * * + +'Twould be tedious to tell the whole of this long fight, which, +beginning soon after sunrise, ended not till four in the afternoon, +or thereabouts: and indeed of the whole my recollection is but of +continual advance and repulse on that same slope. And herein may be +seen the wisdom of our generals, in attacking while the main body of +the enemy's horse was away: for had the Earl of Stamford possessed +a sufficient force of dragoons to let slip on us at the first +discomfiture, there is little doubt he might have ended the battle +there and then. As it was, the horse stood out of the fray, theirs +upon the summit of the hill, ours (under Col. John Digby) on the +other slope, to protect the town and act as reserve. + +The foot, in four parties, was disposed about the hill on all sides; +to the west--as we know--under Sir John Berkeley and Sir Bevill +Grenville; to the south under General Hopton and Lord Mohun; to the +east under the Colonels Tom Basset and William Godolphin; while the +steep side to the north was stormed by Sir Nicholas Slanning and +Colonel Godolphin, with their companies. And as we had but eight +small pieces of cannon and were in numbers less than one to two, all +we had to do was to march up the hill in face of their fire, catch +a knock on the head, may be, grin, and come on again. + +But at three o'clock, we, having been for the sixth time beaten back, +were panting under cover of a hedge, and Sir John Berkeley, near by, +was writing on a drumhead some message to the camp, when there comes +a young man on horseback, his face smear'd with dirt and dust, and +rides up to him and Sir Bevill. 'Twas (I have since learn'd) to say +that the powder was all spent but a barrel or two: but this only the +captains knew at the time. + +"Very well, then," cries Sir Bevill, leaping up gaily. "Come along, +boys--we must do it this time." And, the troop forming, once more +the trumpets sounded the charge, and up we went. Away along the +slope we heard the other trumpeters sounding in answer, and I +believe 'twas a _sursum corda!_ to all of us. + +Billy Pottery was ranged on my right, in the first rank, and next to +me, on the other side, a giant, near seven foot high, who said his +name was Anthony Payne and his business to act as body-servant to +Sir Bevill. And he it was that struck up a mighty curious song in +the Cornish tongue, which the rest took up with a will. Twas +incredible how it put fire into them all: and Sir Bevill toss'd his +hat into the air, and after him like schoolboys we pelted, straight +for the masses ahead. + +For now over the rampart came a company of red musketeers, and two +of russet-clad pikemen, charging down on us. A moment, and we were +crushed back: another, and the chant rose again. We were grappling, +hand to hand, in the midst of their files. + +But, good lack! What use is swordsmanship in a charge like this? The +first red coat that encounter'd me I had spitted through the lung, +and, carried on by the rush, he twirled me round like a windmill. In +an instant I was pass'd; the giant stepping before me and clearing +a space about him, using his pike as if 'twere a flail. With a wrench +I tugg'd my sword out and followed. I saw Sir Bevill, a little to +the left, beaten to his knee, and carried toward me. Stretching out +a hand I pull'd him on his feet again, catching, as I did so, a +crack on the skull that would have ended me, had not Billy Pottery +put up his pike and broke the force of it. Next, I remember gripping +another red coat by the beard and thrusting at him with shortened +blade. Then the giant ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought to +rally round it; and with that I seem'd caught off my feet and swept +forward:--and we were on the crest. + +Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man's +breath off a pane. And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across +to where, on the north side, a white standard embroider'd with gold +griffins was mounting. + +"'Tis dear Nick Slanning!" he cried; "God be prais'd--the day is +ours for certain!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT. + + +The rest of this signal victory (in which 1,700 prisoners were taken, +besides the Major-General Chudleigh; and all the rebels' camp, +cannon and victuals) I leave historians to tell. For very soon after +the rout was assured (the plain below full of men screaming and +running, and Col. John Digby's dragoons after them, chasing, cutting, +and killing), a wet muzzle was thrust into my hand, and turning, I +found Molly behind me, with the groom to whom I had given her in the +morning. The rogue had counted on a crown for his readiness, and +swore the mare was ready for anything, he having mix'd half a pint +of strong ale with her mash, not half an hour before. + +So I determin'd to see the end of it, and paying the fellow, climb'd +into the saddle. On the summit the Cornish captains were now met, +and cordially embracing. 'Tis very sad in these latter times to call +back their shouts and boyish laughter, so soon to be quench'd on +Lansdowne slopes, or by Bristol graff. Yet, O favor'd ones!--to +chase Victory, to grasp her flutt'ring skirt, and so, with warm, +panting cheeks, kissing her, to fall, escaping evil days! + +How could they laugh? For me, the late passionate struggle left me +shaken with sobs; and for the starting tears I saw neither moors +around, nor sun, nor twinkling sea. Brushing them away, I was aware +of Billy Pottery striding at my stirrup, and munching at a biscuit +he had found in the rebels' camp. Said he, "In season, Jack, is in +reason. There be times to sing an' to dance, to marry and to give in +marriage; an' likewise times to become as wax: but now, lookin' +about an' seein' no haughty slaughterin' cannon but has a Cornishman +seated 'pon the touch-hole of the same, says I in my thoughtsome way, +'Forbear!'" + +Presently he pulls up before a rebel trooper, that was writhing on +the slope with a shatter'd thigh, yet raised himself on his fists to +gaze on us with wide, painful eyes. + +"Good sirs," gasp'd out the rebel, "can you tell me--where be Nat +Shipward?" + +"Now how should I know?" I answer'd. + +"'A had nutty-brown curls, an' wore a red jacket--Oh, as straight a +young man as ever pitched hay! 'a sarved in General Chudleigh's +troop--a very singular straight young man." + +"Death has taken a many such," said I, and thought on the man I had +run through in our last charge. + +The fellow groaned. "'A was my son," he said: and though Billy +pull'd out a biscuit (his pockets bulged with them) and laid it +beside him, he turn'd from it, and sank back on the turf again. + +We left him, and now, the descent being gentler, broke into a run, +in hopes to catch up with Col. John Digby's dragoons, that already +were far across the next vale. The slope around us was piled with +dead and dying, whereof four out of every five were rebels; and +cruelly they cursed us as we passed them by. Night was coming on +apace; and here already we were in deep shadow, but could see the +yellow sun on the hills beyond. We crossed a stream at the foot, and +were climbing again. Behind us the cheering yet continued, though +fainter: and fainter grew the cries and shouting in front. Soon we +turn'd into a lane over a steep hedge, under the which two or three +stout rebels were cowering. As we came tumbling almost atop of them, +they ran yelling: and we let them go in peace. + +The lane gradually led us to westward, out of the main line of the +rout, and past a hamlet where every door was shut and all silent. +And at last a slice of the sea fronted us, between two steeply +shelving hills. On the crest of the road, before it plunged down +toward the coast, was a wagon lying against the hedge, with the +horses gone: and beside it, stretch'd across the road, an old woman. +Stopping, we found her dead, with a sword-thrust through the left +breast; and inside the wagon a young man lying, with his jaw bound +up,--dead also. And how this sad spectacle happened here, so far +from the battlefield, was more than we could guess. + +I was moving away, when Billy, that was kneeling in the road, +chanced to cast his eyes up toward the sea, and dropping the dead +woman's hand scrambled on his feet and stood looking, with a puzzled +face. + +Following his gaze, I saw a small sloop moving under shorten'd +canvas, about two miles from the land. She made a pleasant sight, +with the last rays of sunlight flaming on her sails: but for Billy's +perturbation I could not account, so turn'd an enquiring glance to +him. + +"Suthin' i' the wind out yonder," was his answer: "What's a sloop +doing on that ratch so close in by the point? Be dang'd! but there +she goes again;"--as the little vessel swung off a point or two +further from the breeze, that was breathing softly up Channel. "Time +to sup, lad, for the both of us," he broke off shortly. + +Indeed, I was faint with hunger by this time, yet had no stomach to +eat thus close to the dead. So turning into a gate on our left hand, +we cross'd two or three fields, and sat down to sup off Billy's +biscuits, the mare standing quietly beside us, and cropping the +short grass. + +The field where we now found ourselves ran out along the top of a +small promontory, and ended, without fence of any sort, at the +cliff's edge. As I sat looking southward, I could only observe the +sloop by turning my head: but Billy, who squatted over against me, +hardly took his eyes off her, and between this and his meal was too +busy to speak a word. For me, I had enough to do thinking over the +late fight: and being near worn out, had half a mind to spend the +night there on the hard turf: for, though the sun was now down and +the landscape grey, yet the air was exceeding warm: and albeit, as +I have said, there breath'd a light breeze now and then, 'twas hardly +cool enough to dry the sweat off me. So I stretch'd myself out, and +found it very pleasant to lie still; nor, when Billy stood up and +sauntered off toward the far end of the headland, did I stir more +than to turn my head and lazily watch him. + +He was gone half an hour at the least, and the sky by this time was +so dark, that I had lost sight of him, when, rising on my elbow to +look around, I noted a curious red glow at a point where the turf +broke off, not three hundred yards behind me, and a thin smoke +curling up in it, as it seem'd, from the very face of the cliff +below. In a minute or so the smoke ceased almost; but the shine +against the sky continued steady, tho' not very strong. "Billy has +lit a fire," I guessed, and was preparing to go and look, when I +spied a black form crawling toward me, and presently saw 'twas Billy +himself. + +Coming close, he halted, put a finger to his lip and beckoned: then +began to lead the way back as he had come. + +Thought I, "these are queer doings:" but left Molly to browse, and +crept after him on hands and knees. He turn'd his head once to make +sure I was following, and then scrambled on quicker, but softly, +toward the point where the red glow was shining. + +Once more he pull'd up--as I judg'd, about twelve paces' distance +from the edge--and after considering for a second, began to move +again; only now he worked a little to the right. And soon I saw the +intention of this: for just here the cliff's lip was cleft by a +fissure--very like that in Scawfell which we were used to call the +_Lord's Rake_, only narrower--that ran back into the field and +shelved out gently at the top, so that a man might easily scramble +some way down it, tho' how far I could not then tell. And 'twas from +this fissure that the glow came. + +Along the right lip of this Billy led me, skirting it by a couple of +yards, and wriggling on his belly like a blind worm. Crawling closer +now (for 'twas hard to see him against the black turf), I stopp'd +beside him and strove to quiet the violence of my breathing. Then, +after a minute's pause, together we pulled ourselves to the edge, +and peer'd over. + +The descent of the gully was broken, some eight feet below us, by a +small ledge, sloping outward about six feet (as I guess), and +screen'd by branches of the wild tamarisk. At the back, in an angle +of the solid rock, was now set a pan pierced with holes, and full of +burning charcoal: and over this a man in the rebels' uniform was +stooping. + +He had a small paper parcel in his left hand, and was blowing at the +charcoal with all his might. Holding my breath, I heard him clearly, +but could see nothing of his face, for his back was toward us, all +sable against the glow. The charcoal fumes as they rose chok'd me so, +that I was very near a fit of coughing, when Billy laid one hand on +my shoulder, and with the other pointed out to seaward. + +Looking that way, I saw a small light shining on the sea, pretty +close in. 'Twas a lantern hung out from the sloop, as I concluded on +the instant: and now I began to have an inkling of what was toward. + +But looking down again at the man with the charcoal pan I saw a +black head of hair lifted, and then a pair of red puff'd cheeks, and +a pimpled nose with a scar across the bridge of it--all shining in +the glare of the pan. + +"Powers of Heaven!" I gasped; "'tis that bloody villain Luke +Settle!" + +And springing to my feet, I took a jump over the edge and came +sprawling on top of him. The scoundrel was stooping with his nose +close to the pan, and had not time to turn before I lit with a thud +on his shoulders, flattening him on the ledge and nearly sending his +face on top of the live coal. 'Twas so sudden that, before he could +so much as think, my fingers were about his windpipe, and the both +of us struggling flat on the brink of the precipice. For he had a +bull's strength, and heaved and kicked, so that I fully looked, next +moment, to be flying over the edge into the sea: nor could I loose +my grip to get out a pistol, but only held on and worked my fingers +in, and thought how he had strangled the mastiff that night on the +bowling-green, and vowed to serve him the same if only strength held +out. + +But now, just as he had almost twisted his neck free, I heard a +stone or two break away above us, and down came Billy Pottery flying +atop of us, and pinned us to the ledge. + +'Twas short work now. Within a minute, Captain Luke Settle was +turned on his back, his eyes fairly starting with Billy's clutch on +his throat, his mouth wide open and gasping; till I slipp'd the +nozzle of my pistol between his teeth; and with that he had no more +chance, but gave in, and like a lamb submitted to have his arms +truss'd behind him with Billy's leathern belt, and his legs with his +own. + +"Now," said I, standing over him, and putting the pistol against his +temple, "you and I, Master Turncoat Settle, have some accounts that +'twould be well to square. So first tell me, what do you here, and +where is Mistress Delia Killigrew?" + +I think that till this moment the bully had no idea his assailants +were more than a chance couple of Cornish troopers. But now seeing +the glow of the burning charcoal on my face, he ripped out a horrid +blasphemous curse, and straightway fell to speaking calmly. + +"Good sirs, the game is yours, with care. S'lid! but you hold a +pretty hand--if only you know how to play it." + +"'Tis you shall help me, Captain: but let us be clear about the +stakes. For you, 'tis life or death: for me, 'tis to regain Mistress +Delia, failing which I shoot you here through the head, and topple +you into the sea. You are the Knave of trumps, sir, and I play that +card: as matters now stand, only the Queen can save you." + +"Right: but where be King and Ace?" + +"The King is the Cornish army, yonder: the Ace is my pistol here, +which I hold." + +"And that's a very pretty comprehension of the game, sir: I play the +Queen." + +"Where is she?" + +For answer, he pointed seaward, where the sloop's lantern lay like +a floating star on the black waters. + +"What!" cried I. "Mistress Delia in that sloop! And who is with her, +pray?" + +"Why, Black Dick, to begin with--and Reuben Gedges--and Jeremy Toy." + +"All the Knaves left in the pack--God help her!" I muttered, as I +look'd out toward the light, and my heart beat heavily. "God help +her!" I said again, and turning, spied a grin on the Captain's face. + +"Under Providence," answered he, "your unworthy servant may suffice. +But what is my reward to be?" + +"Your neck," said I, "if I can save it when you are led before the +Cornish captains." + +"That's fair enough: so listen. These few months the lady has been +shut in Bristol keep, whither, by the advice of our employer, we +conveyed her back safe and sound. This same employer--" + +"A dirty rogue, whom you may as well call by his name--Hannibal +Tingcomb." + +"Right, young sir: a very dirty rogue, and a niggardly:--I hate a +mean rascal. Well, fearing her second escape from that prison, and +being hand in glove with the Parliament men, he gets her on board a +sloop bound for the Virginias, just at the time when he knows the +Earl of Stamford is to march and crush the Cornishmen. For escort +she has the three comrades of mine that I named: and the captain of +the sloop (a fellow that asks no questions) has orders to cruise +along the coast hereabouts till he gets news of the battle." + +"Which you were just now about to give him," cried I, suddenly +enlighten'd. + +"Right again. 'Twas a pretty scheme: for--d'ye see?--if all went +well with the Earl of Stamford, the King's law would be wiped out in +Cornwall, and Master Tingcomb (with his claims and meritorious +services) might snap his thumb thereat. So, in that case, Mistress +Delia was to be brought ashore here and taken to him, to serve as he +fancied. But if the day should go against us--as it has--she was to +sail to the Virginias with the sloop, and there be sold as a slave. +Or worse might happen; but I swear that is the worst was ever told +me." + +"God knows 'tis vile enough," said I, scarce able to refrain from +blowing his brains out. "So you were to follow the Earl's army, and +work the signals. Which are they?" For a quick resolve had come into +my head, and I was casting about to put it into execution. + +"A green light if we won: if not, a red light, to warn the sloop +away." + +I picked up the packet that had dropp'd from his hand when first I +sprang upon him. It was burst abroad, and a brown powder trickling +from it about the ledge. + +"This was the red light--to be sprinkled on the burning charcoal, I +suppose?" + +The fellow nodded. At the same moment, Billy (who as yet had not +spoke a word, and of course, understood nothing) thrust into my hand +another packet that he had found stuck in a corner against the rock. + +"Now tell me--in case the rebels won, where was the landing to be +made?" + +"In the cove below here--where the road leads down." + +"Aye, the road where the wagon stood." + +Captain Luke Settle blink'd his eyes at this: but nodded after a +moment. + +"And how many would escort her?" + +He caught my drift and laughed softly--- + +"Be damn'd, sir, but I begin to love you, for you play the game very +proper and soundly. Reuben, Jeremy, and Black Dick alone are in the +plot; so why should more escort her? For the skipper and crew have +their own business to look after." + +"Then, Master Settle, tho' it be a sore trial to you, those three +Knaves you must give me, or I play my Ace," and I pressed the ring +of my pistol sharply against his ear as a reminder. + +"With all my heart, young sir, you shall have them," says he briskly. + +"And this is 'honor among thieves,'" thought I: "You would sell your +comrade as you sold your King:" but only said, "If you cry out, or +speak one word to warn them--" + +Before I could get my sentence out, Billy Pottery broke in with a +voice like a trumpet-- + +"As folks go, Jack, I be a humorous man. But sittin' here, an' +ponderin' this way an' that, I says, in my deaf an' afflicted style, +'Why not shoot the ugly rogue, if mirth, indeed, be your object?' +For to wait till an uglier comes to this untravel'd spot is +superfluity." + +How to explain matters to Billy was more than I could tell: but in +a moment he himself supplied the means. For the rocks here were of +some kind of slate, very hard, but scaly: and finding two pieces, a +large and a small, he handed them to me, bawling that I was to write +therewith. So giving him my pistol, I made shift to scribble a few +words. Seeing his eyes twinkle as he read, I stood up. + +The charcoal by this time was a glowing mass of red: and threw so +clear a light on us that I feared the crew on board the sloop might +see our forms and suspect their misadventure. But the lantern still +hung steadily: so signing to Billy to drag our prisoner behind a +tamarisk bush, I open'd the second packet, and poured some of the +powder into my hand. + +It was composed of tiny crystals, yellow and flaky: and holding it, +for a moment I was possessed with a horrid fear that this might be +the signal to warn the sloop away. I flung a look at the Captain: +who read my thoughts on the instant. + +"Never fear, young sir: am no such hero as to sell my life for that +tag-rag. Only make haste, for your deaf friend has a cursed ugly way +of fumbling his pistol." + +So taking heart, I tore the packet wide, and shook out the powder on +the coals. + +Instantly there came a dense choking vapor, and a vivid green flare +that turned the rocks, the sky, and our faces to a ghastly +brilliance. For two minutes, at least, this unnatural light lasted. +As soon as it died away and the fumes clear'd, I look'd seaward. + +The lantern on the sloop was moving in answer to the signal. Three +times it was lifted and lower'd: and then in the stillness I heard +voices calling, and soon after the regular splash of oars. + +There was no time to be lost. Pulling the Captain to his feet, we +scrambled up the gully, and out at the top, and across the fields as +fast as our legs would take us. Molly came to my call and trotted +beside me--the Captain following some paces behind, and Billy last, +to keep a safe watch on his movements. + +At the gate, however, where we turned into the road, I tethered the +mare, lest the sound of her hoofs should betray us: and down toward +the sea we pelted, till almost at the foot of the hill I pull'd up +and listen'd, the others following my example. + +We could hear the sound of oars plain above the wash of waves on the +beach. I look'd about me. On either side the road was now bank'd by +tall hills, with clusters of bracken and furze bushes lying darkly +on their slopes. Behind one of these clusters I station'd Billy with +the Captain's long sword, and a pistol that I by signs forbade him +to fire unless in extremity. Then, retiring some forty paces up the +road, I hid the Captain and myself on the other side. + +Hardly were we thus disposed, before I heard the sound of a boat +grounding on the beach below, and the murmur of voices; and then the +noise of feet trampling the shingle. Upon which I ordered my +prisoner to give a hail, which he did readily. + +"Ahoy, Dick! Ahoy, Reuben Gedges!" + +In a moment or two came the answer-- + +"Ahoy, there, Captain--here we be!" + +"Fetch along the cargo!" shouted Captain Settle, on my prompting. + +"Where be you?" + +"Up the road, here--waiting!" + +"One minute, then--wait one minute, Captain!" + +I heard the boat push'd off, some _Good-nights_ call'd, and then (with +tender anguish) the voice of my Delia lifted in entreaty. As I +guess'd, she was beseeching the sailors to take her back to the +sloop, nor leave her to these villains. There follow'd an oath or +two growl'd out, a short scrimmage, and at last, above the splash of +the retreating boat, came the tramp of heavy feet on the road below. + +So fired was I at the sound of Delia's voice, that 'twas with much +ado I kept quiet behind the bush. Yet I had wit enough left to look +to the priming of my pistol, and also to bid the Captain shout again. +As he did so, a light shone out down the road, and round the corner +came a man bearing a lantern. + +"Can't be quicker, Captain," he called: "the jade struggles so that +Dick and Jeremy ha' their hands full." + +Sure enough, after him there came in view two stooping forms that +bore my dear maid between them--one by the feet, the other by the +shoulders. I ground my teeth to see it, for she writhed sorely. On +they came, however, until not more than ten paces off; and then that +traitor, Luke Settle, rose up behind our bush. + +"Set her here, boys," said he, "and tie her pretty ankles." + +"Well met, Captain!" said the fellow with the lantern--Reuben +Gedges--stepping forward; "Give us your hand!" + +He was holding out his own, when I sprang up, set the pistol close +to his chest, and fired. His scream mingled with the roar of it, and +dropping the lantern, he threw up his hands and tumbled in a heap. +At the same moment, out went the light, and the other rascals, +dropping Delia, turn'd to run, crying, "Sold--sold!" + +But behind them came now a shout from Billy, and a crashing blow +that almost severed Black Dick's arm at the shoulder: and at the +same instant I was on Master Toy's collar, and had him down in the +dust. Kneeling on his chest, with my sword point at his throat, I +had leisure to glance at Billy, who in the dark, seem'd to be +sitting on the head of his disabled victim. And then I felt a touch +on my shoulder, and a dear face peer'd into mine. + +"Is it Jack--my sweet Jack?" + +"To be sure," said I: "and if you but reach out your hand, I will +kiss it, for all that I'm busy with this rogue." + +"Nay, Jack, I'll kiss thee on the cheek--so! Dear lad, I am so +frighten'd, and yet could laugh for joy!" + +But now I caught the sound of galloping on the road above, and +shouts, and then more galloping; and down came a troop of horsemen +that were like to have ridden over us, had I not shouted lustily. + +"Who, in the fiend's name is here?" shouted the foremost, pulling in +his horse with a scramble. + +"Honest men and rebels together," I answered; "but light the lantern +that you will find handy by, and you shall know one from t'other." + +By the time 'twas found and lit, there was a dozen of Col. John +Digby's dragoons about us: and before the two villains were bound, +comes a half dozen more, leading in Captain Settle, that had taken +to his heels at the first blow and climb'd the hill, all tied as he +was about the hands, and was caught in his endeavor to clamber on +Molly's back. So he and Black Dick and Jeremy Toy were strapp'd up: +but Reuben Gedges we left on the road for a corpse. Yet he did not +die (though shot through the lung), but recovered--heaven knows how: +and I myself had the pleasure to see him hanged at Tyburn, in the +second year of his late Majesty's most blessed Restoration, for +stopping the Bishop of Salisbury's coach, in Maidenhead Thicket, and +robbing the Bishop himself, with much added contumely. + +But as we were ready to start, and I was holding Delia steady on +Molly's back, up comes Billy and bawls in my ear--- + +"There's a second horse, if wanted, that I spied tether'd under a +hedge younder"--and he pointed to the field where we had first found +Captain Settle--"in color a sad black, an' harness'd like as if he +came from a cart." + +I look'd at the Captain, who in the light of the lantern blink'd +again. "Thou bloody villain!" muttered I, for now I read the tragedy +of the wagon beside the road, and knew how Master Settle had +provided a horse for his own escape. + +But hereupon the word was given, and we started up the hill, I +walking by Delia's stirrup and listening to her talk as if we had +never been parted--yet with a tenderer joy, having by loss of it +learn'd to appraise my happiness aright. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +JOAN DOES ME HER LAST SERVICE. + + +We came, a little before midnight, to Sir Bevill's famous great +house of Stow, near Kilkhampton: that to-night was brightly lit and +full of captains and troopers feasting, as well they needed to, +after the great victory. And here, though loth to do so, I left +Delia to the care of Lady Grace Grenville, Sir Bevill's fond +beautiful wife, and of all gentlewomen I have ever seen the pink and +paragon, as well for her loyal heart as the graces of her mind: who, +before the half of our tale was out, kissed Delia on both cheeks, +and led her away. "To you too, sir, I would counsel bed," said she, +"after you have eaten and drunk, and especially given God thanks for +this day's work." + +Sir Bevill I did not see, but striding down into the hall, picked my +way among the drinking and drunken; the servants hurrying with +dishes of roast and baked and great tankards of beer; the swords and +pikes flung down under the forms and settles, and sticking out to +trip a man up; and at length found a groom who led me to a loft over +one of the barns: and here, above a mattress of hay, I slept the +first time for many months between fresh linen that smell'd of +lavender, and in thinking how pleasant 'twas, dropped sound asleep. + +Sure there is no better, sweeter couch than this of linen spread +over hay. Early in the morning, I woke with wits clear as water, and +not an ache or ounce of weariness in my bones: and after washing at +the pump below, went in search of breakfast and Sir Bevill. The one +I found, ready laid, in the hall; the other seated in his writing- +room, studying in a map; and with apology for my haste, handed him +Master Tingcomb's confession and told my story. + +When 'twas over, Sir Bevill sat pondering, and after a while said, +very frankly---- + +"As a magistrate I can give this warrant; and 'twould be a pleasure, +for well, as a boy, do I remember Deakin Killigrew. Young sir----" +he rose up, and taking a turn across the room, came and laid a hand +on my shoulder, "I have seen his daughter. Is it too late to warn +you against loving her?" + +"Why yes," I answer'd blushing: "I think it is." + +"She seems both sweet and quaint. God forbid I should say a word +against one that has so taken me! But in these times a man should +stand alone: to make a friend is to run the chance of a soft heart: +to marry a wife makes the chance sure----" + +He broke off, and went on again with a change of tone---- + +"For many reasons I would blithely issue this warrant. But how am I +to spare men to carry it out? At any moment we may be assail'd." + +"If that be your concern, sir," answer'd I, "give me the warrant. I +have a good friend here, a seafaring man, whose vessel lies at this +moment in Looe Haven, with a crew on board that will lay Master +Tingcomb by the heels in a trice. Within three days we'll have him +clapp'd in Launceston Jail, and there at the next Assize you shall +sit on the Grand Jury and hear his case, by which time, I hope, the +King's law shall run on easier wheels in Cornwall. The prisoners we +have already I leave you to deal withal: only, against my will, I +must claim some mercy for that rogue, Settle." + +To this Sir Bevill consented; and, to be short, the three knaves +were next morning pack'd off to Launceston: but in time, no evidence +being brought against them, regained their freedom, which they used +to come to the gallows, each in his own way. Their doings no longer +concern this history, and so I gladly leave them. + +To return, then, to my proper tale, 'twas not ten minutes before I +had the warrant in my pocket. And by eleven o'clock (word having +been carried to Delia, and our plans laid before Billy Pottery, who +on the spot engaged himself to help us) our horses were brought +round to the gate, and my mistress appear'd, all ready for the +journey. For tho' assured that the work needed not her presence, and +that she had best wait at Stow till Master Tingcomb was smok'd out +of his nest, she would have none of it, but was set on riding with +me to see justice done on this fellow, of whose villainy I had told +her much the night before. And glad I was of her choice, as I saw +her standing on the entrance steps, fresh as a rose, and in a fit +habit once more: for Lady Grace had lent not only her own bay horse, +but also a riding dress and hat of grey velvet to equip her: and +stood in the porch to wish us _Godspeed!_ while Sir Bevill help'd +Delia to the saddle. + +So, with Billy tramping behind us, away we rode up the combe, where +Kilkhampton tower stood against the sky; and turning to wave hands +at the top, found our host and hostess still by the gate, watching +us, with hands rais'd to shield their eyes from the sun. + +The whole petty tale of this day's ride I shall not dwell upon. +Indeed, I scarcely noted the miles as they pass'd. For all the way +we were chattering, Delia telling me how Captain Settle and his gang +had hurried her (tho' without indignity) across Dartmoor to +Ashburton, thence to Lynton in North Devon, and so along the coast +of Somerset to Bristol; how they there produced a paper, at sight of +which Sir Nathaniel Fiennes, the new Governor, kept her under lock +and key. And thus she remained four months, at the end of which time +they convey'd her on board a sloop, call'd the _Fortitude_, and bound +for the Virginias, with the result that has been told. To all of which +I listened greedily, stealing from time to time a look at her shape, +that on horseback was graceful as a willow, and into her eyes that, +under the flapping grey brim, were gay and fancy-free as ever. + +"And did you," asked I, "never at heart chide me for leaving you +so!" + +"Why no. I never took thee for a conjurer, Jack." + +"But, at least, you thought of me," I urged. + +"Oh, dear--oh, dear!" She pull'd rein and look'd at me: "I remember +now that last night I kiss'd thee. Forget it, Jack: last night, so +glad was I to be sav'd, I could have kiss'd a cobbler. Indeed, +Jack," she went on seriously, "I would that some maid had got hold +of thee, in all these months, to cure thy silly notions!" + +At Launceston, Billy Pottery took leave of us: and now went, due +south, toward Looe, with a light purse and lighter heart, +undertaking that his ship should lie off Gleys, with her crew ready +for action, within eight-and-forty hours. Delia and I rode faster +now toward the southwest: and having by this time recover'd my +temper, I was recounting my flight along this very road, when I +heard a sound that brought my heart into my mouth. + +'Twas the blast of a bugle, and came from behind the hill in front +of us. And at the same moment I understood. It must be Sir George +Chudleigh's cavalry returning, on news of their comrades' defeat, +and we were riding straight toward them, as into a trap. + +Now what could have made me forgetful of this danger I cannot +explain, unless it be that our thorough victory over the rebels had +given me the notion that the country behind us was clear of foes. +And Sir Bevill must have had a notion we were going straight to Looe +with Billy. At any rate, there was no time to be lost: for my +presence was a danger to Delia as well. I cast a glance about me. +There was no place to hide. + +"Quick!" I cried; "follow me, and ride for dear life!" + +And striking spur into Molly I turn'd sharp off the road and +gallop'd across the moor to the left, with Delia close after me. + +We had gone about two hundred yards only when I heard a shout, and +glancing over my right shoulder, saw a green banner waving on the +crest of the road, and gathered about it the vanguard of the troop-- +some score of dragoons: and these, having caught sight of us, were +pausing a moment to watch. + +The shout presently was followed by another; to which I made no +answer, but held on my way, with the nose of Delia's horse now level +with my stirrup: for I guess'd that my dress had already betrayed us. +And this was the case; for at the next glance I saw five or six +dragoons detach themselves from the main body, and gallop in a +direction at an acute angle to ours. On they came, yelling to us to +halt, and scattering over the moor to intercept us. + +Not choosing, however, to be driven eastward, I kept a straight +course and trusted to our horses' fleetness to carry us by them, out +of reach of their shot. In the pause of their first surprise we had +stolen two hundred yards more. I counted and found eight men thus in +pursuit of us: and to my joy heard the bugle blown again, and saw +the rest of the troop, now gathering fast above, move steadily along +the road without intention to follow. Doubtless the news of the +Cornish success made them thus wary of their good order. + +[Illustration: two arrows] + +Still, eight men were enough to run from; and now the nearest let +fly with his piece--more to frighten us, belike, than with any other +view, for we were far out of range. But it grew clear that if we +held on our direction they must cut us off: as you may see by these +two arrows, the long thin one standing for our own course, the +thicker and shorter for that of the dragoons. + +Only now with good hope I saw a hill rising not half a mile in front, +and somewhat to the right of our course: and thought I "if we can +gain the hollow to the left of it, and put the hill between us, they +must ride over it or round--in either case losing much time." So, +pointing this out to Delia, who rode on my left (to leave my pistol +arm free and at the same time be screen'd by me from shot of the +dragoons) I drove my spurs deep and called to Molly to make her best +pace. + +The enemy divin'd our purpose: and in a minute 'twas a desperate +race for the entrance to the hollow. But our horses were the faster, +and we the lighter riders; so that we won, with thirty yards to +spare, from the foremost:--not without damage, however; for finding +himself baulked, he sent a bullet at us which cut neatly through my +off rein, so that my bridle was henceforward useless and I could +guide Molly with knee and voice alone. Delia's bay had shied at the +sound of it, and likely enough saved my mistress' life by this; for +the bullet must have pass'd within a foot before her. + +Down the hollow we raced with three dragoons at our heels, the rest +going round the hill. But they did little good by so doing, for +after the hollow came a broad, dismal sheet of water (by name +Dozmare Pool, I have since heard) about a mile round and bank'd with +black peat. Galloping along the left shore of this, we cut them off +by near half a mile. But the three behind followed doggedly, though +dropping back with every stride. + +Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, +which we jump'd easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the +further side, I noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes +brimful of mirth. + +"Say, Jack," she cried; "is not this better than love of women?" + +"In Heaven's name," I called out, "take care!" + +But 'twas too late. The green valley here melted into a treacherous +bog, in the which her bay was already plunging over his fetlocks, +and every moment sinking deeper. + +"Throw me the rein!" I shouted, and catching the bridle close by the +bit, lean'd over and tried to drag the horse forward. By this, Molly +also was over hoofs in liquid mud. For a minute and more we heav'd +and splashed: and all the while the dragoons, seeing our fix, were +shouting and drawing nearer and nearer. But just as a brace of +bullets splashed into the slough at our feet, we stagger'd to the +harder slope, and were gaining on them again. So for twenty minutes +along the spurs of the hills, we held on, the enemy falling back and +hidden, every now and again, in the hollows--but always following: +at the end of which time, Delia call'd from just behind me-- + +"Jack--here's a to-do: the bay is going lame!" + +There was no doubt of it. I suppose he must have wrung his off hind +leg in fighting through the quag. Any way, ten minutes more would +see the end of his gallop. But at this moment we had won to the top +of a stiff ascent: and now, looking down at our feet, I had the +joyfullest surprise. + +'Twas the moor of Temple spread below like a map, the low sun +striking on the ruin'd huts to the left of us, on the roof of Joan's +cottage, on the scar of the high road, and the sides of the tall tor +above it. + +"In ten minutes," said I, "we may be safe." + +So down into the plain we hurried: and I thought for the first time +of the loyal girl waiting in the cottage yonder; of my former ride +into Temple; and (with angry shame) of the light heart with which I +left it. To what had the summoning drums and trumpets led me? Where +was the new life, then so carelessly prevented? But two days had +gone, and here was I running to Joan for help, as a child to his +mother. + +Past the peat-ricks we struggled, the sheep-cotes, the straggling +fences--all so familiar; cross'd the stream and rode into the yard. + +"Jump down," I whisper'd: "we have time, and no more." Glancing back, +I saw a couple of dragoons already coming over the heights. They had +spied us. + +Dismounting I ran to the cottage door and flung it open. A stream of +light, flung back against the sun, blazed into my eyes. + +I rubbed them and halted for a moment stock-still. + +For Joan stood in front of me, dress'd in the very clothes I had +worn on the day we first met--buff-coat, breeches, heavy boots, and +all. Her back was toward me, and at the shoulder, where the coat had +been cut away from my wound, I saw the rents all darn'd and patch'd +with pack thread. In her hand was the mirror I had given her. + +At the sound of my step on the threshold she turn'd with a short +cry--a cry the like of which I have never heard, so full was it of +choking joy. The glass dropp'd to the floor and was shatter'd. In a +second her arms were about me, and so she hung on my neck, sobbing +and laughing together. + +"'Twas true--'twas true! Dear, dear Jack--dear Jack to come to me: +hold me tighter, tighter--for my very heart is bursting!" + +And behind me a shadow fell on the doorway: and there stood Delia +regarding us. + +"Good lad--all yesterday I swore to be strong and wait for years, if +need be. Fie on womankind, to be so weak! All day I sat an' sat, an' +did never a mite o' work--never set hand to a tool: an' by sunset I +gave in an' went, cursing mysel', over the moor to Warleggan, to +Alsie Pascoe, the wise woman--an' she taught me a charm--an' bless +her, bless her, Jack, for't hath brought thee!" + +"Joan," said I, hot with shame, taking her arms gently from my neck: +"listen: I come because I am chased. Once more the dragooners are +after me--not five minutes away. You must lend me a horse, and at +once." + +"Nay," said a voice in the doorway, "the horse, if lent, is for _me!_" + +Joan turn'd, and the two women stood looking at each other;--the one +with dark wonder, the other with cold disdainfulness--and I between +them scarce lifting my eyes. Each was beautiful after her kind, as +day and night: and though their looks cross'd for a full minute like +drawn blades, neither had the mastery. Joan was the first to speak. + +"Jack, is thy mare in the yard?" + +I nodded. + +"Give me thy pistols and thy cloak." She stepp'd to the window hole +at the end of the kitchen, and look'd out. "Plenty o' time," she +said; and pointed to the ladder leading to the loft above--"Climb up +there, the both, and pull the ladder after. Is't _thou_, they want--or +_she?_" pointing to Delia. + +"Me chiefly they would catch, no doubt--being a man," I answer'd. + +"Aye--bein' a man: the world's full o' folly. Then Jack do thou look +after _her_, an' I'll look after _thee_. If the rebels leave thee in +peace, make for the Jews' Kitchen and there abide me." + +She flung my cloak about her, took my pistols and went out at the +door. As she did so, the sun sank and a dull shadow swept over the +moor. "Joan!" I cried, for now I guess'd her purpose and was +following to hinder her: but she had caught Molly's bridle and was +already astride of her. "Get back!" she call'd softly; and then, "I +make a better lad than wench, Jack,"--leap'd the mare through a gap +in the wall, and in a moment was breasting the hill and galloping +for the high road. + +In less than a minute, as it seem'd, I heard a pounding of hoofs, +and had barely time to follow Delia up the ladder and pull it after +me, when two of the dragoons rode skurrying by the house, and pass'd +on yelling. Their cries were hardly faint in the distance before +there came another three. + +"'A's a lost man, now, for sure," said one: "Be dang'd if 'a's not +took the road back to Lan'son!" + +"How 'bout the gal?" ask'd another voice. "Here's her horse i' the +yard." + +"Drat the gal! Sam, go thou an' tackle her: reckon thou'rt warriors +enow for one 'ooman." + +The two hasten'd on: and presently I heard the one they call'd "Sam" +dismounting in the yard. Now there was a window hole in the loft, +facing, not on the yard, but toward the country behind; and running +to it I saw that no more were following--the other three having, as +I suppose, early given up the chase. Softly pulling out a loose +stone or two, I widen'd this hole till I could thrust the ladder out +of it. To my joy it just reach'd the ground. I bade Delia squeeze +herself through and climb down. + +But before she was halfway down I heard a wild screech in the +kitchen below, and the voice of Sam shrieking--- + +"Help--help! Lord ha' mercy 'pon me--'tis a black cat--'tis a witch! +The gal's no gal, but a witch!" + +Laughing softly, I was descending the ladder when the fellow came +round the corner screaming--with Jan Tergagle clawing at his back +and spitting murderously. Delia had just time to slip aside, before +he ran into the ladder and brought me flying on top of him. And +there he lay and bellow'd till I tied him, and gagg'd his noise with +a big stone in his mouth and his own scarf tied round it. + +"Come!" I whisper'd: for Joan and her pursuers were out of sight. +Catching up her long skirt, Delia follow'd me, and up the tor we +panted together, nor rested till we were safe in the Jews' Kitchen. + +"What think you of this for a hiding place?" ask'd I, with a laugh. + +But Delia did not laugh. Instead, she faced me with blazing eyes, +check'd herself and answer'd, cold as ice--- + +"Sir, you have done me a many favors. How I have trusted you in +return it were best for you to remember, and for me to forget." + + * * * * * + +The dark drew on; the western star grew distinct and hung flashing +over against our hiding; and still we sat there, hour after hour, +silent, angry, waiting for Joan's return, Delia at the entrance of +the den, chin on hand, scanning the heavens and never once turning +toward me; I further inside, with my arms cross'd, raging against +myself and all the world, yet with a sick'ning dread that Joan would +never come back. + +As the time lagg'd by, this terror grew and grew. But, as I think, +about ten o'clock, I heard steps coming over the turf. I ran out. +'Twas Joan herself and leading Molly by the bridle. She walk'd as if +tir'd, and leaving the mare at the entrance, follow'd me into the +cave. Glancing round, I noted that Delia had slipp'd away. + +"Am glad she's gone," said Joan shortly: "How many rebels pass'd +this way, Jack?" + +"Five, counting one that lies gagg'd and bound, down at the +cottage." + +"That leaves four:"--she stretch'd herself on the ground with a +sigh--"four that'll never trouble thee more, lad." + +"Why? how--" + +"Listen, lad: sit down an' let me rest my head 'pon thy knee. Oh, +Jack, I did it bravely! Eight good miles an' more I took the mare-- +by the Four--hol'd Cross, an' across the moor past Tober an' +Catshole, an' over Brown Willy, an' round Roughtor to the nor'-west: +an' there lies the bravest quag--oh, a black, bottomless hole!--an' +into it I led them; an' there they lie, every horse, an' every +mother's son, till Judgment Day." + +"Dead?" + +"Aye--an' the last twain wi' a bullet apiece in their skulls. Oh, +rare! Dear heart--hold my head--so, atween thy hands. 'Put on his +cast off duds,' said Alsie, 'an' stand afore the glass, sayin' "Come, +true man!" nine-an'-ninety time.' I was mortal 'feard o' losin' +count; but afore I got to fifty, I heard thy step an'--hold me +closer, Jack." + +"But Joan, are these men dead, say you?" + +"Surely, yes. Why, lad, what be four rebels, up or down, to make +this coil over? Hast never axed after _me!"_ + +"Joan--you are not hurt?" + +In the darkness I sought her eyes, and, peering into them, drew back. + +"Joan!" + +"Hush, lad--bend down thy head, and let me whisper. I went too near +--an' one, that was over his knees, let fly wi' his musket--an' Jack, +I have but a minute or two. Hush lad, hush--there's no call! Wert +never the man could ha' tam'd me--art the weaker, in a way: forgie +the word, for I lov'd thee so, boy Jack!" + +Her arms were drawing down my face to her: her eyes dull with pain. + +"Feel, Jack--there--over my right breast. I plugg'd the wound wi' a +peat turf. Pull it out, for 'tis bleeding inwards, and hurts +cruelly--pull it out!" + +As I hesitated, she thrust her own hand in and drew it forth, +leaving the hot blood to gush. + +"An' now, Jack, tighter--hold me tighter. Kiss me--oh, what brave +times! Tighter, lad, an' call wi' me--'Church an' King!' Call, lad-- +'Church an'--'" + +The warm arms loosen'd: the head sank back upon my lap. + +I look'd up. There was a shadow across the entrance, blotting out +the star of night. 'Twas Delia, leaning there and listening. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE HEARSE. + + +The day-spring came at last, and in the sick light of it I went down +to the cottage for spade and pickaxe. In the tumult of my senses I +hardly noted that our prisoner, the dragoon, had contrived to slip +his bonds and steal off in the night. + +And then Delia, seeing me return with the sad tools on my shoulder, +spoke for the first time: + +"First, if there be a well near, fetch me two buckets of water, and +leave us for an hour." + +Her voice was weary and chill: so that I dared not thank her, but +did the errand in silence. Then, but a dozen paces from the spot +where Joan's father lay, I dug a grave and strew'd it with bracken, +and heather, and gorse petals, that in the morning air smell'd +rarely. And soon after my task was done, Delia call'd me. + +In her man's dress Joan lay, her arms cross'd, her black tresses +braided, and her face gentler than ever 'twas in life. Over her +wounded breast was a bunch of some tiny pink flower, that grew about +the tor. + +So I lifted her softly as once in this same place she had lifted me, +and bore her down the slope to the grave: and there I buried her, +while Delia knelt and pray'd, and Molly browsed, lifting now and +then her head to look. + +When all was done, we turn'd away, dry-eyed, and walked together to +the cottage. The bay horse was feeding on the moor below; and +finding him still too lame to carry Delia, I shifted the saddles, +and mending the broken rein, set her on Molly. The cottage door +stood open, but we did not enter; only look'd in, and seeing Jan +Tergagle curl'd beside the cold hearth, left him so. + +Mile after mile we pass'd in silence, Delia riding, and I pacing +beside her with the bay. At last, tortur'd past bearing, I spoke-- + +"Delia, have you nothing to say?" + +For a while she seem'd to consider: then, with her eyes fix'd on the +hills ahead, answered-- + +"Much, if I could speak: but all this has changed me somehow--'tis, +perhaps, that I have grown a woman, having been a girl--and need to +get used to it, and think." + +She spoke not angrily, as I look'd for; but with a painful slowness +that was less hopeful. + +"But," said I, "over and over you have shown that I am nought to you. +Surely--" + +"Surely I am jealous? 'Tis possible--yes, Jack, I am but a woman, +and so 'tis certain." + +"Why, to be jealous, you must love me!" + +She look'd at me straight, and answered very deliberate-- + +"Now that is what I am far from sure of." + +"But, dear Delia, when your anger has cool'd--" + +"My anger was brief: I am disappointed, rather. With her last breath, +almost, Joan said you were weaker than she: she lov'd you better +than I, and read you clearer. You _are_ weak. Jack"--she drew +in Molly, and let her hand fall on my shoulder very kindly--"we have +been comrades for many a long mile, and I hope are honest good +friends; wherefore I loathe to say a harsh or ungrateful-seeming +word. But you could not understand that brave girl, and you cannot +understand me: for as yet you do not even know yourself. The +knowledge comes slowly to a man, I think; to a woman at one rush. +But when it comes, I believe you may be strong. Now leave me to +think, for my head is all of a tangle." + +Our pace was so slow (by reason of the lame horse), that a great +part of the afternoon was spent before we came in sight of the House +of Gleys. And truly the yellow sunshine bad flung some warmth about +the naked walls and turrets, so that Delia's home-coming seem'd not +altogether cheerless. But what gave us more happiness was to spy, on +the blue water beyond, the bright canvas of the _Godsend_, and +to hear the cries and stir of Billy Pottery's mariners as they +haul'd down the sails. + +And Billy himself was on the lookout with his spyglass. For hardly +were we come to the beach when our signal--the waving of a white +kerchief--was answered by another on board; and within half an hour +a boat puts off, wherein, as she drew nearer, I counted eight +fellows. + +They were (besides Billy), Matt. Soames, the master, Gabriel +Hutchins, Ned Masters, the black man Sampson, Ben Halliday, and two +whose full names I have forgot--but one was call'd Nicholas. And, +after many warm greetings, the boat was made fast, and we climbed up +along the peninsula together, in close order, like a little army. + +All this time there was no sign or sound about the House of Gleys to +show that anyone mark'd us or noted our movements. The gate was +closed, the windows stood shutter'd, as on my former visit: even the +chimneys were smokeless. Such effect had this desolation on our +spirits, that drawing near, we fell to speaking in whispers, and +said Ned Masters-- + +"Now a man would think us come to bury somebody!" + +"He might make a worse guess," I answer'd. + +Marching up to the gate, I rang a loud peal on the bell; and to my +astonishment, before the echoes had time to die away, the grating +was push'd back, and the key turn'd in the lock. + +"Step ye in--step ye in, good folks! A sorry day,--a day of sobs an' +tears an' afflicted blowings of the nose--when the grasshopper is a +burden an' the mourners go about seeking whom they may devour the +funeral meats. Y' are welcome, gentlemen." + +'Twas the voice of my one-eyed friend, as he undid the bolts; and +now he stood in the gateway with a prodigious black sash across his +canary livery, so long that the ends of it swept the flagstones. + +"Is Master Tingcomb within?" I helped Delia to dismount, and gave +our two horses to a stable boy that stood shuffling some paces off. + +"Alas!" the old man heav'd a deep sigh, and with that began to +hobble across the yard. We troop'd after, wondering. At the house +door he turn'd--- + +"Sirs, there is cold roasted capons, an' a ham, an' radishes in +choice profusion for such as be not troubled wi' the wind: an' +cordial wines--alack the day!" + +He squeez'd a frosty tear from his one eye, and led us to a large +bare hall, hung round with portraits; where was a table spread with +a plenty of victuals, and horn-handled knives and forks laid beside +plates of pewter; and at the table a man in black, eating. He had +straight hair and a sallow face; and look'd up as we enter'd, but, +groaning, in a moment fell to again. + +"Eat, sirs," the old servitor exhorted us: "alas! that man may take +nothing out o' the world!" + +I know not who of us was most taken aback. But noting Delia's sad +wondering face, as her eyes wander'd round the neglected room and +rested on the tatter'd portraits, I lost patience. + +"Our business is with Master Hannibal Tingcomb," said I sharply. + +The straight-hair'd man look'd up again, his mouth full of ham. + +"Hush!"--he held his fork up, and shook his head sorrowfully: and I +wonder'd where I had Been him before. "Hast thou an angel's wings?" +he ask'd. + +"Why, no, sir; but the devil's own boots--as you shall find if I be +not answer'd." + +"Young man--young man," broke in the one-eyed butler: "our minister +is a good minister, an' speaks roundabout as such: but the short is, +that my master is dead, an' in his coffin." + +"The mortal part," corrected the minister, cutting another slice. + +"Aye, the immortal is a-trippin' it i' the New Jeroosalem: but the +mortal was very lamentably took wi' a fit, three days back--the same +day, young man, as thou earnest wi' thy bloody threats." + +"A fit?" + +"Aye, sir, an' verily--such a fit as thou thysel' witness'd. 'Twas +the third attack--an' he cried, 'Oh!' he did, an' 'Ah!'--just like +that. 'Oh!' an' then 'Ah!' Such were his last dyin' speech. 'Dear +Master,' says I, 'there's no call to die so hard:' but might so well +ha' whistled, for he was dead as nails. A beautiful corpse, sirs, +dang my buttons!" + +"Show him to us." + +"Willingly, young man." He led the way to the very room where Master +Tingcomb and I had held our interview. As before, six candles were +burning there: but the table was push'd into a corner, and now their +light fell on a long black coffin, resting on trestles in the centre +of the room. The coffin was clos'd, and studded with silver nails; +on the lid was a silver plate bearing these words written-- +"_Hannibal Tingcomb_, MDCXLIIL," with a text of Scripture below. + +"Why have you nail'd him down?" I asked. + +"Now where be thy bowels, young man, to talk so unfeelin'? An' where +be thy experience, not to know the ways o' thy blessed dead in +summer time?" + +"When do you bury him?" + +"To-morrow forenoon. The spot is two mile from here." He blinked at +me, and hesitated for a minute. "Is it your purpose, sirs, to +attend?" + +"Be sure of that," I said grimly. "So have beds ready to-night for +all our company." + +"All thy--! Dear sir, consider: where are beds to be found? Sure, +thy mariners can pass the night aboard their own ship?" + +"So then," thought I, "you have been on the lookout;" but Delia +replied for me--- + +"I am Delia Killigrew, and mistress of this house. You will prepare +the beds as you are told." Whereupon what does that decrepit old +sinner but drop upon his knees? + +"Mistress Delia! O goodly feast for this one poor eye! Oh, that +Master Tingcomb had seen this day!" + +I declare the tears were running down his nose; but Delia march'd +out, cutting short his hypocrisy. + +In the passage she whisper'd-- + +"Villainy, Jack!" + +"Hush!" I answered, "and listen: _Master Tingcomb is no more in +that coffin than I._" + +"Then where is he?" + +"That is just what we are to discover." As I said this a light broke +on me. "By the Lord," I cried, "'tis the very same!" + +Delia open'd her eyes wide. + +"Wait," I said: "I begin to touch ground." + +We returned to the great hall. The straight-hair'd man was still +eating, and opposite sat Billy, that had not budg'd, but now +beckoning to me, very mysterious, whisper'd in a voice that made the +plates rattle-- + +"That's--a damned--rogue!" + +'Twas discomposing, but the truth. In fact, I had just solv'd a +puzzle. This holy-speaking minister was no other than the groom I +had seen at Bodmin Fair holding Master Tingcomb's horses. + +By this, the sun was down, and Delia soon made an excuse to withdraw +to her own room. Nor was it long before the rest followed her +example. I found our chambers prepared, near together, in a wing of +the house at some distance from the hall. Delia's was next to mine, +as I made sure by knocking at her door: and on the other side of me +slept Billy with two of his crew. My own bed was in a great room +sparely furnish'd; and the linen indifferent white. There was a +plenty of clean straw, tho', on the floor, had I intended to sleep-- +which I did not. + +Instead, having blown out my light, I sat on the bed's edge, +listening to the big clock over the hall as it chim'd the quarters, +and waiting till the fellows below should be at their ease. That +Master Tingcomb rested under the coffin lid, I did not believe, in +spite of the terrifying fit that I could vouch for. But this, if +driven to it, we could discover at the grave. The main business was +to catch him; and to this end I meant to patrol the buildings, and +especially watch the entrance, on the likely chance of his creeping +back to the house (if not already inside), to confer with his +fellow-rascals. + +As eleven o'clock sounded, therefore, I tapp'd on Billy's wall; and +finding that Matt. Soames was keeping watch (as we had agreed upon), +slipp'd off my boots. Our rooms were on the first floor, over a +straw yard; and the distance to the ground an easy drop for a man. +But wishing to be silent as possible, I knotted two blankets +together, and strapping the end round the window mullion, swung +myself down by one hand, holding my boots in the other. + +I dropp'd very lightly, and look'd about. There was a faint moon up +and glimmering on the straw; but under the house was deep shadow, +and along this I crept. The straw yard led into the court before the +stables, and so into the main court. All this way I heard no sound, +nor spied so much as a speck of light in any window. The house door +was clos'd, and the bar fastened on the great gate across the yard. +I turn'd the corner to explore the third side of the house. + +Here was a group of outbuildings jutting out, and between them and +the high outer wall a narrow alley. 'Twas with difficulty I groped +my way here, for the passage was dark as pitch, and rendered the +straiter by a line of ragged laurels planted under the house; so +that at every other step I would stumble, and run my head into a +bush. + +I had done this for the eighth time, and was cursing under my breath, +when on a sudden I heard a stealthy footfall coming down the alley +behind me. + +"Master Tingcomb, for a crown!" thought I, and crouch'd to one side +under a bush. The footsteps drew nearer. A dark form parted the +laurels: another moment, and I had it by the throat. + +"Uugh--ugh--grr! For the Lord's sake, sir,--" + +I loos'd my hold: 'twas Matt. Soames. "Your pardon," whisper'd I; +"but why have you left your post?" + +"Black Sampson is watchin', so I took the freedom--ugh! my poor +windpipe!--to--" + +He broke off to catch me by the sleeve and pull me down behind the +bush. About twelve paces ahead I heard a door softly open'd and saw +a shaft of light flung across the path between the glist'ning +laurels. As the ray touch'd the outer wall, I mark'd a small postern +gate there, standing open. + +Cowering lower, we waited while a man might count fifty. Then came +footsteps crunching the gravel, and a couple of men cross'd the path, +bearing a large chest between them. In the light I saw the handle of +a spade sticking out from it: and by his gait I knew the second man +to be my one-ey'd friend. + +"Woe's my old bones!" he was muttering: "here's a fardel for a man +o' my years!" + +"Hold thy breath for the next load!" growl'd the other voice, which +as surely was the good minister's. + +They pass'd out of the small gate, and by the sounds that follow'd, +we guess'd they were hoisting their burden into a cart. Presently +they re-cross'd the path, and entered the house, shutting the door +after them. + +"Now for it!" said I in Matt's ear. Gliding forward, I peep'd out at +the postern gate; but drew back like a shot. + +I had almost run my head into a great black hearse, that stood there +with the door open, back'd against the gate, the heavy plumes +nodding above it in the night wind. + +Who held the horses I had not time to see: but whispering to Matt, +to give me a leg up, clamber'd inside. "Quick!" I pull'd him after, +and crept forward. I wonder'd the man did not hear us: but by good +luck the horses were restive, and by his maudlin talk to them I knew +he was three parts drunk--on the funeral wines, doubtless. + +I crept along, and found the tool chest stow'd against the further +end: so, pulling it gently out, we got behind it. Tho' Matt was the +littlest man of my acquaintance, 'twas the work of the world to stow +ourselves in such compass as to be hidden. By coiling up our limbs +we managed it; but only just before I caught the glimmer of a light +and heard the pair of rascals returning. + +They came very slow, grumbling all the way; and of course, I knew +they carried the coffin. + +"All right, Sim?" ask'd the minister. + +"Aye," piped a squeaky voice by the horses heads ('twas the +shuffling stable boy), "aye, but look sharp! Lord, what sounds I've +heerd! The devil's i' the hearse, for sure!" + +"Now, Simmy," the one-ey'd gaffer expostulated, "thou dostn' think +the smoky King is a-took in, same as they poor folks upstairs? Tee- +hee! Lord, what a trick!--to come for Master Tingcomb, an' find--aw +dear!--aw, bless my old ribs, what a thing is humor!" + +"Shut up!" grunted the minister. The end of the coffin was tilted up +into the hearse. "Push, old varmint!" + +"Aye-push, push! Where be my young, active sinews? What a shrivell'd +garment is all my comeliness! 'The devil inside,' says Simmy--haw, +haw!" + +"Burn the thing! 'twon't go in for the tool box. Push, thou cackling +old worms!" + +"Now so I be, but my natural strength is abated. 'Yo-heave ho!' like +the salted seafardingers upstairs. Push, push!" + +"Oh, my inwards!" groans poor Matt, under his breath, into whom the +chest was squeezing sorely. + +"Right at last!" says the minister. "Now, Simmy, nay lad, hand the +reins an' jump up. There's room, an' you'll be wanted." + +The door was clapp'd-to, the three rogues climb'd upon the seat in +front: and we started. + +I hope I may never be call'd to pass such another half hour as that +which follow'd. As soon as the wheels left turf for the hard road, +'twas jolt, jolt all the way; and this lying mainly down hill, the +chest and coffin came grinding into our ribs, and pressing till we +could scarce breathe. And I dared not climb out over them, for fear +the fellows should hear us; their chuckling voices coming quite +plain to us from the other side of the panel. I held out, and +comforted Matt, as well as I could, feeling sure we should find +Master Tingcomb at our journey's end. Soon we climb'd a hill, which +eas'd us a little; but shortly after were bumping down again, and +suffering worse than ever. + +"Save us," moan'd Matt, "where will this end?" + +The words were scarce out, when we turn'd sharp to the right, with +a jolt that shook our teeth together, roll'd for a little while over +smooth grass, and drew up. + +I heard the fellows climbing down, and got my pistols out. + +"Simmy," growl'd the minister, "where's the lantern?" + +There was a minute or so of silence, and then the snapping of flint +and steel, and the sound of puffing. + +"Lit, Simmy?" + +"Aye, here 'tis." + +"Fetch it along then." + +The handle of the door was turn'd, and a light flash'd into the +hearse. + +"Here, hold the lantern steady! Come hither, old Squeaks, and help +wi' the end." + +"Surely I will. Well was I call'd Young Look-alive when a gay, +fleeting boy. Simmy, my son, thou'rt sadly drunken. O youth, youth! +Thou winebibber, hold the light steady, or I'll tell thy mammy!" + +"Oh, sir, I do mortally dread the devil an' all his works!" + +"Now, if ever! The devil,' says he--an' Master Tingcomb still livin', +an' in his own house awaitin' us!" + +Be sure, his words were as good as a slap in the face to me. For I +had counted the hearse to lead me straight to Master Tingcomb +himself. "In his own house," too! A fright seiz'd me for Delia. But +first I must deal with these scoundrels, who already were dragging +out the coffin. + +"Steady there!" calls the minister. The coffin was more than halfway +outside. I levell'd my pistol over the edge of the tool chest, and +fetch'd a yell fit to wake a ghost--at the same time letting fly +straight for the minister. + +In the flash of the discharge, I saw him, half-turn'd, his eyes +starting, and mouth agape. He clapp'd his hand to his shoulder. On +top of his wild shriek, broke out a chorus of screams and oaths, in +the middle of which the coffin tilted up and went over with a crash. +"Satan--Satan!" bawled Simmy, and, dropping the lantern, took to his +heels for dear life. At the same moment the horses took fright; and +before I could scramble out, we were tearing madly away over the +turf and into the darkness. I had made a sad mess of it. + +It must have been a full minute before the hedge turn'd them, and +gave me time to drop out at the back and run to their heads. Matt. +Soames was after me, quick as thought, and very soon we mastered +them, and gathering up the reins from between their legs, led them +back. As luck would have it, the lantern had not been quench'd by +the fall, but lay flaring, and so guided us. Also a curious bright +radiance seem'd growing on the sky, for which I could not account. +The three knaves were nowhere to be seen, but I heard their +footsteps scampering in the distance, and Simmy still yelling +"Satan!" I knew my bullet had hit the minister; but he had got away, +and I never set eyes on any of the three again. + +Leaving Matt to mind the horses, I caught up the lantern, and +look'd about me. As well as could be seen, we were in a narrow +meadow between two hills, whereof the black slopes rose high above +us. Some paces to the right, my ear caught the noise of a stream +running. + +I turn'd the lantern on the coffin, which lay face downward, and +with a gasp took in the game those precious rogues had been playing. +For, with the fall of it, the boards (being but thin) were burst +clean asunder; and on both sides had tumbled out silver cups, silver +saltcellars, silver plates and dishes, that in the lantern's rays +sparkled prettily on the turf. The coffin, in short, was stuff'd +with Delia's silverware. + +I had pick'd up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the +inscription, when Matt. Soames call'd to me, and pointed over the +hill in front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing. + +"Sure," said he, "'tis a fire out yonder!" + +"God help us, Matt.--'tis the House of Gleys!" + +It took but two minutes to toss the silver back into the hearse. I +clapp'd-to the door, and snatching the reins, sprang upon the +driver's seat. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE. + + +We had some ado to find the gate: but no sooner were through, and +upon the high road, than I lash'd the horses up the hill at a gallop. +To guide us between the dark hedges we had only our lantern and the +glare ahead. The dishes and cups clash'd and rattled as the hearse +bump'd in the ruts, swaying wildly: a dozen times Matt, was near +being pitch'd clean out of his seat. With my legs planted firm, I +flogg'd away like a madman; and like mad creatures the horses tore +upward. + +On the summit a glance show'd us all--the wild crimson'd sky--the +sea running with lines of fire--and against it the inky headland +whereon the House of Gleys flar'd like a beacon. Already from one +wing--_our_ wing--a leaping column of flame whirl'd up through +the roof, and was swept seaward in smoke and sparks. I mark'd the +coast line, the cliff tracks, the masts and hull of the _Godsend_ +standing out, clear as day; and nearer, the yellow light flickering +over the fields of young corn. We saw all this, and then were plunging +down hill, with the blaze full ahead of us. The heavy reek of it was +flung in our nostrils as we gallop'd. + +At the bottom we caught up a group of men running. 'Twas a boatload +come from the ship to help. As our horses swept past them, one or +two came to a terrified halt; but presently were running hard again +after us. + +The great gate stood open. I drove straight into the bright-lit yard, +shouting "Delia!--where is Delia?" + +"Here!" call'd a voice; and from a group that stood under the glare +of the window came my dear mistress running. + +"All safe, Jack! But what--" She drew back from our strange equipage. + +"All in good time. First tell me--how came the fire?" + +"Why, foul work, as it seems. All I know is I was sleeping, and +awoke to hear the black seaman hammering on my door. Jumping up, I +found the room full of smoke, and escap'd. The rooms beneath, they +say, were stuff'd with straw, and the yard outside heap'd also with +straw, and blazing. Ben Halliday found two oil jars lying there--" + +"Are the horses out?" + +"Oh, Jack--I do not know! Shame on me to forget them!" + +I ran toward the stable. Already the roof was ablaze, and the straw +yard, beyond, a very furnace. Rushing in, I found the two horses +cowering in their stalls, bath'd in sweat, and squealing. But 'twas +all fright. So I fetch'd Molly's saddle, and spoke to her, and set +it across her back: and the sweet thing was quiet in a moment, +turning her head to rub my sleeve gently with her muzzle: and +followed me out like a lamb. The bay gave more trouble; but I +sooth'd him in the same manner, and patting his neck, led him, too, +into safety. + +By this, all hope to save the house was over: for the well in the +court yielded but twenty buckets before it ran dry, and after that +no water was to be had. Of the wing where the fire burst out only +the walls stood, and a few oaken rafters, that one by one came +tumbling and crashing. The flames had spread along the roof, and +were now licking the ceiling of the hall and spouting around the +clock tower. In the roar and hubbub, Billy's men work'd like demons, +dragging out chairs, chests, and furniture of all kinds, which they +strew'd in the yard, returning with shouts for more. One was tearing +down the portraits in the hall: another was pulling out the great +dresser from the kitchen: a third had found a pile of tapestry and +came staggering forth under the load of it. + +I had fasten'd the horses by the gate, and was ready to join in the +work, when a shout was rais'd--- + +"Billy!--Where's Billy Pottery? Has any seen the skipper?" + +"Sure," I call'd, "you don't say he was never alarm'd!" + +"Black Sampson was in his room--where's Black Sampson?" + +"Here I be!" cried a voice. "To be sure I woke the skipper before +any o' ye." + +"Then where's he hid? Did any see him come out?" + +"Now, that we have not!" answer'd one or two. + +I stood by the house door shouting these questions to the men inside, +when a hand was laid on my arm, and there in the shadow waited Billy +himself, with a mighty curious twinkle in his eye. He put a finger +up and signed that I should follow. + +We pass'd round the outbuildings where, three hours before, Matt. +Soames and I had hid together. I was minded to stop and pull on my +boots, that were hid here: but (and this was afterward the saving of +me) on second thoughts let them lie, and follow'd Billy, who now led +me out by the postern gate. + +Without speech we stepp'd across the turf, he a pace or two ahead. +A night breeze was blowing here, delicious after the heat of the fire. +We were walking quickly toward the east side of the headland, and +soon the blaze behind flung our shadows right to the cliff's edge, +for which Billy made straight, as if to fling himself over. + +But when, at the very verge, he pull'd up, I became enlighten'd. At +our feet was an iron bar driven into the soil, and to it a stout +rope knotted, that ran over a block and disappeared down the cliff. +I knelt and, pulling at it softly, look'd up. It came easy in the +hand. + +Billy, with the glare in his face, nodded: and bending to my ear, +for once achiev'd a whisper. + +"Saw one stealing hither--an' follow'd. A man wi' a limp foot--went +over the side like a cat." + +I must have appeared to doubt this good fortune, for he added--- + +"'Be a truth speakin' man i' the main, Jack--'lay over 'pon my belly, +and spied a ledge--fifty feet down or less--'reckon there be a way +thence to the foot. Dear, now! what a rampin', tearin' sweat is +this?" + +For, fast as I could tug, I was hauling up the rope. Near sixty feet +came up before I reach'd the end--a thick twisted knot. I rove a +long noose; pull'd it over my head and shoulders, and made Billy +understand he was to lower me. + +"Sit i' the noose, lad, an' hold round the knot. For sign to hoist +again, tug the rope hard. I can hold." + +He paid it out carefully while I stepp'd to the edge. With the noose +about my loins I thrust myself gently over, and in a trice hung +swaying. + +On three sides the sky compass'd me--wild and red, save where to +eastward the dawn was paling: on the fourth the dark rocky face +seem'd gliding upward as Billy lower'd. Far below I heard the wash +of the sea, and could just spy the white spume of it glimmering. It +stole some of the heart out of me, and I took my eyes off it. + +Some feet below the top, the cliff fetch'd a slant inward, so that +I dangled a full three feet out from the face. As a boy I had +adventured something of this sort on the north sides of Gable and +the Pillar, and once (after a nest of eaglets) on the Mickledore +cliffs: but then 'twas daylight. Now, tho' I saw the ledge under me, +about a third of the way down, it look'd, in the darkness, to be so +extremely narrow, that 'tis probable I should have call'd out to +Billy to draw me up but for the certainty that he would never hear: +so instead I held very tight and wish'd it over. + +Down I sway'd (Billy letting out the rope very steady), and at last +swung myself inward to the ledge, gain'd a footing, and took a +glance round before slipping off the rope. + +I stood on a shelf of sandy rock that wound round the cliff some way +to my left, and then, as I thought, broke sharply away. 'Twas mainly +about a yard in width, but in places no more than two feet. In the +growing light I noted the face of the headland ribb'd with several +of these ledges, of varying length, but all hollow'd away underneath +(as I suppose by the sea in former ages), so that the cliff's summit +overhung the base by a great way: and peering over I saw the waves +creeping right beneath me. + +Now all this while I had not let Master Tingcomb out of my mind. So +I slipp'd off the rope and left it to dangle, while I crept forward +to explore, keeping well against the rock and planting my feet with +great caution. + +I believe I was twenty minutes taking as many steps, when at the +point where the ledge broke off I saw the ends of an iron ladder +sticking up, and close beside it a great hole in the rock, which +till now the curve of the cliff had hid. The ladder no doubt stood +on a second shelf below. + +I was pausing to consider this, when a bright ray stream'd across +the sea toward me, and the red rim of the sun rose out of the waters, +outfacing the glow on the headland, and rending the film of smoke +that hung like a curtain about the horizon. 'Twas as if by alchemy +that the red ripples melted to gold; and I stood watching with a +child's delight. + +I heard the sound of a footstep: and fac'd round. + +Before me, not six paces off, stood Hannibal Tingcomb. + +He was issuing from the hole with a sack on his shoulder, and +sneaking to descend the steps, when he threw a glance behind--and +saw me! + +Neither spoke. With a face grey as ashes he turn'd very slowly, +until in the unnatural light we look'd straight into each other's +eyes. His never blink'd, but stared--stared horribly, while the +veins swell'd black on his forehead and his lips work'd, attempting +speech. No words came--only a long drawn sob, deep down in his +throat. + +And then, letting slip the sack, he flung his arms up, ran a pace or +two toward me, and tumbled on his face in a fit. His left shoulder +hung over the verge; his legs slipp'd. In a trice he was hanging by +his arms, his old distorted face turn'd up, and a froth about his +lips. I made a step to save him: and then jump'd back, flattening +myself against the rock. + +The ledge was breaking. + +I saw a seam gape at my feet. I saw it widen and spread to right and +left. I heard a ripping, rending noise--a rush of stones and earth: +and, clawing the air, with a wild screech, Master Tingcomb pitch'd +backward, head over heels, into space. + +Then follow'd silence: then a horrible splash as he struck the water, +far below: then again a slipping and trickling, as more of the ledge +broke away--at first a pebble or two sliding--a dribble of earth-- +next, a crash and a cloud of dust. A last stone ran loose and +dropp'd. Then fell a silence so deep I could catch the roar of the +flames on the hill behind. + +Standing there, my arms thrown back and fingers spread against the +rock, I saw a wave run out, widen, and lose itself on the face of +the sea. Under my feet but eight inches of the cornice remain'd. My +toes stuck forward over the gulf. + +[Illustration: The ledge was breaking.] + +A score of startled gulls with their cries call'd me to myself. I +open'd my eyes, that had shut in sheer giddiness. Close on my left the +ledge was broke back to the very base, cutting me off by twelve +feet from that part where the ladder still rested. No man could jump +it, standing. To the right there was no gap: but in one place only +was the footing over ten inches wide, and at the end my rope hung +over the sea, a good yard away from the edge. + +I shut my eyes and shouted. + +There was no answer. In the dead stillness I could hear the rafters +falling in the House of Gleys, and the shouts of the men at work. +The _Godsend_ lay around the point, out of sight. And Billy, +deaf as a stone, sat no doubt by his rope, placidly waiting my +signal. + +I scream'd again and again. The rock flung my voice seaward. Across +the summit vaulted above, there drifted a puff of brown smoke. No +one heard. + +A while of weakness followed. My brain reel'd: my fingers dug into +the rock behind till they bled. I bent forward--forward over the +heaving mist through which the sea crawl'd like a snake. It beckon'd +me down, that crawling water.... + +I stiffened my knees and the faintness pass'd. I must not look down +again. It flashed on me that Delia had call'd me weak: and I +hardened my heart to fight it out. I would face round to the cliff +and work toward the rope. + +'Twas a hateful moment while I turned: for to do so I must let go +with one hand. And the rock thrust me outward. But at last I faced +the cliff; waited a moment while my knees shook; and moving a foot +cautiously to the left, began to work my way along, an inch at a +time. + +Looking down to guide my feet, I saw the waves twinkling beneath my +heels. My palms press'd the rock. At every three inches I was fain +to rest my forehead against it and gasp. Minute after minute went +by--endless, intolerable, and still the rope seem'd as far away as +ever. A cold sweat ran off me: a nausea possessed me. Once, where +the ledge was widest, I sank on one knee, and hung for a while +incapable of movement. But a black horror drove me on: and after the +first dizzy stupor my wits were mercifully wide awake. Sure, 'twas +God's miracle preserv'd them to me, who looking at the sea and cliff +and pitiless sun, had almost denied Him and his miracles together. + +All the way I kept shouting: and so, for half an hour, inch by inch, +shuffled forward, until I stood under the rope. Then I had to turn +again. + +The rock, tho' still overarching, here press'd out less than before: +so that, working round on the ball of my foot, I managed pretty +easily. But how to get the rope? As I said, it hung a good yard +beyond the ledge, the noose dangling some two feet below it. With my +finger tips against the cliff, I lean'd out and clutch'd at it. I +miss'd it by a foot. "Shall I jump?" thought I, "or bide here till +help comes?" + +'Twas a giddy, awful leap. But the black horror was at my heels now. +In a minute more 'twould have me; and then my fall was certain. I +call'd up Delia's face as she had taunted me. I bent my knees, and, +leaving my hold of the rock, sprang forward--out, over the sea. + +I saw it twinkle, fathoms below. My right hand touch'd--grasp'd the +rope: then my left, as I swung far out upon it. I slipp'd an inch-- +three inches--then held, swaying wildly. My foot was in the noose. +I heard a shout above: and, as I dropp'd to a sitting posture, the +rope began to rise. + +"Quick! Oh, Billy, pull quick!" + +He could not hear; yet tugg'd like a Trojan. + +"Now, here's a time to keep a man sittin'!" he shouted, as he caught +my hand, and pull'd me full length on the turf. "Why, lad--hast seen +a ghost?" + +There was no answer. The black horror had overtaken me at last. + + * * * * * + +They carried me to a shed in the great court of Gleys, and set me on +straw: and there, till far into the afternoon, I lay betwixt +swooning and trembling, while Delia bath'd my head in water from the +sea, for no other was to be had. And about four in the afternoon the +horror left me, so that I sat up and told my story pretty steadily. + +"What of the house?" I ask'd, when the tale was done, and a company +sent to search the east cliff from the beach. + +"All perish'd!" said Delia, and then smiling, "I am houseless as +ever, Jack." + +"And have the same good friends." + +"That's true. But listen--for while you have lain here, Billy and I +have put our heads together. He is bound for Brest, he says, and has +agreed to take me and such poor chattels as are saved, to Brittany, +where I know my mother's kin will have a welcome for me, until these +troubles be pass'd. Already the half of my goods is aboard the +_Godsend_, and a letter writ to Sir Bevill, begging him to +appoint an honest man as my steward. What think you of the plan?" + +"It seems a good plan," I answer'd slowly: "the England that now is, +is no place for a woman. When do you sail?" + +"As soon as you are recovered, Jack." + +"Then that's now." I got on my feet, and drew on my boots (that Matt. +Soames had found in the laurel bushes and brought). My knees +trembled a bit, but nothing to matter. + +"Art looking downcast, Jack." + +Said I: "How else should I look, that am to lose thee in an hour or +more?" + +She made no reply to this, but turned away to give an order to the +sailors. + +The last of Delia's furniture was hardly aboard, when we heard great +shouts of joy, and saw the men returning that had gone to search the +cliff. They bore between them three large oak coffers: which being +broke, we came on an immense deal of old plate and jewels, besides +over L300 in coined money. There were two more left behind, they +said, besides several small bags of gold. The path up the cliff was +hard to climb, and would have been impossible, but for the iron +ladder they found ready fix'd for Master Tingcomb's descent. In the +hole (that could not be seen from the beach, the shelf hiding it) +was tackle for lowering the chest: and below a boat moor'd, and now +left high and dry by the tide. Doubtless, the arch-rascal had waited +for his comrades to return, whom Matt. Soames and I had scar'd out +of all stomach to do so. His body was nowhere found. + +The sea had wash'd it off: but the sack they recover'd, and found to +hold the choicest of Delia's heirlooms. Within an hour the remaining +coffers and the money bags were safe in the vessel's hold. + + * * * * * + +The sun was setting, as Delia and I stood on the beach, beside the +boat that was to take her from me. Aboard the _Godsend_ I could +hear the anchor lifting, and the men singing, as, holding Molly's +bridle, I held out my hand to the dear maid who with me had shar'd +so many a peril. + +"Is there any more to come?" she ask'd. + +"No," said I, and God knows my heart was heavy: "nothing to come but +'Farewell!'" + +She laid her small hand in my big palm, and glancing up, said very +pretty and demur-- + +"_And shall I leave my best? Wilt not come, too, dear Jack?_" + +"Delia!" I stammer'd. "What is this? I thought you lov'd me not." + +"And so did I, Jack: and thinking so, I found I loved thee better +than ever. Fie on thee, now! May not a maid change her mind without +being forced to such unseemly, brazen words?" And she heav'd a mock +sigh. + +But as I stood and held that little hand, I seem'd across the very +mist of happiness to read a sentence written, and spoke it, perforce +and slow, as with another man's mouth-- + +"Delia, you only have I lov'd, and will love! Blithe would I be to +live with you, and to serve you would blithely die. In sorrow, then, +call for me, or in trust abide me. But go with you now--I may not." + +She lifted her eyes, and looking full into mine, repeated slowly the +verse we had read at our first meeting-- + + "'In a wife's lap, as in a grave, + Man's airy notions mix with earth--' + +--thou hast found it, sweetheart--thou has found the Splendid Spur!" + +She broke off, and clapp'd her hands together very merrily; and then, +as a tear started-- + +"But thou'lt come for me, ere long, Jack? Else I am sure to blame +some other woman. Stay--" + +She drew off her ring, and slipp'd it on my little finger. + +"There's my token! Now give me one to weep and be glad over." + +Having no trinkets, I gave my glove: and she kiss'd it twice, and +put it in her bosom. + +"I have no need of this ring," said I: "for look!" and I drew forth +the lock I had cut from her dear head, that morning among the alders +by Kennet side, and worn ever since over my heart. + +"Wilt marry no man till I come?" + +"Now, that's too hard a promise," said she, laughing, and shaking +her curls. + +"Too hard!" + +"Why, of course. Listen, sweetheart--a true woman will not change +her mind: but, oh! she dearly loves to be able to! So, bating this, +here's my hand upon it--now, fie, Jack! and before all these +mariners!--well, then if thou _must_--" + +* * * * * + +I watch'd her standing in the stern and waving, till she was under +the _Godsend's_ side: then turn'd, and mounting Molly, rode inland +to the wars. + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Splendid Spur, by Arthur T. 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